Brexit Poem

The consequence clear, I’ve called and I’ve checked it,

The people have gone out their way and they’ve wrecked it!

And no one is quite sure just how far to test it –

The English went out and the voted for Brexit.

Now Sterling has fallen, straight down to the floor,

It may yet fall further, it hasn’t yet landed;

It fell, and it dropped, and it’s falling some more.

It’s unprecedented, no one understands it.

In a final retread

Some have tried to fix it

But they’ve shit the bed!

They’ve gone and they’ve bricked it.

So, the old all went out, and they voted for Brexit.

Now Scotland wants free – a sexy ass Sexit.

Is Czexit or even Hungrexit to follow?

Drink up, for now there will be no tomorrow!


The Most Perfect Response to Perfect Responses

We have seen the most defining moments upon defining moments that anygwneration had seen since Adolf Hitler took power, but this is something else entirely!

in a bizarre flood of everyone speaking truthfully and correctly – with appropriate wit, humour, and charm –  the syntax Perfect, the medium and message in beautiful alignment… The most perfect responses ever given to anything!

Watch This Five-Year Old Destroy Racism!

Watch This World Leader’s Spark a Revolution!

Watch This Guy’s Perfect Response to Perfect Responses!

It’s all such bollocks.

Five-year olds may say some very clever things, beyond their experience, and towards some deeper truth. This, I own, is incredible and worth our universal commendation. But to see a five-year old destroy an entrenched system of privilege, which for years plagued academia, science, culture, day-to-day conversation, comedy, and art? Give me a break.

A five-year old said something you agree with, no need to get on some very high horse about how children are somehow omniscient creatures now. Are they omniscient when they say that the moon is made of cheese and it’s only rainy in the puddles?

Or if a world leader says something you think is laudable. They stand for something and they make their case. In driving. Pounding hard. Strongly worded. Deep seated. No-hold’s-barring. High-flying. Speeches?

Oh, so just like they have been trying to do for years but in this one instance they have managed to strike a chord you can agree sound a like a happy G-major! Well done. Have you considered their actions? Those actions, which are often anathema to your core beliefs about the Right and Wrong of this world. These politicians who will talk shit about something only so far as I think is not politically relevant to their particular sphere but then come back hypocritically begging the second it is of any use to them.

Behind closed doors, the strings they’ve got to manipulate. You better not pull that thread. They are dangerous people.

See, the internet has somehow made us all immune to actually reading stuff and thinking about what it may actually mean. Sometimes we take things too greatly at face value and sometimes we just discount it because it doesn’t fit with our feelings for it to be false. You know what? I’m kind of tired of clickbait titled articles and misnomer headlines leading us down rabbit holes which drive up our hopes and further degrade our expectations of anything reliable coming from anyone.

Authenticity is a crapshoot that won’t get us nearly enough likes of shares to make it worth our while so we are all left screaming into some obsolescent void which it turns out is already filled.

And you know what it is filled with? Hundreds of articles and videos which are titled with people saying their view is right and justified by something, but who must deep down know they are peddling nonsense for Ad hungry clicks. So, if you see something peddling perfection, look to see who is taking your wallet. What’s the source and has it been reliable to you before.

My always solution to every societal problem I’ve ever come across is simple. It goes thus: people need to be better.

Stop clicking around and do it!

+1 for Humanity

The numbers on the left hand side of his vision ticked up, repeatedly. Each number was a sign of some Good Deed – from smaller things like a door being held on a subway to the greater like saving a life with a transplant or by somebody putting themselves in danger to save another. On the right hand side was another number, ticking up slower but more grimly – the Dick Moves. These troubled Stanley, but it was an unavoidable curse to know bad things were happening. Some kind of sense was made by the system, where it balanced the knowledge of good things with the knowledge of the bad. It was heartening to see that on most days the good won, but he had no part in the numbers.

It was a day in October when he realised the affliction. It started with some eye trouble, a blurriness in his peripheral vision. Some black flakes glanced before his eyes. He chased them from left to right and he started to notice a pattern. He noticed the flakes would multiply and become like tally marks, before they faded and were replaced by traffic lights. Green on the left, red on the right, flickers of amber in the centre. Claire, his optician, informed him there was nothing wrong on the surface with his eyes. There was also no fault in his optic nerve, and nothing could be detected by retinal photography. His eyesight was no worse than ever. Stanley could not believe this. The evidence was before his eyes, why was it not within them? Claire recommended a psychologist but Stanley had no interest in knowing what was wrong with his mind. Some things are best kept private.

His eyes cleared after a week. He figured it was just a spell from his job as an office drone. Screen blindness. Old screens. Flickering halogen lights. But then he saw them, he heard them, the ticks and crosses of human endeavour. The numbers.

It was on the 24th of October. He had just gotten off a metro and saw a couple run down the escalators. They were too far to make it. It was a foregone conclusion. Poor suckers. But somebody held the door open for a second and they made it in.

+1 for humanity blazed across his vision.

This new understanding brought a change in outlook – life became about maximising good. Stanley opened every vein, he donated money to every charity he could, he reduced his own expenses to subsistence level to keep it up. He cut his own office hours to offer his time as a fundraiser for a children’s hospital, he had to bake a lot of cakes for their events. At every available opportunity he donated his own precious O+ blood that he may help somebody, anybody, who needed it. But he saw no benefit from his actions.

He felt appreciation in handshakes or in slaps to the back, he heard it in the kind words in his ear, but it made no impact to the scores. Nothing in the left hand or right hand column attested to his efforts. All he got were pins from the different organisations, and letters putatively written by orphans which he doubted as they all told the same story in the same language. These awards would have been sufficient if it hadn’t been for the fact that he could see the numbers, numbers which said he was adding nothing. They did not relate to his activities.

Stan was divorced from humanity.

Something had unstuck him from the general human experience. His actions were worthless in the overall picture. They were null, and so he became despondent. He maintained his course in the hope that something would change, maybe the numbers measure intention and because his intentions were to see them go up they stayed the same to spite him for dogooding as a kind of game. If he powered through, though, he knew the numbers may reflect his impact. How could he stop what he’d started when, regardless of the numbers, he knew he was doing something that must be a help?

Oh well, he thought as he woke every morning in the year since his awakening, back to the coal face of sympathy. Doing the right thing was not an easy job. It left him bereft of energy. He was low in money and in the physical things through which people judge their own progress. He had learned to live more simply and to find pleasure somewhere other than the acquisition of stuff. The people he worked with to try and do some good were a constant source of happiness. They all had their reasons for wanting to help, some had children who had recovered due to medical treatment and some had lost loved ones.

As he was putting away a cake stand at an event was approached by an elderly woman named Lynne, who was one of the organisers. They had not talked often as she was often busy with preparations but Stanley did not mind. The story he had heard was too awful. She had lost a child in very painful circumstances from an early onset degenerative condition.

“Hey Stanley.”
“Hi there Lynne, anything I can help you with?”

The question was not as helpful as it sounded in his head and he noticed it the second after it escaped his mouth.

“That’s alright, I just want to thank you for all you’ve done here. Your cakes are a real treat for the kids and have been a great funding boost.” She was becoming more sorrowful as she talked, “I’m glad we’ve still got young lads like you coming in to make a change.”
“Well,” Stanley paused, “It does feel good to do it. I wonder if I’m helping for the wrong reason.”
“And what are the right reasons?” Asked Lynne, “Do you think I just do this because I’m good? It’s a kind of therapy.”

Lynne began to tear up, “My poor girl, falling to pieces like that. This works helps me do something right, sure, it also takes me away from it for a minute.”

Lynne sobbed. Despite hardly knowing her, Stanley wrapped his arms around her.

“There, there.”

It was the best he could do in the situation. Somehow it was enough.

+1 for humanity.

 


So I mean the to do NaNoWriMo this year as I always forget, but I forgot to get started yesterday so I’m playing catchup already. This may have been a neater concept in my head and had a funnier ending, but perhaps I’all save that for another day. Watch this space!

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