Thursday, 26 April 2012

It's "Political Correctness Gone Mad" Gone Mad

There is a rule, to be found on the internet, which states that a parody of something extreme can commonly be mistaken for the real thing and vice versa.

I had this in mind when I got a leaflet though the post advertising the forthcoming mayoral election. Now you might not know about this, as it isn't something often discussion on the television, radio or internet but apparently there is this election to decide who is going to be the next elected Mayor of London.

You may find it hard to believe but I find elections quite interesting as a whole. The last general election, with the whole activating the queen, and tracking a car driving from one house to another live from a helicopter was a case in point. I'd even watch coverage of a US election, on the grounds that it will certainly affect what goes on elsewhere, even if it is as incomprehensible to me as American football.

But the mayoral election isn't very interesting at all. In fact the most interesting thing is that the candidates drew lots to decide what order they were going to appear in the booklet.

The big three candidates are exactly the same ones as last time, looking slightly older, world-wearier as their visage appears next to colourful backgrounds, lists, and all the rigmarole of politics.

Given the mainstream guys are so boring, one can't help but find oneself reading up on the fringe guys, who together make up about 7% of the vote together (it's hard to tell with all of this 2nd preference stuff)

I can't remember if I just imagined it, but I'm sure someone promoted the idea that if a parking meter was broken you could park for free, prompting some wag to point out you could just kick in the nearest parking meter every time you parked.

I suppose if you're a fringe candidate you can just make up any old shit, secure in the knowledge it won't matter so I'm interested in UKIP's "20 minutes free parking" idea. I can only assume they will be building car parks down to the mantle.

But it's the BNP who baffled me beyond all rational comprehension this time, so I am assuming under the law mentioned above, must have been replaced by some satirical organisation hell-bent on ridiculing the far right.

I mean for crying out loud their candidate is called Carlos Cortiglia. My first assumption was that he was born here to parents from foreign, but no, he is actually from foreign! And a non-English speaking foreign too. Oh apparently Uruguay was built on British ideals. Didn't the Spanish nick it from some natives? Not much Britain there.

Okay, he is white, but still. Does that somewhat defeat the point?

Still I think he wins some kind of chutzpah* for introducing a policy to make tube travel free at weekends, whilst simultaneously abolishing the congestion charge. Nice one!

* Sorry I think that's a foreign word. I should be using traditional British languages like Welsh or Norse really.

Wednesday, 11 April 2012

I Have Forgiven Golf

I have always tried to be a snob and a reverse snob in equal measure, in the hope that somehow this will cancel each other out and I will become a well-rounded person.

Of course it doesn't work like that, however much you hope, just like trying to know a little bit about everything ends up with massive gaps and a tendency to be glib.

It is the same with sport. I wouldn't say I have no interest in sport, but I don't really know what's going on and when those inevitable blokey football conversations I flounder* terribly.

But like my previous decision not to miss out on books just because the author may or may not be a misogynist prick if it was a good one, I have decided not to dismiss sports because they're for "poshos" or that they serve imperialism or whatever.

And golf is just darts outdoors with sticks really. But I won't be donning a Pringle jumper or whatever it is that they wear these days.

* Although nothing will top the moment last Sunday when I referred to Arsenal midfielder Mikel Arteta first as "Arriety" and then "Aloutte" in front of my dad and uncle, who were both desparate to know the latest news from Ashburton Grove whilst we were in a pub with limited signal.