Saturday, 3 November 2012
It's a minefield out there as you carefully negotiate your chatty way through life, dodging the bear traps and skipping over the potholes on the oh so rocky social dis-obstacle-course. Obstacle courses used to be so much fun as a kid; laughing and giggling as you grazed your knees and bruised your egos and learned how to fend off childish insults with even better ones.
All of which is why this kind of story, about a Glasgow pub's "Ugliest Woman Competition" is both funny and sad. The pub was visited by police after an anonymous complaint was lodged, however, "they gave manager George Hogg the go ahead after discovering it was, in fact, a competition for men dressed as women." Funny, because it just IS. Sad because only the product of years of political correctness and pompous and damaging thought crime prosecution could lead to a situation where the police response was anything other than, "You're surely taking the piss?"
And so from the playing fields to real life; like the chilli in your stir fry, casual insults liven up our dull and dreary lives and make banter better. Accepting an insult with good grace is the mark of civilised man and giving as good as you get is a sign that you have achieved your majority sense-of-humouro intacto.
Oi, you cheeky monkey! Hey, shit-for-brains! Who ate all the pies? Don't mind him, he's a bit 'special'. You clueless fuckwit! If he had one thought in his head he'd be dangerous. Think you're a wit? You're half right. She's been banged more than a Monday morning snooze button. Wow, you're even dumber than you look. I've heard more coherent arguments from a schizophrenic with Tourette's. Oh, I could play all day...
You think I'm condescending? Do you even know what that means?
But they've banned the obstacle courses now. In the lack-of-adventure playgrounds of today, children are taught to be kind and civilised and tolerant and oh-my-god, so fucking DULL. But being nice on the outside is sinister. It's Peter Mandelson personified. It's oleaginous and slimy and just plain wrong, because it invariably turns out to conceal contempt and malice and the underhand betrayal of what used to be common British decency.
So, in the spirit of all that is good and wholesome and robustly Anglo-Saxon we should track down the complainants and hurl bawdy badinage at the loathsome inadequates until they fucking well cheer the fuck up, or fuck the fuck off!