*When you think about it, Globalisation is a remarkable and beautiful thing isn’t is? - Us all living together on a big happy planet with everything to look forward to and no regrets. In the 1970s it was referred to as ‘progress’. And nothing should stand in the way of ‘progress’.
I love the fact that one day Europe will become a super state and we will have the same, if not more, armoury and power as the Americas do today, to force our values and opinions onto anyone that opposes our values or opinions. I relish the thought that Tesco will run our high streets, or music will only become available from either EMI or Apple (whoever kills the other) and that the food we eat will come from a great big vat in Spain that will be called ‘GloopCo. TM’ and will consist of only smells.
For the past 20 years, whenever anybody disagrees about anything at all, whether that be miners or steel makers, tax payers or racists – somebody will inevitably throw a Tesco shopping trolley through a McDonald front window. Nobody ever disapproves of this behaviour because this is basically the most correct and appropriate course of action in any circumstances. If I were a fly on the wall in an outlet of McDonald’s, I’d be constantly reviewing my escape plan from oncoming shopping trolleys in-between shitting and vomiting on burgers made from horses. A fly on the wall of a McDonald’s must maximise productivity, whilst minimising costs and with a constant and consistent policy on its safety.
China can be a superpower. I look forward to it. We can gorge ourselves on their cheap plastic things made by children forever and ever and ever like we have been doing forever and ever and ever. We could ship it over in massive metal containers and sell it in Poundland at Christmas. The economy will win. I see no losers. How about we build loads of houses on flood plains? The land is cheap so the builders can build high and sell to first time buyers for maximum profit, who will not protest as they don’t want to upset the lovely banks who will be lending them loads of money, at a price, in order to fulfil their beautiful, mid-twenty year old, happy-headed dreams. In our super Europe, Tony Blair can be boss. I don’t have any bones to pick with Tony Blair, apart from sending 4488 servicemen to their deaths and killing 172,902 civilians when really we just needed to get rid of 1 (maybe 2).
I love the fact, as a northerner, people who live in cramped, sordid conditions in the Cotswolds don’t need to fear in the back of their minds that a nuclear waste reprocessing site or power station might be built anywhere near their country cottages. They don’t have those silly nuclear trains going past their houses and their only real worry is that some ‘paki’ might blow themselves up whilst they are waiting in their BMW in a disabled bay at the railway station for their fat wife who has got an awful lot of shopping bags for a lady who has actually spent most of the day fucking a younger, better looking Pakistani gentleman.
I hope that more people are arrested for making jokes on social networking websites. Piers Morgan (#) can oversee that, if he has time to get his head free from his own gaping and enormous arsehole which has been wiped thoroughly clean by Lord Leveson and his sugar daddy Camerooon. I hope more journalists can have free access to dead people’s voicemails without even considering consulting their own conscience. I am totally skint and handled 3 iPhones, 2 Blackberries and £90 in cash yesterday and I didn’t even consider sticking any of them in my pocket or reading private text messages (other than trying my best to find the owner) - but still, we all have to make a living somehow, don’t we?
So I guess we will just run with it. Sit down and enjoy the pain, my children don’t matter & your children don’t mater. Consider our future and live every day as if it’s your last. Forget your elderly relatives; forget your own stupid teenage dreams. Just sit back and enjoy the strange weather and severe flooding. I won’t be turning up to your house in my green Citroën CV with a roof that makes it look like it could be a convertible but so obviously isn’t, as it’s a green Citroën CV, because I don’t have a green Citroën CV with a roof that makes it look like it could be a convertible but so obviously isn’t as it’s a green Citroën CV. But if I did… I’d tell you to stop watching the slow process of Simon Cowell’s cock exploding on your 72 inch plasma ‘Cowell Window’ mounted on your distastefully wallpapered piece of plasterboard you intended at one time to call a wall, and join me in the pubs & clubs listening, playing and feeling real life entertainment from real live people. That’s how you stop globalisation turning for the worst. You let everybody do whatever the fuck they like (as long as it’s not THAT or THAT).
Globalisation will run away only if we don’t all get involved. If it’s going to happen anyway let’s do it on our own terms. You can’t stop it as it’s already happened. You don’t have to do much to influence its course though, other than stop sitting back and accepting everything and anything that you don’t agree with. Why not write a blog? After all that’s all I’m doing.
Everyone has a blog, right?
Everybody should have a blog.*
*For the fantastic^ editors at The Daily Mail - Some words between the *s - may contain sarcasm and may not be, in reality, what I actually believe or think – but in fact the opposite of that which I believe and think.
(#) My mother now reads this blog so I can’t call Piers Morgan a cunt.
^ = Cunts