Look, I’m just corona-ed out. White flag. I can’t take any more! Dawn to dusk, ridiculous updates, ridiculous rules. People cannot be controlled; were never supposed to be controlled. Admittedly, this whole thing has revealed just how many sheep do live amongst us but, for all that, there are still some of us who can lay claim to an intellect and are more than capable of thinking for ourselves. Please, some respite, I beg you!
I was re-united with my car, this morning, which was bitter sweet. I am aware that people regard my symbiotic relationship with my beloved jeep with some amusement, disbelief even but it is a constant and I’m done with change, at the moment. Yes, it may be leaking oil from every orifice but I have been advised that palliative care is the way to go – for now – so I shall keep calm and carry on. Meantime, note to self, pop into that garage – EMS, Fife – on a daily basis for a dose of sanity! David and Grant? Possessing of manners, intelligence and humour, they are a rarity in this mad world and a five-minute chat about my car, followed by another umpteen on life – well, mainly, the hideousness of Nicola – is a much-needed tonic. Furthermore, contrary to popular belief, I am not the only living person clueless as to the words ‘app’ and ‘bluetooth’, never mind ‘blog’. Hideous word, anyway. It’s a diary! (Is it just me or can anyone else hear Brian Connolly, in his/her head saying ‘It’s a puppet!’?). No? Just me, then.
Shall I start with Nicola? Firstly, may I say that there is very little I can watch on television, now, which is, in any way, palatable to my delicate ear. The loss of a complimentary licence when/if I reach the age of 75 will not be a problem, I can assure you. The accents! I cannot stand it! Whatever happened to the Queen’s English? Reminded of the dulcet tones of Dan Maskell, during the Wimbledon fortnight which never was, it only served to highlight the great demise of standards; nay, the human race! Once, there was a desire to better oneself, regardless; now, it seems, the thicker one’s accent, the cheaper one’s appearance, the more deserving of a badge of honour. It’s all about appealing to the masses; dropping standards to the lowest denominator. Lorraine Kelly, once ridiculed for her broad Scottish tongue, now positively exaggerates it in her bid to remain one of the common people. The fact that she lives in luxury and travels the world on exotic holidays has only honed her Scottish accent, it really, really has, though God, alone, knows why. Actually, he is not alone in that. Refer back.
Not that I am targeting the Scottish accent, particularly – though the fact that, when a Sky subscriber, I used to tune to BBC London is somewhat telling. I suppose, if I’m honest, I crave an educated accent – and, for that, I am without apology! There is nothing more appealing than a refined Glasgow accent, for example, always with that customary guarantee of humour. A Highland lilt is musical, as is a soft Irish accent, and I admit to a bit of a soft spot for the Aberdonian voice but then there’s Nicola Sturgeon! German helmet aside, in all fairness, she can do little about the narrow lips but it is the characteristic aggression with which she uses them, in her exaggerated pronunciation, which galls. Down with the people, while ensconced in the proverbial council abode which is Bute House (Saltires, optional), she spits out her words with every bit of Scottish bite available to her, one of her particular favourites being ‘unpreeeceedented’! Devoid of refinement, she rolls her ‘r’s and, determinedly – that’s ‘deeetermin-edly’ – squeezes every last Scottish nuance from the English vocabulary (incidental irony) as I squirm whilst grabbing the sometime responsive remote! She’s doing a ste…rling job, though. Positively ripping!
I had no intention of voicing my inner hatred of accents – perhaps not so inner – but I defy anyone not to acknowledge their importance. When it comes to looks, for example, that which is emitted from one’s mouth can make or break. Trust me! Like it or not, it either enhances or detracts, at once revealing of so much. The thing is, as I said earlier, in this pathetically PC world increasingly subjected to the Tyranny of Tolerance, ironically, the aggressors are those who claim to be victims; the supposedly hard-done-by. How did we ever reach the point where ‘posh’ is a swear word and ‘common’ a badge of honour? It is imperative to remember, however, that the word ‘common’ – unlike ‘posh’ – is silent!
Moving on from Ms Sturgeon … in a minute. First, I must mention that which I intended to mention in the first place: namely, her ever-present signers. Is there any way of putting this delicately? Detracting though they most definitely are, I do appreciate they are there to interpret for the deaf or hard of hearing. Fair enough, although why is it that they only accompany Ms Sturgeon? Silly question! Another one … Why is it that none of them are the most pleasing on the eye? There, I have said it but I guarantee I am not alone in thinking it! Surely, there are many with the ability to sign who do not appear to have spent the whole of lockdown slumped on the couch with a bottle of wine and a fast food delivery menu? (No, hand on heart, I did not apply for the job!). Just an observation. Thoughts? Obviously, Kate Moss could not be prized from the couch but, in her absence, Ms Sturgeon benefits from the modern-day version of soft focus!
I have mentioned before that I lean very much towards misanthropy. No surprise there, then. Inherited from Pop, it is a word which can be found in the dictionary; more specifically, a large book full of words now obsolete and most likely to be found in a museum. Failing that, try Google! Worth remembering, though, should one ever find oneself ensconced in a game of Scrabble. Oh, help. It’s a game of words (not a puppet!) … Large gin required!
Last night, I tuned in to the live screening of John Cleese’s stand-up show, Why There is No Hope. On a quest for intelligent laughter, however, I found only a cynical acceptance. This modern-day apology for life, it would seem, has even beaten Basil! God help us all. To be continued …
In his words we live ‘in a world where people have no idea that they have no idea what they’re talking about.’
Thankfully, I am full of ideas!
This is Trish, signing off.