I’m calling this one early: it’s probably not going to happen. Then again, maybe I just haven’t thought it through. Sure, the Troubles and that (during a time I wasn’t alive/old enough to pay attention) were awful but it might actually be more possible than ever before to unite the divided and fractious components of the island of Ireland.
With my stunted understanding of a vastly complicated situation, let’s explore the possibilities open moving forwards. Well, the Republic of Ireland is incredibly unlikely to ever be knocking down the door of the UK, begging to be welcomed into the union. They’re rather happily (or otherwise, but they’re definitely staying) sticking with the rather more influential European Union thank you very much.
So the only other way to seal the pact and heal the breach or whatever is for Northern Ireland to be the ones who step outside their current affiliation. They voted overwhelmingly against Brexit after all. It’s relatively clear that all those gunning for an irrevocable split haven’t dedicated even the tiniest portion of brain space to the Irish border situation.
Therefore, if Westminster insists on continuing full steam ahead to whatever scrap of sovereignty they swear Brexit will bring us, it would probably be easier than anything else to dissolve the union. I don’t see anyone having an especially strong reaction to that proposal. Maybe if anyone does feel all that strongly about it, they could mount an invasion of the Isle of Man or somewhere similar. It’s not a willfully obtuse suggestion.
All the hypothetical situations aside, Ireland is facing a large decision of its own in the very near future. It’s not about anything as momentous as its position in the world, only the trivial matter of women’s rights. I sincerely hope that they do choose to repeal the 8th amendment because everything I’ve heard about it and its ill effects is crushingly awful. We need some hope for the future of humanity.
Alright, it’s some very slightly heavy-handed metaphorical imagery but it comes from a good place. It’s not exactly as if the elderly have a lot to look forward to. Perhaps the occasional visit from grandchildren, occasionally theirs, but that will inevitably come with a heaping helping of pointed questions as to when they plan to die and hand over the hoarded inheritance. The death of those higher up the ladder than them is the only hope most people have these days of any improvement in life.
So clearly, future resources cannot be further wasted on those who have previously gobbled up everything to the point that there aren’t any treats left for the rest of us. But it would be rather inhumane to simply stick them somewhere out of the way and bide our time until the eventual payout (I feel like I can get away with saying these terrible things because my grandparents are all out of the way and parents are going to live forever, I’ve made deals to that effect).
Therefore, dinosaurs are the obvious solution. There’s a small humour factor at the expense of those who can’t really fight against it but ultimately it’s quite cute. One day, they’ll be able to breed proper dinosaurs to keep pensioners company in their golden years but for the time being artificial ones are going to have to do.
Given the choice, they might have gone for something slightly fluffier or whatnot. So there really isn’t a better way of letting them know that you can’t always get what you want. Even so, there’s a decent enough range to be able to cater for all manner of needs. You’ve got the cuddlier soft toy versions as well as the more realistic models that can be used for waging imaginary war on your friends. Come on, the prospect’s making you look forward to second childhood just that little bit more isn’t it?
It’s been a while since we’ve had a full on career-ending tantrum in the powerful hallways of power. Until recently, I would have thought that Mr Johnson would be a prime candidate for such a spectacle. He and his frustrations have been bubbling away on the pressure cooker for what would seem like an ideal amount of time. Varied disappointments and setbacks would have got a less focused individual a little down in the mouth. Boris is apparently still biding his time.
I know he’s managed to squirrel himself into a ridiculously high-level office but he’s hardly doing a sterling job as Foreign Secretary now is he? If there’s any justice in the world (and at this point I’m somewhat on the fence about this), he’s not going to be Prime Minister. However, either he hasn’t accepted this widely held truth or he’s got more tricks than we’ve anticipated hiding up his sleeve. These both hold a certain amount of trouble for the British public.
Of course, there’s another possibility. Maybe Boris has acknowledged the fact that he’ll have to wait for his next life in order to become the universally recognised king of everything. In the meantime, he’s going to sow discord and generally mess things up for those with currently more exciting trajectories than his. He’s got his sights set on the honourable member for the eighteenth century.
The dark and increasingly oblique warnings have started being issued. This isn’t going to result in your common or garden variety meltdown. That would be far too good for the insufferable goon (which, to be fair, is a pretty cut and dry case of the pot calling the identical kettle black). It’s going to be an epic, world distracting evisceration. We’ll never have a Mogg in the top seat. We don’t know who will take the helm next but hopefully it’ll be someone who hasn’t actually been gunning for it their entire adult life. It’ll be a refreshing change.
Ah, forget about the actual headlines but we should take a moment to bathe in the glorious balm of headlines that aren’t about the royal wedding. There were only two of them so it made for rather slim pickings. But at least I didn’t let this particular important story slip through the cracks of rich people in love having a sweet time tying the knot. The Prime Minister has decided that it’s been far too long since we had a proper domestic war.
The divisions are running high or whatever and Theresa has devised a fresh plan she’s adamant is going to be a total vote winner. There are plenty of people out there who aren’t terribly keen on the poor examples of humanity cluttering up our various streets. Of course, there are bleeding hearts on the other side of the fence who’ll twitter on about each example of humanity laying claim to exactly the same rights as anyone else.
As such, May has been presented with a fine line to walk if she’s to do anything whatsoever to solve her selected problem. Understandably, she’s turned to technology. The old fashioned solutions: man power and general sweeping of unfortunates into obscure corners such as poor houses, probably wouldn’t be accepted as especially humane. However, introducing robots and artificial intelligence into the equation gives it a pleasantly futuristic feel.
Of course the whole thing’s backfired somewhat. Theresa never seems to see her decisions pan out precisely as she had predicted. Outrage has abounded about the clinically monstrous treatment of people. Look, semantics, optics, nuance or whatever. It’s all quite hard when you constantly have to worry about how you’re being perceived by an electorate. Then again, it doesn’t really seem to have that much of an adverse effect on the Tories so I don’t really know if it makes a damn bit of difference.
I’m not going to use the word kisstory (alright fine, I know that I just did but whatever. What I mean is that the stupid non-word is going into my title). It’s an insult to whatever reputation the British press still has that two different papers cobbled together this abomination of a portmanteau. But you know, two smiley people got married yesterday and after an hour or so’s break from writing this I realise I have absolutely nothing to say on the matter.
Yes, it’s terribly important indeed that someone who would have to slaughter his brother, father, niece and nephews in order to be next in line for the throne tied the knot yesterday. However, I still cannot help that I resent the fact that it continues to be all over the front pages. Call me whatever you want but I resent the fact that these people are lauded because of an archaic institution that by all rights ought to be incompatible with the notion of democracy.
Yes I watched it. Well, we were staying with my future in-laws and one of them wanted it on (luckily, it was after the event so the whizzing forward button was generously applied. My general excuse is that I’m very nearly a bride so I wanted to check out their flower displays or whatever because I could totally copy them with my budget.
It always seems to be worth saying that they seem like actually quite nice people. They’re downright adorable in fact. But it just shouldn’t be lent the level of importance it seems to automatically have and the taxpayer should definitely not have had to pay for a single penny of it. Tourism boosts be damned, we’re living in an age of austerity and universal credit poverty, it’s just wrong to be shelling out on this frippery when people were swept off the streets of Windsor to make way for their special day.
I really wish I could pretend that the bloody royal wedding wasn’t happening. Partially because I resent being compelled to care about people simply because of whose genitals they emerged from but also because the headlines this morning about them just aren’t good. On the other hand, there are two stories on other topics (down to the fact that even when ‘magical modern fairytale’ weddings are going on, other events don’t just stop) but neither of them are massively appealing.
Of course, I needn’t be chained rigidly to my own format but what would be the fun in that? Complaining about the headlines has allowed me to waffle on for over a hundred words so far. If I had to actually think about the topic then life would almost definitely be that much harder for little old me. Ruddy news outlets publishing the sorts of stories they reckon their readers are interested in *shakes fist at the sky in the absence of a roaming editor*.
Due to my own vehemence on the matter, it’s probably worth reiterating that I don’t have anything against Harry and Meghan as people. There, I’ve established my own wonderfulness in not bearing a grudge towards strangers I’ve never encountered and will likely never have the chance to meet over the course of my personal life. I hope the wedding goes without a hitch. Well, you know what I mean.
However, the fact that this is all being rammed down my throat (along with regular news reports about general apathy and people not even knowing there’s a set of pending nuptials – I long for that level of awareness) is what I strenuously object to. It’s only a wedding and resentful people such as I (seriously, it’s so rude. I’m getting married in like three weeks and everyone’s paying attention to this American chick) should have the option of not having to hear about any of it.
Did we really think we were still special? I can’t really see any particular reason for the rest of the world to hold us in especially high esteem (in all fairness, I can see that when you have the tangerine dotard in charge you might start feeling ever so slightly jealous of Theresa May), the US least of all.
It’s as if the empire never quite got the memo about American independence (although they never seem to stop banging on about it) and has been dead set on behaving like a jealous ex for a couple of centuries. Even in more recent decades, the UK was convinced that a special relationship was still in place, perhaps for the sake of appearances or the kids. However, I can’t help but suspect that our supposed friends across the pond rarely feel anything for us at all apart from the odd wistful notion of nostalgia.
All that’s about to change though as Mr America First seems eminently keen on alienating as many international alliances as possible before he’s escorted off the premises. It would be kind of funny to see the games that North Korea is playing in its flirtatious come ons and subsequent cold shouldering if the stakes of the situation weren’t quite so high.
In the meantime, there are plenty of other global ties to hack away at. Apart from China (who saw that coming? You know, apart from those who could have predicted how easily money could flow into various family projects) and France, he’s done a pretty good job of shoving everyone else out of the way. Isn’t it such fun? I’m sure we can accept rocketing prices of drugs as an easy sacrifice for all this swamp draining or what have you. He’s gone after the Iran deal, the Paris climate accord, who wants to see what he’s going to pull out of his arse next?