Oh, whatever.
I don’t do politics.
I mean, I vote and all that, but I don’t do politics, in the same way that I don’t do washing the car, or listening to the Ex talking about Land Rovers, or cleaning the oven. Oh, and when I say I vote, I don’t base it on anything, well, concrete or anything.
It’s just one of those things that I can’t be bothered to think about. I’m not built to take in lots and lots of information and then process it to make a decision. Really. It can take me up to half an hour of protracted discussions to decide what to cook for dinner, so politics is a bit of a non-starter. Even in my dreadlocked, anti-Criminal-Justice-Bill days, I only ever went on one demo, and that was a really small one in Chelmsford and all that happened was that my friend was threatened with arrest for saying “fuck” in conversation, and we had a bit of a sit-in by the bus station. The whole thing descended into farce when the police cordoned the road off in an effort to get us to disperse. They hadn’t bargained on the desire of a hundred or so stoners to get to the pub, however, and we just cut through the bus station concourse and ended up behind them while they pretended not to notice (I think they wanted to get to the pub as well). And that was pretty much the sum total of my political activism, apart from going on the legalise cannabis march in London in 1998. And I can’t tell you anything about that because I started drinking cider on the train at 8.30am.
So there you have it. I am the sort of person who, when a political item appears on the telly, reaches for Heat magazine to catch up on what’s hot on the red carpet this week. I felt a bit sorry for Charles Kennedy, but only because he seemed quite nice. I don’t care who has replaced him. It’s not to say I don’t have opinions, or a sense of justice and fairness; it’s just that I can’t readily translate that into a political framework. I don’t know the difference between Republicans and Democrats. I’m not clear on what some woman’s husband may or may not have done with some money that a man may or may not have given him. If I stumble across a blog that starts going on about bills, and statutes, and why a thing is wrong and another thing might be better I click away until I find something comforting and easy (or, if I’m really unlucky, Piggy and Tazzy). I could probably pick the Prime Minister out of a line-up, but that’s the extent of it. It’s all a bit beyond me and I can’t be bothered to bring it within reach.
I know this makes me a bad person. I know I am wasting the freedom that comes from living in a democracy, that oppressed nations throughout the world would leap at the chance to choose a leader within an agreed and ratified political system. I know this, but, if I may indulge my inner thirteen-year-old for a second, it’s so boring. And don’t huff, or tut, or bemoan my pathetically short attention span. It’s just not my thing. We’re all different, you know. You might find a bordering-on-personality-disorder obsession with Robbie Williams boring. You might say it makes me shallow. I’m not asking you to read Jackie Collins novels, or own The Sound of Music on dvd, or enjoy going to the zoo. So don’t ask me to care about the state of the nation or the future of all our children. It just makes you selfish, and nobody likes that in a person.
I mean, I vote and all that, but I don’t do politics, in the same way that I don’t do washing the car, or listening to the Ex talking about Land Rovers, or cleaning the oven. Oh, and when I say I vote, I don’t base it on anything, well, concrete or anything.
It’s just one of those things that I can’t be bothered to think about. I’m not built to take in lots and lots of information and then process it to make a decision. Really. It can take me up to half an hour of protracted discussions to decide what to cook for dinner, so politics is a bit of a non-starter. Even in my dreadlocked, anti-Criminal-Justice-Bill days, I only ever went on one demo, and that was a really small one in Chelmsford and all that happened was that my friend was threatened with arrest for saying “fuck” in conversation, and we had a bit of a sit-in by the bus station. The whole thing descended into farce when the police cordoned the road off in an effort to get us to disperse. They hadn’t bargained on the desire of a hundred or so stoners to get to the pub, however, and we just cut through the bus station concourse and ended up behind them while they pretended not to notice (I think they wanted to get to the pub as well). And that was pretty much the sum total of my political activism, apart from going on the legalise cannabis march in London in 1998. And I can’t tell you anything about that because I started drinking cider on the train at 8.30am.
So there you have it. I am the sort of person who, when a political item appears on the telly, reaches for Heat magazine to catch up on what’s hot on the red carpet this week. I felt a bit sorry for Charles Kennedy, but only because he seemed quite nice. I don’t care who has replaced him. It’s not to say I don’t have opinions, or a sense of justice and fairness; it’s just that I can’t readily translate that into a political framework. I don’t know the difference between Republicans and Democrats. I’m not clear on what some woman’s husband may or may not have done with some money that a man may or may not have given him. If I stumble across a blog that starts going on about bills, and statutes, and why a thing is wrong and another thing might be better I click away until I find something comforting and easy (or, if I’m really unlucky, Piggy and Tazzy). I could probably pick the Prime Minister out of a line-up, but that’s the extent of it. It’s all a bit beyond me and I can’t be bothered to bring it within reach.
I know this makes me a bad person. I know I am wasting the freedom that comes from living in a democracy, that oppressed nations throughout the world would leap at the chance to choose a leader within an agreed and ratified political system. I know this, but, if I may indulge my inner thirteen-year-old for a second, it’s so boring. And don’t huff, or tut, or bemoan my pathetically short attention span. It’s just not my thing. We’re all different, you know. You might find a bordering-on-personality-disorder obsession with Robbie Williams boring. You might say it makes me shallow. I’m not asking you to read Jackie Collins novels, or own The Sound of Music on dvd, or enjoy going to the zoo. So don’t ask me to care about the state of the nation or the future of all our children. It just makes you selfish, and nobody likes that in a person.
posted by surly girl at 7:46 pm
17 Comments:
People like you shouldn't be allowed the vote.
In fact, nobody should be allowed the vote. I should rule.
I have benevolent dictator characteristics that should not be mistaken for megalomania at any time.
We know where you live.
For crying out loud, didn't Surly tewll you not to mention Bird Flu when he *looks both ways* is about....
I loved the Chelmsford demo and the legalise cannabis march stuff.
Brings to mind one of Willie Rushtons cartoons of an Anarchist meeting: audience politely and quietly seated, Chairman stands up behind the desk on a Podium and says 'Disorder, Ladies and Gentlemen, Disorder.'
Well, I suppose you had to see it (or in your case Surly, be there).
I completely understand this. I cannot be bothered with politicians' NAMES and VOTING RECORDS and such. I have big picture ideas of some things I'd like changed, and will voice my opinion on the subjects in a vague manner, being sure not to reference specific statistics or anything.
I feel most of us at the think tank feel this way.
I love voting. It makes me feel dead grown-up.
You get to go to some community building that's usually out-of-bounds to the sprog free. And they give you free tea and bikkies.
Oh, hang on, that's giving blood.
(Glad your comments are working again)
I was a staunch 'tory in the halcyon days of the Iron Lady, a true capitalist and proud of it.
As I've got older I too have slipped into the same mindset as SG. It's not that I don't care about certain issues it's simply that all the UK political parties are so faceless and dull.
2 Jags is the only really interesting one amongst them and that's 'cos he punched some lout who threw shit at him...my kind of man !!!
I do vote counting which is good fun (if you're sad like me) - they give you free tea and diet coke and Mars bars, and you can snigger over how seriously the local politicians take things. And laugh when the "blue" votes at the end of the table make the whole thing collapse.
I always vote, but in a cynical way because I don't want the other lot to get in (... except that they probably will at the next election). Once you get to about 25 you realise that the same old problems crop up with politicians again and again and you can't trust any of them.
doesn't everyone own a dvd of 'the sound of music'?
if not, they should pass a law to make it compulsory, with the provision that local authorities can issue ASBOs to anyone who fails to produce one on request
not liking julie andrews dancing on top of an alp is surely a crime against humanity
I'm with you, surly. If I think about my political persuasion for more than a couple of minutes, I just get confused. I mean, I'm all for equality and freedom and civil rights and a free health service and free education and people coming to live in this country if they want, and being allowed to go where I want without some fucker wanting to scan my retina, but on the other hand I quite liked Maggie's ethos that people should actually take responsibility for their own quality of life, and not go about expecting other people to provide it for them.
Not sure what that makes me. And now I'm confused again. And let's not even get into the fact that I *think* I'm a Marxist, but I can't abide that idle layabout Karl Marx fellow, *and* I'm the boss of an evil (tiny) capitalist empire.
Politics, gahh. When do those Green Wing repeats start, again?
Is there a difference between Republicans and Democrats?
Historically, maybe. Now? No.
Please tell us you don't own the Sound of Music on DVD though.
I want to know why that Liberal bloke is called Menzies but everyone calls him Mingis? He sounds like a many-veined alien from Star Trek.
I shall keep my votes over the years and save them all up for when I'm nearly old and vote for garfer, if he'll promise to let me have a scalextrix in the old people's home.
So you like The Levellers and Green Day for the MUSIC?
I do own the Sound of Music on VHS. Perhaps that makes me a bad person too. And I don't pay enough attention to politics.
I'm an apathetic loser.
Pass me a beer would you?
the sound of music rocks.
well, it doesn't rock, exactly. but anyway, p&t, you're not proper pooves if you don't like it.
Haha - Mingis the Merciless eh?
The trouble with the Dead Kennedy party is that they are all a bit ridiculous and daft. The party for people who don't like parties. I always vote(d) Labour because of the unthinkable alternatives, not that I trust any of the tossers. Oooh, little bit o' politics, as B Elton says.
I don’t know the difference between Republicans and Democrats Oh thank goodness. Nor do I. Every time someone tries to explain it, my eyes glaze over. All that left wing, right wing business makes me hungry for KFC.
Nex
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