Self Deluded Cranium Dump

This latest blog entry is written for Comic Relief. Last week wasn't the best of this year. I wasn't feeling well. Hence, the "You have reached this blog, unfortunately there was no-one in to answer, so meanwhile, here's Jean Michel Jarre's Greatest Hits On The Panpipes Vol II" nature of the last blog entry. My week was uncomfortable, slightly dull and very frustrating; linked to the fact that I quite enjoy my new job and so was constantly pulling at the bungee-jump rope-lead of my crappy malady to get back to it. In my last job, there wasn't much of a struggle. My public face was of a trade union rep and I had to display outward feelings of impartiality, while inwardly I realised that the brown stuff was colliding with the air conditioner. Huh? You think YOU'VE got it bad?

Of course, previously, I just looked to friends who were having a tougher time than my indulged precious worklife. There's my dear friend, Ster, who remarks on his tireless work as a careworker; this often involves wiping an arse an awful lot, and it's often not his own. Meanwhile, Buddhist Cop (or Pouty MacPout), in her bountiful bravery for London's Metropolitan Police force readily texts me from the morgue while looking into some cadaver's guts. Nice. But undercutting both of these friends of mine is my pal, Marching Band Guitarist. His fate? You think YOU'VE got it bad?

The poor sod was subtitling a Tory Party Political Broadcast. Unlike the last two protagonists, doing a job because they felt it benefitted a service to the public, he was locked in the equivalent of a stuck elevator with the reincarnation of Norman Tebbit (re-incarnation? you mean he's not dead yet? my mistake). Adding insult to injury, also stuck in the hypothetical elevator was an innocent deaf bystander, needing to hear everything that's been said. Marching Band Guitarist, through his job, had to translate the rather objectionable load of bollocks being transmitted around said chamber. Just in case anyone feels I'm being a little over-critical of David Cameron's new incarnation of the Conservative Party, I should add it was a very specific broadcast by a very specific Tory MP. The Tory used such choice phrases as "troublemakers" and "youths", as well as Marching Band Guitarist's "favourite" phrase from this beloved right-wing non-entity, ""We need to do less on rights, and more on wrongs!" (after the supposed "troublemaker's" refrain of "I know my rights"). I think Marching Band Guitarist was cradling his head in his hands at that point. Poor sod. You think YOU'VE got it bad?

That last pal of mine had it really tough, because not only was he shut in an editing booth, he was having to hear the most blinkered of privileged moans and then having to nail it down for a minority, a lot of whom would probably reply with, "So what? I'm deaf, I've got other things to worry about". It leads me rather neatly to other friends, people who have it tougher everyday and don't have things that I take for granted (quite apart from all five senses). They're my friends, your friends, they're members of the human race. For example, there are carers for disabled people in the U.K. that aren't wanting to be patronised and are wanting to contribute to society. Outside the U.K., there are honest people trying to carve out an honest living in Africa and looking for trade that is being undercut by an unhelpful international trade agreement. That knee-jerk reaction of a reactionary party political broadcast said it all; in these times of spoiled bankers and grabbing what little we perceive we have, there's still a tendency to kick downwards. Because, in the narrow bandwidth of human experience, there's always someone else worse off, if we can afford to think just a bit more. You think YOU'VE got it bad?

In the few times that people kick upwards, they tend to kick the wrong people. A lot of the same people bemoaning the most vulnerable citizens of society as being the rot, also seem to complain about Comic Relief and the 'overprivileged entertainers' raising their profile by highlighting a faux awareness of people less fortunate than themselves. Well, sorry, the world has moved on - a lot of these 'overprivileged entertainers' can (and do) easily raise their profile by telling us what they're having for their tea on Twitter. Those who like the 'first point of contact' Heat-lite gossip go mad for this type of thing. Others like the updates on a purely human interactive level, as well as the polite broadcasting of artistic projects. The entertainers don't really need a charity telethon to raise their profile these days. On that final point, the entertainers are filling a position in a monetarist society anyway; appealing to peoples' individual choice in giving to charity.

Superficially, society is supposedly kicking against the 'get rich' paradigm and going through a personal re-evaluation of what's important. At a deeper root, they're still wanting the lowest-of-all-lowest taxes and keeping as much to themselves as possible. As such, they're still subscribing to an out-dated idea of the 'trickle-down' economy of enlightened entrepeneurship giving back some proceeds.

In which case, they should listen to their 'overprivileged' Comic Relief cousins dancing like puppets, free-of-charge, entertaining them for nothing, and they should give a little something back for it. But not to them, comedian entrepeneurs that they are, but to the causes of our forgotten Third World neighbours instead. For all of you, do what I'm going to do. Laugh raucously at the uneven comedy sketches. Don't fast-forward or mute the appeals in-between, because then you realise... do you think YOU'VE got it bad?

If Africa is really too far away for you, and those friends of ours are perceived as "too distant" then remember that Comic Relief is giving a rather large amount of money to homegrown charities. Those are the UK charities for women and children that are victims of domestic violence, that can't get of a cul-de-sac trap. Other British charities concentrate on young peoples' problems with mental illness, as well as older people who are isolated and vulnerable. But after that, spare a thought for my pal subtitling a distinctly unworthy cause. After I reminded him of my friends, Ster and Buddhist Cop, he responded with "You know what? I think I'd actually rather spend an hour of my time wiping arses *in* a morgue". You think you've got it bad.

This week, Chris Nicholson has basically been saying: donate to Comic Relief. Or, alternatively, vote for governments that invests taxes wisely in attacking poverty, environmental protection and sensible trade policies. Oh...