Theresa May is mad. I realise that this is an enormously slanderous thing to say in print, but let’s take a look at the evidence. Number one: she is exercising her ‘Freedom of Expression’ (Human Rights Act, 1998 – Part I, Article 10) whilst simultaneously arguing against her ability to do so. I realise that she is a member of the Conservative party and, therefore, would still be allowed to debate if the human rights act was scrapped; however, as her opinion is against the grain, she would never, ever be allowed to voice it to the public. Number two: her entire argument against the human rights act is based upon two things: racism and her job being ‘difficult’ at times. I’d also like to state at this point that, as an Oxford graduate, Mrs. May probably possesses no concept that work is intended to be ‘difficult’ – especially running a country. The human race can’t live off of a combination of polo games and French Fancies alone. Number three: look at a photo of her. She has mad eyes.
I could talk forever about the manifold ways in which Theresa May is mad or the manifold ways in which Theresa May is wrong but I’m not entirely sure that anyone involved in the effort would profit by it. Indeed, I could write a self-help book entitled ‘Theresa May: What Not to Do’ and I’d still just be stating the obvious. No, the far more interesting effect of Theresa May’s insanity is that it seems to be spreading. For example: David Cameron. Contagious insanity is no laughing matter so I think that perhaps, in the interest of public safety, it might be fitting to write a list of symptoms.
Symptoms of Theresa May Syndrome:
- Increasing dissatisfaction with an extremely easy life-style on the basis that it is not always entirely possible to get your own way.
- A rise in prejudice against poor or coloured people (especially immigrants) and an insistence that anybody from the Middle-East must be a terrorist.
- Desire to see capital punishment re-instated and a complete disregard for any artifice of human feeling. This may be coupled with an inability to feel love.
- Bizarre fantasies regarding the application of cats holding any sway within the British Judicial system.
If you think that you have been infected by Theresa May Syndrome, please contact your local GP immediately.
So, as everybody knows, Facebook has changed. There is a side-bar where there once was not, advertisements upon every page and a strange sense of futility running amongst its users. Commentary on this event – this small change to a website – has been immediate, plentiful and wide-ranging. From the ever amusing ‘lol no fb’ to material too rude to be put into print: the response to this event has been phenomenal. As a side-note, other events within the week of this change included the Wall Street protests, more worries over the economy and the downfall of Western society and Ed Miliband making an idiot of himself. I’m pretty sure they don’t matter though, right?
Okay, I’ll be fair about this. Before I launch into a tirade against social networking websites, I will at least say that I understand their importance. I too have been guilty of filling the internet with utterly pointless and benign information. It has to do with social consciousness. The reason that we use social networking websites is inherent to the name: we use them to socialise. I don’t think I’m being too harsh with my opinion but I do understand. It matters, immediately, what such-and-such a boy or girl thinks about such-and-such and event in their lives because it matters, immediately, within their social context. Politics, at least on surface value, don’t.
However, whilst I understand this, the constant media (and government – at least after the Tottenham riots) portrayal of Facebook and Twitter as important outlets for political opinion must at least give us a cause to re-examine ourselves. In an age where it is entirely possible to learn anything about anything with a few quick taps upon a keyboard, I would argue that to ignore the larger events in the world and to withhold opinion on them is, in itself, an ‘a-political’ action. Now, more than ever, everything that we think or do possesses a political meaning, if only because it is published. With a silence upon political events, we mark ourselves as willing to accept any change politics throws at us, regardless of what we actually think.
Ultimately, I think that it has become important to truly re-examine what it means to be ‘a-political’. That is to say, in the language of my contemporaries, which is more important: ‘LOL my cat just sat on my face’ or ‘our entire culture is crumbling in upon itself’?
O -/-/-/- ‘what is the one word know to all men?’ -/-/- the bar is sprinkled with sound as I reach for my wallet: five pounds; he stops me; he places an old hand upon my shoulder; he draws out a twenty: ‘you have to buy drinks for your mates’ -/-/- I walk into the city feeling rough; my heart swells at the mass of living things, crawling over the streets like beautiful rats -/-/- ‘what is the one word known to all men?’ -/-/- I see a man, vaccuming the pavement, blissfully aware of the situation: he smiles at me -/-/- in the darkness of night and the sunlight of day and all time, the smallest of humane actions are infinite -/-/- ‘what is the one word known to all men?’ -/-/- love -/-/-/- ▲