It’s as clear as urinating in snow, as they say in this neck of the woods. The era of playing by the rules ended when contradicting parents, ignoring teachers and disrespecting coppers became the norm.
The world segwayed seamlessly into two distinct societies, the conformers and the rebels; all in the cause of money and power.
But what’s to be done about sports dopers, automotive cheats and common or garden anarchists?
Well, years ago DK sanctioned a district in Copenhagen where the rules don’t apply. It’s Christiania. Of course its freedoms are abused but it satisfies some primeval antisocial urges.
So here’s the thing: sport is easy. Just run two systems, the clean and the ‘open’. Similar to the old gents v. players, amateurs v. pros.
For cars, establish two classes, conforming and others, differentiated by eye-watering tax rates.
All non-conformists would have to choose publicly not to conform but accept the consequences of their choice. Importantly no stigma would attach to it.
It can’t work, you say. No? Well the present set up is a train crash so what’s not to like?
Wot a booger
You woz robbed
By Oz at rooger
How we sobbed 😭
It’s the pain, doctor.
Where exactly, Janus?
Just here (pointing to heart).
And when do you get it?
Whenever I watch English teams play.
So it’s home-sickness then, the call from home?
No. That’s a sweeter feeling, like hearing I’m to be a grandpa for the 10th time.
Congratulations then! But back to the pain?
Yes. What’s the cure?
Get rid of the sports channels. Watch Danish tv. You’ll feel no emotion whatever and sleep extremely well. That’s the true meaning of ‘hygge’ (pron. hew- ga)!
Over in the Fens, at that inferior tech known among the cognoscenti as The Other Place, punting is under threat. ‘Elf and Softy are at work to render the extreme pleasure of messing about in flat boats totally anodyne.
If you have never tried navigating with the aid of a very long wet pole while standing on the rear end of an unruly craft, you can’t appreciate the sheer folly involved. A state of inebriation is the only guarantee of success – together with the presence of a beautiful young passenger of course, gazing admiringly at one’s prowess.
Punters henceforth will be breathalised before embarcation and warned that non-swimmers must wear life-vests. Water allegedly is…..well, wet and speeding (are you kidding?) is dangerous for all river users.
So my advice is decamp toute suite to the Cherwell, where no holds are barred and the age of waterborne chivalry is alive and risky as ever.
Pigs and flies take on a whole nuther dimension. But hey! Who hasn’t been embarrassed by reminders of student indiscretions? I know Backside has.
And luckily for Dave, Rebekkah is back in town, ready I’m sure to rejoin his Cotswold country supper set. Lol. So look out for more local goss, old chap.
Meanwhile the arch chav, Jerry, can’t help little Nicola with her CND revival, but ironically gives the Scottish labourites some ammo to fight her with. (Sorry about the preposition at the end there, Boris.)
And over in NY NY Dave’s leading the Syrian Peace Corps, with the help allegedly of our new mates, Iran, and Putin, suddenly everyone’s best friend.
More pigs and flies, Dave? Probably.