That’s the thing about democracy…

…it’s all well and good until actually, not enough people agree with your point of view.

If you’d have looked at social media for the last few weeks, you’d have seen a near non-stop barrage of anti-Boris, anti-Conservative, Pro-Corbyn rhetoric. If social media was the way in which new governments were elected, there would surely be no doubt as to who the winner would have been.

But – shock, horror – that’s not the way things work. And suddenly, reality has hit home and Boris has been elected with a massive majority.

There are a few different ways that you can deal with this sort of disappointment. You can wail, gnash your teeth and stamp on a newspaper picture of a triumphant Mr Johnson, like a toddler who didn’t get its way:

Nah then, Mardy Bum!

But it really won’t make any difference. And then a cleaner will have to clean up after you. Well done, Uzair.

You could accept that maybe your party didn’t have a clear policy on Brexit, didn’t work hard enough get rid of its massive anti-semitism problem, didn’t approach the election and the electorate well.
Or maybe your party did have a clear Brexit policy, but not the one that people wanted. Maybe your party also had a clear leader until last night in Dunbartonshire East.

But no. Surely the best way is just to keep telling yourself – and everyone else – that those people who voted Conservative are just stupid. Maybe throw in a Turkish proverb (and I’ve seen this three times already, so it must be true):

‘The forest was shrinking, but the trees kept voting for the Axe, for the Axe was clever and convinced the trees that because his handle was made of wood he was one of them.’

or just let people know that you know what’s going on, and the 14 million individuals who voted the other way, simply don’t:

Honestly, voters are just sleepwalking our country into a worsening services crisis.

or combine the Turkey thing and the festive season and tell those 14 million Conservative voters that they’re clearly idiots and you know better than them; you know better than all of them.

If the exit polls are correct, the turkeys haven’t just voted for Christmas, they’ve helped hang the decorations and buy the stuffing!!!

After all, choosing to belittle Leave voters after the Brexit referendum worked really well and got that one reversed, so why not?

And then, the final option: your plan to move abroad. Apparently, Ireland always looked great (although it rains a lot). Portugal: shit economy, difficult language, but an EU passport. Or now – suddenly – Scotland. You’ve always liked Scotland. Oh, The Drama of it all. I did lol.

#notmygoverrnment?

Mmm. Yeah. Actually, it is. That’s just how it works.

Look, I’m not saying that Boris Johnson is going to be the greatest leader that the UK has ever had. I’m not saying that Brexit is going to be easy – albeit that this is clearly a mandate for it to finally go ahead now.

But what I am saying that life really isn’t over just because “your guys” didn’t win. I’ve often been a bit sad when Sheffield United didn’t get the result I wanted, but hey, we’re all still here, aren’t we?

Hello?

UPDATE:

Oh right. That’ll be what it is then. [rolleyes emoji]

Just how hot is it?

It’s warm, certainly. A quick peek at the mercury digital thermometer on my return from the local Pick and Pay suggested somewhere around 27ºC in the shade. There’s a slight breeze though, and that certainly makes it bearable – even rather pleasant, in fact. Or so I thought.

There was a larger, middle-aged lady in the supermarket just now who was clearly feeling the heat a little more than I was though. But still, is it really hot enough that you take a large chunk of (yes, thankfully wrapped, but still…) cheese out of the refrigerator unit, place it against your glowing forehead, rub it down the sides of your neck, then move it slowly across the top of your sweaty breasts inside your blouse…

AND THEN PUT IT BACK IN THE FRIDGE FOR SOMEONE ELSE TO BUY? 

I very nearly blew chow.

Absolutely shameless. And absolutely disgusting. I passed comment and she just shrugged. And then, as I was leaving, I told the manager what I had just witnessed and left him to deal with it.

On loadshedding (this time around)

Good afternoon from Cape Town.

I’m sitting here writing a blog post to take my mind off the fact that I will be missing at least the first half hour of Sheffield United’s match at Norwich City because there’s loadshedding (“rolling blackouts”) and we’re being loadshod right now. There are no electricitys.

How am I writing this, then? Well, my laptop has a battery. However, the router does not have a battery, so I’m writing this offline with the intention of uploading it once the power comes back on again at 4:30.
I could connect to the internet via my phone, but that gets properly pricey after a while (because data in SA is ridiculously expensive), so let’s just wait for (only slightly less expensive) fibre to come back on and then I’ll get it done.

Sadly, as an average SA consumer, I don’t have any choice when it comes to being loadshod. I pay my bills, I pay my taxes, and yet I still get very little in return. In the current (no pun intended) situation, nothing at all. And so you just have to get on with life. But that doesn’t mean that I must be content with the way that things are. Just because we are powerless (slight pun intended) to change the situation, doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t be irritated about it: normalising loadshedding is not a healthy way to deal with a problem which has been brought about by mismanagement, corruption and general kakocracy.

And so for several hours each day, we walk this weird tightrope between sighing acceptance and fully justified anger.

I fully admit though that it is, more than ever this time, beginning to wear me down a little.

Sensible advice

Never – NEVER – believe anything any politician or government official says.

They all make promises they can’t keep, paid for with money they don’t have. It’s the same the world over.

And we end up sitting with no electricity for 7½ hours a day, despite what they assured us just 3 months ago.

Capno in the news

Uh-oh!

Indeed. Step forward Capnocytophaga canimorsus.

This is why I always love it when dog owners bring their pets into supermarkets and coffee shops. Because yes, Capno is – as it states above – rare. But there are numerous other more common (but ok, potentially less serious) bacteria, viruses and parasites that your friendly neighbourhood pooch is carrying around with them, right next to you as you’re having your breakfast or buying your food.

(And don’t even get me started on cats…)

Nice.