I honestly can't write politics.

The writer F. J. Burnley-Hampton had this to say about democracy:

“People are arseholes.”

While my views are not as radical as Burnley-Hampton’s I believe that his words will resonate with most arseholes. 

From a purely theoretical perspective I approve of democracy. I think it’s a good thing that everybody gets to have a punt on influencing the circumstances that directly affect their very existence.

But I’d give it up in an instant if I could find a really cool dictator. I don’t have anyone in mind specifically but they’d have the following qualities: 

1. The dictator should be really good at politics (it’s really hard convincing people that tyrrany is in their interests).

1. And the dictator should not feel the need to pretend they like the same shit as ‘the hard-working people of Britain’. The hard-working people of Britain won't be offended.

1. Kissing babies is not necessary.* The gesture does not offer the baby any assurance that the economy is in safe hands. Babies don’t have time for politics. Tyrants don’t have time for babies.

1. The dictator must have an understated sartorial style that generates column inches in the best Sunday glossies.

1. The dictator must not kowtow to corporate interests, unless in doing so they are helping a great number of people (ideally, nice people). If businesses misbehave, the dictator has the right to confiscate their assets and only give them back at the end of the day.

1. The dictator should be a good all-rounder who respects the fact we’re canoeing into a sixth extinction and perhaps try to do something about that, yeah?

1. The dictator should counsel with the brightest minds and consult the populace as necessary. Perhaps he or she should establish a democracy in order to keep his or her power in check?

1. The dictator would basically do everything I want and not need me to articulate what that is exactly. They would need a kind of telepathy, ideally the kind of telepathy that I’m not aware of (it’s really off-putting in social situations when someone’s reading your mind: staring into your eyes and holding two fingers to their temple as they do).

I think I must retract my comment about my wanting a really cool dictator. Basically because I have no idea how that would work.

What I really need is lots of really cool people who can act as dictator-in-aggregate and help me with all this thinking. Even if they are arseholes.

*admittedly this is a campaign practice and would be a redundant exercise for a dictator.

Heatwaves

No, I’m not enjoying the sun. 

I was made for caverns. Caverns, tunnels, tube stations and Anderson Shelters. 

When I am in possession of sufficient wealth I will buy myself a bolt-hole in the country. This bolt hole will be bored deep into the side of a mountain: a glabrous temple of shimmering damp. It will descend into the mantle of the earth until that goldilocks zone of coolened peacefulness is reached. There I will make myself a cup of tea and practice my singing. On occasion, I will trek to the entrance and survey the flesh-knobbled lands before me. I will place my hands on my hips and laugh heartily, like in a Scottish Tourist Board advert.

But it’s not something that I can easily admit to in polite company.

“I prefer the rain,” I say.

“You are deeply disturbed,” they say. 

They don’t really say that. I’m exaggerating for comic effect. 

They actually say:

“Yeah…sometimes I like the rain., especially when I’m tucked up in bed and I can hear the rain against the window. Real cosy.”

Which is irritating, because I like that too and I’m special. So I say:

“There’s nothing like walking through town with your jeans soaked-through, your hair plastered to your forehead, and your feet making fungal soup in your trainers.”

“It can definitely be invigorating,” they say.

“It’s the rheumatoid arthritis that I like.”

“You are deeply distubed,” they say.

I place my hands on my hips and laugh heartily, like in a Scottish Tourist Board advert.

But seriously, I have tried to analyse why it might be that I am so helio-adverse.

Like the best neuroses, it stems from childhood:

If it was sunny, people went outside and played football; if it was raining, people stayed inside and played board games. 

I have no real interest in getting rained on, all I want is to play Scrabble.