It will definitely be a book but could also be the makings of of newspaper contributions or a series of blog posts.
Beware
of the Bull
If Thinking Aloud
Is Still Allowed
Joe
Cushnan
Published
in 2015 by FeedARead.com Publishing
Copyright © 2015 Joe Cushnan
The
author asserts his moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act,
1988, to be identified as the author or authors of this work.
All
Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored
in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the
prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in
any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and
without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A
CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
INTRODUCTION
The
full title of this book is really ‘Beware of the Bullshit’ because bs is all
around us. We are swimming, sometimes drowning in an ocean of political
correctness + made-up rules by officialdom + opinions shouted, tweeted et al to
sound like facts from every Dick and Dora + bandwagon-jumping politicians
sounding tough or weasely + advertising executives scaring us to death in a bid
to get us to buy cure-all stuff + daily frustrations and irritations to drive us
to the brink of insanity, and on and on and on. We must be on our guard because
every second of every day someone is trying to manipulate us to hand over our
votes, our loyalties, our personal information and especially our money, or
they are just annoying oiks getting in the way of a simple life.
Resist
this nonsense. Beware of the bull. This book identifies some of it in my humble
and, at times, not so humble opinion.
(And some taster entries.......)
Stop treating
libraries as community hubs, crèches, nurseries, playgrounds, youth clubs,
silver surfer sanctuaries and gigantic phone booths. They are places for books,
reading, study, quiet contemplation, not indoor playgrounds for kids to run
around in or places for adults to shout into their mobile phones, chat loudly
or cackle uncontrollably. Sssssshhhhh.
Stop buying
personalised car number plates. A55 H0LE5.
Stop
reinventing, reshaping, remoulding, rewriting Star Wars. We get it. We got it a
long time ago. These days the pointy-ear guy must be offending somebody.
Enough.
Stop playing
screechy diva soul music in coffee shops or else I will counter it by reading
my newspaper in a high-pitched voice, slurping my coffee loudly, smacking my
lips as I eat a pastry and burping with all the gusto of Desperate Dan.
Stop kidding
ourselves that reducing plastic carrier bags is going to save the planet. All
it does is tidy the place up (and that’s okay) but as an effective
environmental action, it sits between pissing in the wind and farting against thunder.
Stop
politicians and environmental lobby groups from dictating how much plastic we
use. If you give me the choice of war (you know, that thing that bombs the shit
out of the planet) and plastic, I’ll take my chances with the plastic.
Stop wasting
political party money on printing manifestos that will be shredded the day
after elections. Fewer manifestos, a decline in supplies of shredded paper and
a hamster cage bedding crisis is the worst scenario.
Stop
inventing scientific-sounding ingredients for cosmetics, lotions and potions
and just admit it’s snake oil infused with gobbledegook and a dash of balder.
Stop
crowding entrances to buildings with your gangs of smokers. You smoke if you
want to. I’ll not smoke because I prefer not to. But spare me the jog through
your fog-smog whilst holding my breath, otherwise I’ll fart my way in and see
how that goes down.
Stop
putting me on hold when I call a service centre. You call centre people have
forced me to hate Vivaldi’s Four Seasons and no matter how often you tell me
how important I am, I am so thoroughly pissed off that I am very reluctant to
confirm my mother’s maiden name which, by the way, is really none of your damn
business.
Stop
texting while walking. One day you will fall down an open hole in the pavement
and never be heard from again. No signal.
Stop contaminating TV soap operas with criminals, boozers and liars. Does life in these miserable locations not have any comedy? Does it all have to be gangsters, guzzlers and gits?
To be continued......
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