You can choose to either hum “Dreadlock Holiday” or “I don’t like Mondays” as you are reading this. I’m going with the Boomtown Rats. It fits the mood more closely.
Facebook used to be my playground. A place to survey they antics of friends who live far away and to post potentially amusing one-liners about what I have been doing and what I may possibly be doing in the very near future. I have moved on somewhat and pay only the occasional visit now, I’ve been taken by the longer narratives and tales from around the world (in places I am unlikely to visit) that I find on WordPress.
I did pay a visit to Facebook last night. I’m afraid that I lost it a little bit and used some language that I wouldn’t be happy to use in front of my mother, or my son and possibly even anybody in the world who knows me.
The problem is with the “haters”. The particular post that made me flip was a comparison between rugby players and football players. It wasn’t the first time that the gentleman in question had posted such a thing but for some reason last night was the final straw. A picture depicting 5 silhouettes, four of them marked as different positions played in rugby and one showing an image of Tinkerbell labelled “footballer”.
I don’t mind that the chap doesn’t like football. I follow football, rugby, cricket and pretty much any sport that I can get to see. I do very much mind that he is so sad that he feels the need to denigrate the passions of other people and imply some sort of weakness or frailty because of his blinkered and damned near homophobic views.
He isn’t the only hater. It seems that one can’t turn around in this country without encountering bitterness and anger towards somebody. I don’t really know if it is generated by a jingoistic press or a general island based xenophobia but so many people put so much effort into hating when they would be better served by putting that same energy into something positive. Anything positive would do. Instead of spending countless hours complaining about an influx of immigrants or joining in with the creeping horror that is islamophobia do something good for goodness sake. Build a playground for the local kids. Trim an elderly neighbours hedge, stand for election and change things through a proper democratic fashion, just stop whinging and hating.
Meantime, I really don’t like parsnips. They smell wrong and taste too sweet for their own good. That doesn’t mean that I’m going to force my opinion on you about them and encourage you to eat swedes instead. That would be very wrong of me.