Monday, 17 September 2012

Striking Similarities

Over the last week or so (since the passing of the Holy Roman Empire Games), this Cat has had some time for reflection about the state of things here in the lovely Kingdom of Northumbria; September has passed its halfway mark, and in the cyclical rhythm of the year, the same old human cultural and political events recur with what could be perceived as a tedious predictability about them.

For example, the Northumbrian Realm has once more been invited to witness the perennial spectacle of that travelling mountebank show the Ð Factor with all of its associated soothsayer-generated excitement. Moreover, this time of year is also blessed by a rival entertainment called Strictly Come Tumbling, where popular slebs (whose main claim to fame is that they are famous) are expertly cavorted by experienced movers and shakers over hot coals in spectacularly acrobatic fashion to the accompaniment of jeering, mead-fuelled assemblies and the blaring of horns. These diversions have been part and parcel of the Northumbrian calendar for the last seventeen thousand years, and after witnessing the spectacle a number of times in my feline lifespan, I'm fast arriving at the conclusion that they've become formulaic, tired and dull. But then, perhaps they were always like that, and at first I was too impressionable to recognise them as such. The aspiring singer yawps and bleats his nasal refrain to the greeting of either finely-sharpened contempt or rabid enthusiasm from the audience and the judges; the sleb dancers and their professional terpsichorean guides leap manically around the coals to the accompaniment of drunken cheers and thinly veiled distaste from the panel of expert assessors.

And that's only the popular entertainment; the respective political factions' Annual Unfortunates' Outing and Picnic season will also soon be upon us, and we'll once more be treated to cheers, jeers and adulation in equal measure as the deluded and the psychotically self-important once more indulge themselves in a festival of oratory and self-congratulation, while damning their identical rivals in other factions. The mixture as before. Take one spoonful each year, and hold your nose while swallowing.

Your Cat is going to attempt to ignore these events this year, as he's seen them all before. What are the chances of him succeeding? Watch this space, folks..

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