Entitled to an Opinion?
Why is it that people feel entitled to offer me their completely unsolicited opinions on various issues? On a daily basis I find myself regaled by just about every strolling pillock it is my misfortune to encounter, with their views on everything from illegal immigrants, Tony Blair, Jose Mourinho or the possibility of prehistoric apemen living in the Cotswolds. The one thing that all of these utterances have in common is that they are totally moronic and bereft of any intellectual values. Indeed, they are based on such a high level of ignorance of their given subject, that I probably shouldn't even grace them with the term opinions. Bigotry, would perhaps be a better description. Even when these utterances are in any way 'informed', it usually turns out that their 'factual' basis is either The Sun or Daily Mail, or, even worse, 'received opinion', from the radio, internet or some bloke down the pub. Every time I find myself bombarded with this bollocks, I just silently scream: "Shut the fuck up! When I'm desperate enough to want your opinion, I'll shoot myself!" Whatever happened to the 'good old days' when dispensing this sort of 'wisdom' was the preserve of taxi drivers and barbers? I blame the rise of radio phone ins for encouraging every Tom, Dick or twat to think that their idiotic babblings are interesting enough to be inflicted on a wider audience.
Even worse than being subjected to the opinions of morons with regard to world events, is being offered their opinions in the form of advice with regard to your personal conduct. Once again, this is inevitably completely unsolicited. As an example; many years ago a lift in the building I worked in was failing to respond as I tried to call it to the ground floor. As one does in such situations, I repeatedly pressed the call button. Suddenly, without provocation, this complete stranger standing behind me, says: "That doesn't do any good, you know". Excuse me? Did I ask for your opinion? Are you a highly trained lift engineer? Fuck off! Did I say any of these things in reply? No, I didn't. What I did say was: "Actually, it does do some good - it makes me feel better". At which point the lift arrived, thereby exposing his unwanted 'advice' for the abject shite it actually was. Increasingly, I find this sort of thing extending beyond unsolicited advice, to unsolicited observations and remarks from strangers. I used to have a very battered briefcase I used for work - it was literally bulging with the amount of paperwork I had to cram into it. The number of times complete arse wards felt it necessary to say something along the lines of "You need a new suitcase mate!" or, "It's about to burst, mate!", to me in the street. What's it to you dickless? Why don't you mind your own fucking business, shit for brains? Once again, I've never actually said either of those things in reply. I've thought them, though. Actually, it never ceases to amaze me that, in a society where, increasingly, nobody ever sees anything when a crime is committed, or wants to get involved in campaigns and the like, people seem so eager to poke their noses into your personal business. Is it any wonder I increasingly want to be a recluse?
Even worse than being subjected to the opinions of morons with regard to world events, is being offered their opinions in the form of advice with regard to your personal conduct. Once again, this is inevitably completely unsolicited. As an example; many years ago a lift in the building I worked in was failing to respond as I tried to call it to the ground floor. As one does in such situations, I repeatedly pressed the call button. Suddenly, without provocation, this complete stranger standing behind me, says: "That doesn't do any good, you know". Excuse me? Did I ask for your opinion? Are you a highly trained lift engineer? Fuck off! Did I say any of these things in reply? No, I didn't. What I did say was: "Actually, it does do some good - it makes me feel better". At which point the lift arrived, thereby exposing his unwanted 'advice' for the abject shite it actually was. Increasingly, I find this sort of thing extending beyond unsolicited advice, to unsolicited observations and remarks from strangers. I used to have a very battered briefcase I used for work - it was literally bulging with the amount of paperwork I had to cram into it. The number of times complete arse wards felt it necessary to say something along the lines of "You need a new suitcase mate!" or, "It's about to burst, mate!", to me in the street. What's it to you dickless? Why don't you mind your own fucking business, shit for brains? Once again, I've never actually said either of those things in reply. I've thought them, though. Actually, it never ceases to amaze me that, in a society where, increasingly, nobody ever sees anything when a crime is committed, or wants to get involved in campaigns and the like, people seem so eager to poke their noses into your personal business. Is it any wonder I increasingly want to be a recluse?
1 Comments:
Tony the Tiger always seemed a bit camp for a real tiger. I suspect he was actually Fred Flintstone in a tiger suit. Paul McCartney is obviously too rich to dress up like that and he can't do American accents very well (listen to Rocky Racoon)
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