Not to long ago, I wrote an entry saying that I felt sorry for the next generation of the Fat Acceptance movement because nowadays the culture of body-shaming is so pervuasive that it reaches people who, normally, it would have passed straight on by due to them being, y’know, not old enough to be worrying about that shit. It should come as no surprise- except, perhaps, to people who are still shocked by the sunrises and the existence of oxygen- that my freakishly-good intuition turned out to be spot on the money. This morning, I heard about a study on Radio 4 that shows that levels of body-insecurity in youngsters is at an all-time high. The problem is becoming so acute, and is so continually reinforced by bullying that there are actual honest-to-goodness proposals to teach self-esteem classes in schools. Now, when you’re culture’s so openly hostile to difference that in order to counteract that poisonous influence you actually have to TEACH SELF-ESTEEM ON THE NATIONA CURRICULUM, then I think it’s time to take a good long look at society and think “you know what- some serious changes need to be made here.” A bill that outlawed any form of body-discrimination in the media and workplaces in the same way that race-discrimination is outlawed sounds like a good start.
Of course, the main reason I’m posting this is as evidence that, yes, I do normally turn out to be right on shit like this. Incidentally, while I’m pointing out how uncannilly prescient my political statements usually are (yet at the same time filled with pity for the upcoming generation), I’d like to point out that I also accurately predicted that austerity policies would fail to revitalise the British economy (The USA opted for more growth-oriented policies, and that economy is doing way better) and would fuck over a lot of people at the bottom of society (job losses, pay cuts, retirement package restrictions: all examples of how this shit hasn’t helped anybody); that privitasation of national industries would result in profit-driven companies cutting corners in areas to important to cut corners (not long after shouting this incoherently at the TV when I first heard the news about Tory privatisation plans, I found a news story that demonstrated just how right I was: it was about a PRIVATE care company that was shutting down many of its care homes and basically dumping their residents and staff onto the street); that climate change would start to fuck shit up in our life time if we didn’t do anything (a couple of islands are now on the verge of being submerged by rising sea-levels and… well, have you SEEN the weather lately). Incidentally, I also tried to tell people that voting Tory would bring them nothing but pain. Two years later I was listening to Tory voters complain about how the people THEY HAD VOTED FOR LIKE DUMBASSES were screwing up their lives.
I guess if this blog entry amounts to anything much, it’s my version of standing in the middle of the rubble after some kind of civilisation-destroying escherton, holding up a Loony-Toons style sign with the words “I told you so” printed on it, in large, bold letters. And you know what gets my right on my nerves? The fact despite my magnificent track-record of accurately predicting the blindingly obvious (‘cause let’s face, being able to see this stuff coming requires nothing more than barely-above-average pattern regontition skills), the next time I point out where a particular political decision will lead… I will be totally ignored. You’d think, by now, folks would have just learned to take my word for it. Now, in the grand scheme of things, it really doesn’t matter, since even if the people around me did listen when I pointed out what should be painstakingly obvious to anyone with eyeballs, I couldn’t effect the highest levels of government where these decisions are actually made anyway. But it would still be nice not to feel like every time I point out something out that, frankly, wouldn’t take anybody long to figure out on their own if they’d only be willing to look a little closer the data, I was having to smash my way through a brick wall of willfull ignorance.
Sorry for the downer, folks. Just wanted to get that off my chest.