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25th November 2009 > And so it seems that the festive season is fast upon us. Walking past some gaudy shop front today, the windows’ bright white infantile scrawl informed me that there were just thirty two shopping days left til Christmas.

Thirty two days of rabid consumerism.
Thirty two days of vendors eyeing us up like mutts at t-bone steaks.
Thirty two days of lying to children about some ruddy faced intruder breaking into their homes to leave garish trinkets beneath a prickly bush or green plastic replica.

But misanthropic diatribe aside, I welcome the birthday of the big baby Jesus and all the gestures of giving and goodwill that he brings.

Which is why I would like to take this opportunity to thank all the Viewer fans and devotees who have been in touch via the information highway in the past few days to ask “AB – what is that you would like Santa to bring you for Christmas?”

Well... too numerous are the emails to respond to on an individual basis, that I would like to take this opportunity to address you one and all.

What I crave, what I yearn and long for above all other things is a benevolent dictator.

“A benevolent dictator? “ You ask

“Yes... A benevolent dictator.” I reply

Imagine waking up on a crisp December 25th and huddling around the television to learn news that whilst you were tucked up in bed awaiting the advent of Yuletide, a big fuck off coup had occurred and our ambling, sycophantic, melee of a government had been ousted by someone with a little bit of nous and vision.

Someone with no interest in pandering to the press or appeasing the mob.
Someone with logic and guile and the ability to effect change.
A lady, a gentleman, or perhaps someone of indeterminable gender, who doesn’t care for these faceless suits with their toothpaste grins and public school boy ties.

I know what you’re thinking. What about democracy AB? Surely this is the cornerstone of society.

Perhaps you’re right.

Perhaps I’m drunk.

But it strikes me that there more people interested in voting someone out of a jungle than there are choosing between which cretinous imbersiles will get to guide us through another 4 years of abject misery.

All of which brings me to my original point... which I have forgot.

God bless you all.

And remember there are now only thirty one shopping days left til Christmas.

 

10th November 2009 > Monday morning rolled around too soon and I’m slap bang in the middle of Tuesday’s daily grind. Recollections of a lost weekend are scant and vague, doused in cheap gin and ale. I sport the scars of an overenthusiastic dance move on a slippery club floor. I am bored and worth so much more.

Where was the fame I was destined?
Where are my trinkets and things?
When will I be paid for my god-given talent, my wit, wisdom and devilishly good looks?

A saccharine tune slops out the speaker of a tinny FM radio. This caterwauling banshee from some talent show or other wails her away through yet another cover, ripping the soul out a half decent song… all the way to Number One.

Ker Ching
Ker Ching
Ker Ching

All the while, I sit and hammer at keys. Office based Automaton. Slave to a derisory wage. Waiting for the day when the world sits up and listens, when “Viewer” is mot du jour and mouthed on peoples’ lips. When we get those breaks, crash the air and WHITE NOISE goes:

Gold.
Platinum.
Multi Platinum.

Right now I would settle for pewter.

Until then I persevere, waiting for the dying embers of Friday afternoon… and another lost weekend.