There is an orang utan in New York demanding a paternity test to prove that he is not trump’s dad.
And on the subject of buffoons see that boris de pfeffel’s stock has plummeted since the election. Apparently new tts viewing and hearing him up close realise what he’s really like. He’s been a disastrous mayor, Londoners now and in the future will suffer from his tenure. He is currently supposed to be mayor of a rather large city, a member of parliament for Uxbridge (get your bets on quick that he won’t be their mp after the next election), a newspaper columnist and writer of ill-reviewed books. And like trumpton he’s got a stupid barnet, but then so have I at the moment.
I was going to write that mr de pfeffel proves the old Peter Principle, but people should have recognised his incompetence a long while ago, last time he was in parliament howard sacked him for lying. And don’t go claiming he’s a good quiz show host, he’s shit.
Pension evaluation still at 40%.
Anyway I was at a ‘Discovery Day’ at Bournemouth University last Friday and it was all about how exercise in all it’s forms (except sex was never mentioned!) is beneficial in helping recovery and preventing recurrence. Now soon after sitting down in the lecture theatre I began to feel anxious, probably being surrounded by reminders of cancer. Anyway it popped into my head that because I’d had/got cancer (not sure about what my current status actually is, must ask at next clinic) that I’d had my turn and the chances of getting another cancer are reduced. So imagine my disappointment when a doctor went through a load of crabby statistics and that having had cancer increases the chances of another, bollocks.
Anyway, there were probably more people there who were either ‘experts’ or exercise related folk than actual crabby critters like me. Big business this cancer thing. But it was good with loads of people, organisations and companies offering their wares, all of it free or discounted, to help us get exercising. There were groups showing off what they’d done or were doing: a ladies ‘pink champagne’ dragon boat team, a community choir and a belly dancer. All inspiring others, which of course is good, but………..
Here you go again Duncan, being all negative, knocking others who are only trying to do their bit to help. But there is always this bit of me that rebels, that wants to understand more. Now arriving at the venue everyone was immediately met by the quite large choir belting out their songs, brought a smile to people’s faces. And yet, later as the last person got up to give their talk at the end of the first session so did the choir who en masse left the lecture hall, went just outside and began belting out more songs which could be clearly heard in the lecture hall. Not only was this somewhat disrespectful to the person talking it showed what I describe as some sort of proselytising solipsism. Great they’re all getting off on their community singing fuelled by their communal crabby experiences but it did create the impression of a certain group smugness. Maybe I was just envious about not being part of the gang.
But there is something about being told, or even gently cajoled, to do something that many of us automatically react against. Reading Oliver Burkeman (thanks Mike, actually holding a magazine to read) about this where: “Anything…can be made dispiriting when turned into an obligation”. he began the piece by writing about a study which apparently showed that having more sex made people unhappier. No, what the study really showed was that being told to have more sex (and filling out poxy forms) made people unhappier!
What is missing, and was missing at the ‘Living Well’ day, was this exploration of us needing a sense of autonomy, to make the decisions ourselves, to properly invest in something that requires dedication and motivation. All us crabby ones have been through a pretty unpleasant experience, often involving having lots of unpleasant things done to us, all sense of autonomy absent. Post-treatment we need to regain some sense of self, to regain some autonomy. So we know that exercise will be good for us, but don’t simply tell us; for people like me that simply reinforces my pathetic attempts to indulge myself in “self-defeating activities merely to obtain that sense of autonomy”. As ever, things are not obvious or simple. The clinical psychologist though did say we should shift balance from things we have/should do to things that improve, give joy, hope etc. Bit like voting for Mr Jeremy.
There was only one black person at the day, Wessex is very white.
There was a poster on the stage of a woman dancing who was obviously happy and very sweaty. The tag was: “sweating like a pig, feeling like a fox”. Now I’m a little sad that pigs get such a bad press and in this instance that they don’t actually sweat much, they have only a few ineffective sweat glands. That’s why they will wallow in mud to cool down. And why are foxes associated with being sexy? And just females feeling sexy?
Lot of sex in this blog, wonder if that will get it more attention?
Thanks angry young man for comment, never mind about Jeremy’s politics at least he is honest. Hope he is elected and goes on to challenge those very smug tts.
Steve Bell had de pfeffel’s number years ago:
Keep on keeping on, love Duncan