There's this joke about the Daily Mail readers and perhaps it isn't true of all of them, but it seems from where I stand that it is indeed the case...There's these four people sitting at a table, a table full of biscuits. In fact, if you have a minute, this pile of biscuits is fucking huge! It's massive! It's got all the favourites in the pile, Bourbons, Custard Creams, Jafa Cakes, Pink waffers, Party rings, Chocolate Chip Cookies, fucking Shortbread... the lot! Plenty of biscuits for everyone!
Now the four people are a Politician, a teacher, a banker and a Daily Mail reader, and they are all fucking famished. Suddenly, the banker leaps forward and hammers into the biscuits! He's stuffing them down his throat and mashing them into crumbs and snorting the motherfuckers! He swallows and swallows and swallows and swallows until finally he sits back, his gut finally full.
Sitting in the middle of the table is one, single, solitary, lonely Party Ring. That's it. The rest is all fucking gone.
The Politician sits forward and taps the Daily Mail reader on the shoulder and whispers...
'That teachers after your biscuit...'
Sadly it's not just the teacher that is after that single biscuit, it's the council worker with two kids and a huge mortgage, it's the guy that's unemployed and on serious hard times and can't catch a fucking break and it's the cancer sufferer who has been given just a year to live but has been told by a group of bastards that she needs a job because she's 'fit to work'.
There were plenty of biscuits for everyone remember, it's just that we are told there weren't.
This feudal system we now try to survive in has seen the common people sent back to being serfs, there to potter and roll in the muck while the lords eat banquets and decorate their wives or husbands with silks.
It's no longer a joke... It's reality.
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