It's not necessarily the Scotland thing that gets my proverbial goat, it's the whole thing in general.
Mania. The British appear to be useless at most things, but getting all worked up over nothing isn't one of them. A few people bothered to vote in the should-London-have-a-mayor referendum. Most people didn't have an opinion, and the few that did were hardly ranting about it. Take any election, and if one in three people can be arsed to trek to their local voting centre, you're doing pretty damn well. Apathy is another thing we're excellent at. Show any major event - any catastrophe - floods, famines, plane crashes, wars and politics, and at most it will lead to polite coffee-time discussion and a few column inches on page 7 of the Evening Standard.
Come anything trivial, however, and suddenly life as we know it is collapsing all around us. Take the death of Diana, Princess of MS Windows (looks good, uses up loads of resources and crashes spectacularly) as a very good example. She was a reasonably attractive, vaguely interesting television personality. File under Ulrika Jonsson. She dies, and suddenly It's A Great Big Bloody Conspiracy. Life as we know it on Planet Earth has spontaneously ceased to exist. You're more upset for the loss of an expendible, fairly vaccuous person you've never bloody met than for the loss of your own granny. [actually, I was, but then granny and I never saw eye to eye...]
Then a British nanny goes to America and maybe/maybe not murders a toddler and OH NO! WHERE IS JUSTICE ON PLANET EARTH! Get over it, already. Who gives a flying one - murder happens and as long as it doesn't happen to me or anyone I know, I can deal with that fact. You don't know her. You don't know the victim. Deal with it.
So, in this background of preposterous posturing, emotional correctness and mob mentality, fuelled by a tabloid press desperate to increase their falling readership by lobotomising them with foul, poisonous editorials - now it's the World Cup.
Big bloody deal. Music for me is beyond obsession - comparable only to that of a footie fan's devotion to the Big Game, but do you see me getting this excited when Glastonbury comes around? No you bloody do not. It's a festival, a bit of fun and if I miss it, my life isn't over.
When Glastonbury comes around, a few papers will enclose a four-page pullout with information on it, but all television coverage isn't suspended because of it. The Sun doesn't splash the headlines with the startling revelation that if you add up the number of times the Chili Peppers have played the festival, then you get the odds of them headlining again next year.
The whole bloody world's gone loopy! In the old days [apparently] people kept a stiff upper lip and did National Service. Now they mope around weeping shamelessly because poor old Beckham's grazed his shin. Bless him.
I have nothing against football. If it's on, I'll watch it, and if I watch it, I'll enjoy it. But it's just a game. That's all it is. A game.
I can understand people wanting to pay to see games or buy merchandise, but this really is getting silly. It's not healthy to devote such attention to the unimportant things in life whilst ignoring the important.
So the next time I hear a three hour discussion over whether Gareth Southgate should EVER be allowed near a penalty again, I want to hear it followed by a six hour discussion over the fate of the Buddhist population in Tibet at the hands of the Chinese Government.
Perspective.
Thanks
j