Gobblers Extinction.

Whilst digging the mousepatch I listened to Joe Whiley reminiscing over her wonderful social life at Radio 1’s Bangor weekend. I came in for lunch and watched the Gilmore Girls. Neither was my choice. As a result I’m more convinced than ever the human race has a fatal flaw that will cause our downfall. Talking. It’s that strange thing we do that sounds like turkeys gobbling, and may in fact fulfil the same purpose. The Gilmore’s gobble incessantly inching along some flimsy strand of consciousness; in fact inching is an overstatement, it’s more like millimetering, with no hint of any negative emotional consequence. They live in the nicest of nice worlds as does Joe Whiley. Somewhere along the line it has been decided that one should have a wonderfully good time all of the time. I’m not a fan of Eastenders but at least the get hacked off and kill each other from time to time. No, talking will get us into trouble. For one it’s mostly just gobble but more importantly it’s the method by which we blot out reality. Why open a can of worms by saying you’re pissed off when it’s so much easier to say I’m fine. Why say “you make me sick always thinking you’re right, piss off” when ‘have a nice day’ comes so much easier. No, when the time comes, when a giant asteroid is hurtling towards the earth moments away from causing total devastation it’s likely Joe will be using her last moments of air time telling us how great ‘Florence and the Machine’ were when she met them backstage, and the Gilmore’s will be gobbling about beverages, and you and I will still be moaning about the smoking ban. Only one in a thousand of us will be alert enough to shout, “duck!” but it will all be too late.