The last few weeks it's felt like Punk, when the bloated private-jet supergroups suddenly looked preposterous, irrelevant and surplus to requirements. Overnight. It was a collective conciousness mindshift, and for a time it was inescapable.
Has the same thing happened with government, politics and the establishment? Jeremy Corbyn's mere existence has shone some kind of bullshit-detector spotlight on the whole shebang, and the bullshitters are running scared. Boris Johnson's tweet reprimanding "Jezzer" for not supporting the rugger, epitomised the pompous privileged gin gan goolee twit mentality that has entrenched itself at the heart of UK culture.
These pampered buffoons with their little elitist clubs and rituals. The old school tie, the Paxman conspiratol Etonian jocular wink, the BBC old guard loveable home counties Downton Abbey-watching, Alistair Armstrong sings Edward Elgar, last night of the proms flag waving dullards.
They're bombarding us with history shows, regal pageantry and gripping intrigues in the court of the king. Such entertainment from the monarchy surely justifies a life of drudgery and poverty for the rest of us eh?
Corrupt expense abusing freeloading gentlemen's club members, knighthoods all round. The game's up boys, Sleaford Mods are packing 'em in. Be afraid you parasites.
