Don’t won’t can’t shan’t

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I was brought up to believe that, except in admirable or exceptional circumstances, there is no such word as ‘can’t’….or ‘won’t’…..or ‘shan’t’……or ‘don’t’. Seems things have changed.

I’m starting to notice the diva behaviour, once confined to popstars, film stars and sportsmen (oh the irony), breaching the mainstream and pervading the norm. What was once deemed ridiculous in a request, refusal or expectation from the rich and famous is now regarded as standard amongst the normal folk, particularly the young.

“I don’t do……”.   I don’t do? WTF? I don’t do…. washing up, public transport, high street fashion, cooking, cleaning….caring. How cool you are. A life lived in restricted, fierce denial of experience, opportunity and betterment is surely something to aspire to. I went through a short period of not liking school P.E. – my friend and I hid in the linen cupboard. After two days of an hour or so in the closet each afternoon, so noone noticed us skiving, I realised that this was the most mindless activity I had ever been talked into. Doing is being and being is living.

“I must have…”  The ‘must-have’. We’ve all encountered it; the coveted item or experience. I had many ‘must-haves’ when I was growing up, the difference then was that my parents had an equal number of responses akin to, ‘ok, well, when you’re 18 and running your own life – sure you can buy/do that’ Even amongst the most stalwart and bolshy, patience wears thin after a few months, interests change and suddenly your life really hasn’t finished since you didn’t get the latest “…..” on a plate. In fact, with good old hindsight triumphing over advertising power and peer pressure, you realise that it’s crap anyway.

“I can’t…”. Unless this statement ends with, “..actually move mountains”, “..believe it”, or, is followed by, “….possibly…”, it is simply a lie and a copout.

“I shan’t..”…. wear this, attend that, be nice, join in, play fair, smile……live. Don’t then.

“Rate me”. Really? Vanity has now reached new lows – the uploading of a daily picture, “selfy” if you please, to be drooled and/or ridiculed over, inducing great arrogance or deep self-loathing. A whole generation seems to have wasted the majority of their precious lives, sitting in their rooms for hours on end dolling themselves up, stroking their hair, and holding a camera phone up to themselves looking in the mirror. Yawn. Didn’t we do the whole, looking in the lake and seeing our reflection for the first time, like, milennia ago?! This supports my reasoning behind the clear backward trajectory humankind is taking on the evolutionary scale, but that’s for another day.

..and, of course, my personal favourite; the accidentally released sex/naked/dirty picture/video for a bit of attention. Jeez guys, these pictures will literally be available forever. The only people who care are folk who love a bit of salacious back-slagging, and it really is a, ‘can’t go back’ scenario. No more mystery. Oh and by the way, I defer to your astounding ability to do the two things that everyone on the planet (I believe) can do too. Get naked and copulate. If we’re still revering this basic instinct, then I’m long overdue annual tribute parties to each of my digits in turn. The first theme is thumbtuous – a lavish celebration of my right thumb’s exceptional skills and in particular recognition of it’s advanced double-jointedness. Champagne all round!

I dunno, maybe I’m out of date, out of touch… a prude? Hmm, I reckon if that’s the case then prudish is definitely the new cool, and I can wholly recommend it. You see, indulging in whatever you like is fine, it’s just the expectation that everyone else will wait on you whilst you spend their money on stuff to make you look hot in order to fare well when the dodgy photo scandal breaks.

I don’t know, won’t care, can’t look and shan’t be joining in this time.

                           I reckon, if you do the dirty work your soul stays clean

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