There have been a number of things in recent memory that have prompted me to come and do a bit of scribbling - unsuccessfully, obviously, as this much-neglected blog serves to show. Mostly, it's because I thought I had a really good point about some minor node of popular culture, but before I've managed to put mental pen to mental paper to actual fingers to actual keyboard, someone in the Guardian has made that point and several more, and funnier, related points to boot. But there's been some other stuff as well, like:
Stupid bloody idiot parents who would rather believe the Daily Mail than the whole of recognised science and, as a consequence, give their children entirely preventable manky diseases. I myself have been a victim of the lack of immunisation of measles, oh yes. At aged 14 or so, in a move that gave me my first tantalising glimpse of how it feels to make actual grown-up decisions which actually effect your actual daily life (my experience of decision-making up to this point being mainly along the lines of "Daddy or chips?" Ah, the carefree life of a fat-arsed child of divorce), I boldly announced to myself in my head that I would not entertain the notion of having the routine measles jab that was forced on everyone in my year. Nay!, I reasoned, if everyone around me was immunised against the disease, what chance would I have of contracting it? And plus, this would mean I would avoid the humiliation of crying like a tiny whinging hairy child in front of everyone as the uber-sharp piece of metal ripped through my flesh and filled me with poisons. A flawless plan, I thought.
Alas, merely two years later, as I was flailing wildly about in a Sea Life Centre in an attempt to distract children from eating sea anemones straight out of the tanks and earn myself some good, honest coin of the realm at the same time, I got The Measles. I can only assume some benighted wretch of a child must have infected me by coughing their sputum directly into my face, which was usually a twice-daily occurrence. But here's the worst thing about The Measles. For two weeks, you feel terrible and horrible and all the other -bles in between, like the worst flu of your life, you ache everywhere, you're delirious, you can't eat, sleep, or even take the smallest amount of pleasure from the fact that you're legitimately missing school and able to watch This Morning all the way through. Then, one morning, you wake up and suddenly you feel fantastic - ready to face the world, hungry for action, wanting to paint the town red, sing from the rooftops, everything. And then, and only then, my friends, is when you get the horrendous disfiguring rash all over your face and body, damning you to another week of house arrest, even though you feel absolutely flaming fine.
So the measles is evils. That's my point. Don't make your child go through it. Run them through with all the needles you can find as soon as humanly possible. Childcare advice for damn free right here! Woot!