sale away
big
bang
tail
lights
moving
constellations
nothing
so fashionable
pleasant
children
please
constable
what,
no tea?
day
of hope
sale
away
Seasonally
picking over the Christmas carcass, I wandered into town one
afternoon in search of any juicy scraps. It seemed like a good way of
keeping
warm for a couple of hours at someone else's expense. The media was full
of
stories about the ensuing price war between major retailers in the hope
that if
we could be encouraged to spend enough it might avert the impending recession.
Everything was the same price it had been a week before Christmas, but
now
there were 'sale' signs everywhere. Nobody either noticed or cared that
a month
before Christmas everything had been cheaper by approximately the same
margin
that it was now being reduced. I was reminded of a character in 1984 celebrating
the increase in chocolate rations, oblivious to the fact they were actually
being
reduced. When I first read that book as a young adolescent I couldn't
quite
believe people were so stupid. Sadly, it appears they are.
In their eagerness to be conned they came in sufficient numbers to reduce
the town's roads to absolute grid lock. Buses were stuck half way across
the
four lane ring road, fire engines were screaming blue murder in the hope
that
somebody might get out of their way. It was four o'clock in the afternoon
and
still they kept coming, wave after wave. The poor bloody infantry did
their patriotic
duty. Gritting their teeth, hunting down bargains, blazing forth by all
accounts glowing
red. Fighting a rear guard action to consolidate their position, throwing
everything
they've got into defending this once proud Imperial power. Shit or bust.
One last big push for Christmas. Bugger the consequences.
Rule Britannia, long may it rain on us. Rally round the flag and three
cheers for
that emergent service conglomerate, UK Ltd. Britain used to be a great
maritime nation.
How ironic that it's new populace of shoppers now only cares about sales.