Wednesday, 15 September 2010

Trade unions are going to investigate high pay in the private sector

No, this isn't a joke. Trade unions in the UK have agreed to work on a commission investigating high pay in the private sector. They are going to focus on the difference between the highest and lowest pay within FTSE 100 companies. Compass (the think tank) is involved as well. Good luck with that, comrades!

But this has put me in the mood now for investigating a whole load of shit I won't ever be able to change.


Why is the sea so wet? Not damp. It's soaking wet! We can dip our toes, just our toes, into the sea (astral or physical) and they will get all wet. Then - if we want - we can dip our toes into the sand. The sand will dry our toes, but it will stick to them. How can we stop the sand sticking to our toes? Why is life so unfair?

Why is the moon in the sky? Bear with me. It's a good question. Of course, it's not always there. It goes away, and it comes back. We can't see it in the daytime. Yes, we can! Although we can occasionally. I love to see the moon early in the morning. But why is it in the sky? Can't we bring it down to earth? Surely something can be arranged?

Why is the sun so hot? We all love the sun, don't we? But why is it so hot? I don't understand. If only we could cool it down a bit, we could ... well, what could we do? What could we achieve by lowering the temperature of the sun? And do we need to achieve anything, anyway? If we had the will, we could lower the sun's temperature just for the hell of it. Let them try and stop us! O Master, who? Them.

Why does the earth spin around? Don't you feel dizzy? I know I do. If we could stop the earth spinning around, we would be able to get off. The earth spins at 1,038 miles per hour! (At the equator.) I've investigated. Is there anything we can do about this? Are we just going to sit back and accept it? Enjoy the ride, as it were?

Mortality! 'One day we were born, one day we shall die, the same day, the same second, is that not enough for you? (Calmer.) They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more.' Well, what can be done about it? Who do we complain to? Someone must be brought to account. Have a word with God. Oh, I will. I'm not happy, you know.