Tuesday, 16 February 2010

Pop Tarts

It's odd. The folk I work with don't feel the need to award each other gifts and trophies every other month. Nor do they have the urge to tell everyone how wonderful they and their co-workers are.

I suspect this is because they live on Planet Earth and not Planet Showbiz.

Once again the Luvvys are having a little get together to pat themselves on the back and hand out little medals. The meeja will no doubt inform the unwashed masses how much Lady GooGoo's dress cost and how P Doddy is the second coming.

Don't get me wrong here. I love music (think Pink Floyd) But these little showbiz dick-sucking get togethers leave me unimpressed. The sight of a gushing Arteest clutching a plastic trophy as they thank their Mother and their spiritual guides leaves me quite unmoved.

There are another group of young people also earning some medals right now. They wont stagger around giggling as their fragile ego's are caressed by sycophants. They will simply pick up their kit and crack on. It's what Soldiers do.

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