I Couldn't Care Less: That's Life

2 Conversations

A hypodermic needle and a vial

That's Life

Last week I was faced with something of a moral dilemma. Our esteemed editor mentioned to me in passing (while bullying me viciously for my column, like it was overdue or something1) that the upcoming issue was going to screen on the 1st of April. Had I considered an April Fool in my column? I said nothing. I submitted my entry, still saying nothing. What I had submitted was, truth or fiction, known only to me. For all I know, nobody has read it and it still is. I mean, DG has run it past the lawyers, obviously, but if they see nothing to frighten them they usually skim.


So my moral dilemma, essentially, was this: Did I put in an April Fool or not? it would be a bit of harmless fun and nice to join in, but then I theoretically profess to be a voice of solace, wisdom and something or other for my people, could I let them down with a trivial piece of nonsense when there was work to be done?


Other people, meanwhile, where not suffering from such moral dilemmas on the first of the month. In the UK, our merry Government rolled out their changes to the welfare system, which, depending on who you asked, made people generally better off (the Government) or worse off (The Office for National Statistics, and most other people). Claim and counter claim were bandied around and the Secretary for Work and Pensions, one Iain Duncan Smith, claimed he could live on £53 a week 'if I had to'. He doesn't have to.


I started to do the maths. I asked around on twitter for suggestions for his theoretical shopping list. The h2g2 Editors suggested a bottle of white lightning, which is frighteningly cheap...alcoholic... stuff. I don't know what it is, but the Eds have been having a few casual drinks 'in the line of duty' recently. Anyway, I haven't got very far and the food you could manage reasonably cheaply if you were happy to have a dull, samey and depressing 'value' diet, which is fine assuming 'value' equates to 'good' which, of course, it doesn't. Anyway I haven't got as far as a phone line yet, I'm assuming TV is out as a needless luxury so that just leaves heating, lighting and water to burn most of your money on. I very much doubt you could survive on £53 a week, but if you did, you'd be bored, poorly fed and miserable.


This ties in to a seemingly unrelated observation I'd made a number of years ago while watching the film Predator. At the end of the film our hero has seen all his friends brutally slaughtered and is the sole survivor. It was then that it occurred to me that we are culturally encouraged to think of this as a good result. Often in action films there has been death, destruction and general horror, the hero himself (or even herself, you never know) has been severely wounded in the final battle, but is, thank god, alive.


And this is Duncan Smith's problem. It would be okay to live on £53 a week for a week. It might even be fun. A bit of an adventure, like camping. Week 2? It would start to pall. Week 3? Getting very dull. Week 52? Well, I'm not going to finish that thought, but 'fun' is not the word. Misery might be. You'd be alive, but not much else. Not much of a life. You'd have control of your own bodily functions, sure, but you'd have control of precious little else. The idea, of course, is to encourage people back to work. This is fine unless: a) you are unable to work; or b) there is no work. A lot of people, stuck in these categories, have been condemned to live on £53 a week until their health or their luck changes. And if all your Government can unequivocally guarantee is that they will keep you biologically ticking over, then they should pack their bags and walk into the sea. In a society where we all get together to work for our mutual benefit, everybody's lot should, no, must be better than that.


Oh, and last week's piece? Yeah alright, I lied. But the principle was true.

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