Now you would imagine that the world cycling championships for women would be a somber genteel affair, brought to you by Kellogs Branflakes and sponsored by Halfords.
But no. The British team was represented by women aged some where between 21-29 with the gorgeous Victoria Pendleton leading the charge. Now I’m sure I saw Miss Pendleton on the front cover of Zoo wearing an unzipped leather bikers jacket and very little else. Now you can surely argue that maybe the british cycling team were perhaps chosen for their television appeal rather than their ability or maybe I’m wrong.
Back in the old days (yes I’m going there), there were no photographs in the newspapers, so people were allowed to be fat and ugly. Alexander Bell, the great inventor, was a national hero because no one knew he had the face of a baboon. Isambard Kingdom Brunel achieved great success because the great British public had no clue he was a midget.
Back then, skill and intelligence were what you needed to get on. However, with the zoom lens, the tabloids and online social media, neither thing matters a great deal.
We have entered a whole new world, where, to get on, it’s not what you know or who you know, or even what you know about who you know. In today’s society it is all about what you look like. Take David Beckham for example, now I love Becks, the guy is a national treasure, sure he could bend his balls a bit but he was far from being Britain’s best footballer. But he became a global icon because he’s a rather handsome fellow.
Then you have David Cameron, he became the leader of the Conservative Party simply because he is better looking than the smarmy George Osborne or the sleazy Oliver Letwin. What’s more, he will win a second term as Prime Minister because he has more sex appeal than Ed “thunderbird” Milliband. The Labour Party have definitely missed a trick by appointing the wrong brother, not only on an intellectual level but also in the looks department.
Maybe that’s what is missing from politics, to bring it to the forefront of peoples minds. After all, we have a culture secretary, a home secretary and a foreign secretary, maybe we need a hair & beauty secretary who will pose in Vogue and Cosmo every few weeks?
Then there’s Mark Wright and Lauren Gooder. Who? I hear you ask. Well they are from the reality TV world of The Only Way is Essex. Only the other week, their on-off made for tv relationship managed to knock the North Korean Leader Kim Yong’s death off the front pages. Now here was a world defining moment taking place and yet all I could see in the news was a sea of orange & collagen lips.
I understand all of this. Looks count, they really do. After all, you wouldn’t deliberately buy an ugly sofa or an ugly car would you? I know I’d much rather watch my new crush, Natasha Kaplinksy, reading out news on the euro zone crisis than the 10ft tall man giant that is Mark Austin.
I even have a so-called friend who’s an Estate Agent, and his office is staffed by a young blonde woman. When asked why, he said with a grin “it’s all about the totty, and she cost the same as an ugly one”. Aside from him being a complete perv, I understood that too.
There is, however an enormous drawback to all of this. You see Ben Affleck and Megan Fox may look good in a Cape and leather mini skirt, but where would we have been 30 years ago if the only qualifications needed for Hollywood superstardom were perfect teeth and big biceps? Without Dustin Hoffman and his big nose playing Rain Man thats where. And certainly without Anthony Hopkins and Jodie Foster in Silence of the Lambs. If the movie were made today, we’d probably get Justin Timberlake feasting on Kim Kardashian’s big butt with a bottle of Crystal.
However, in the not too distant future, I can see a backlash coming. It used to be the case that a person’s social standing caused jealousy and bitterness. You would wonder why the idiotic fourth son of the Duke of a cabbage patch could have caviar for dinner whilst his bright manservant had to make to with a cup of air.
Well how long will it be before the normal folk who don’t grace the cover of Heat weekly start to wonder how on earth the cast of Made In Chelsea are all millionaires and why their television screens are full of orange Gavin Henson wannabes?
How long will it be before they notice that their own children, who have an IQ of 159 with a first in Latin, can’t get a job in Starbucks?
How long will it be before your daughter comes back from university with a £40,000 student debt, declares that she has mastered the art of the ‘slut drop’ instead of the stock market and financial derivatives, and now wants to go to a 36GG bust size so she can be the star of ‘Made In Doncaster’.
My fellow British citizens, I urge you stand up and rebel against these so-called beautiful people, if not for your children then at least do it for me. Please, save me from the word “reem” and having to take the starring role in ‘The Only Way Is Wolverhampton’ where I will be forced into sharing a hot tub with Lenny Henry.
Thanks for reading.
Peace Love Happiness
