I Wrote On The Guardian

Whenever I have an opinion, I tend to find it pretty embarrassing. Being wrong’s humiliating enough, but when you’re wrong about something you were dumb enough to frankly care about, it’s like pressing a heartshaped cookiecutter against your chest and making a noisy display of ripping yourself slightly open.

I’ve done it a couple of times on this blog, with religion. Can’t stand the thing, but I’d never tell my mum to stop believing her dad isn’t in Heaven, so there’s weak. I also seem to remember Twiggy got me frothy once by saying there’s no excuse to be fat. How can you say that, Twiggy? Have you not tasted how delicious food is? What are you supposed to do, just lick it?

Both times I was left slightly mortified by having a real thing that represented something I believed out there. If I were to imagine myself as a boss battle – and I do – then you’d have to plough your way through a six minutes Parodius level of self-deprecation and whimsy before reaching a glowing red chicken nugget of sincerity that you destroy with the whiff of disagreement.

So, when I was asked to write something for The Guardian’s comment section, I was kind of paralysed by my own unwillingness to be contradicted, so this is what I came out with.

Read it, and comment on it – make me look popular, please. Yeah, even you, freaky comments stalker who’s forced me to ban three IP addresses. And call that fourth-commenting cunt a retard who completely missed the point, yeah? As if the world needs more pricks gobbing off about what they reckon.

About Log

I'm so nice you just wanna eat me. I'm like a sexy wee marble you just wanna pop under your tongue. I'm like a tiny wren's egg you slide between your tits. I'm Pat Phoenix get the fuck out of my shop

5 thoughts on “I Wrote On The Guardian

  1. I saw this after SPYING on you in Facebook. I think we should have a log Q&A where wee ask you tough questions to find out your opinions on them. THE PUBLIC WANTS TO KNOW.

    I get annoyed with people who have “opinions” in the shouty kind of way. It means they’ve given up thinking, usually. Its kind of why die hard atheists annoy me as much as religious types, omnivores annoy me as much as vegetarians and whites annoy me as much as blacks. It seems to me that having an opinion is seen as a perfectly acceptable way of giving up thinking about a subject, one which the people involved have never thought deeply about themselves in the first place.

    It all seems like so many monkeys shrieking at each other whilst masturbating and doing a nazi salute.

    At least in my household.

  2. Ah, Log. An opinion piece about not having an opinion. That’s like a sphere of irony so massive that it’s going to form a black hole in space/time and all sincere opinions passing its event horizon will be sucked in and destroyed. Obviously, because it’s only an ironic black hole, they won’t really be destroyed though. I don’t know what will happen to them. You’d have to ask the Steven Hawking of postmodernism. According to Who’s Who, that’s actually Paul Daniels at the moment, but he’s scheduled to be replaced by the person who came fourth in last year’s X-Factor sometime in June.

  3. The only acceptable position to hold in the realm of opinion is this: to be one of the people standing behind the two-way mirror watching a focus group give *their* opinions. Having enjoyed access (just the once mind) to this privilieged realm, I can reveal that it involves drinking beer; eating a variety of snacks; commenting on the attire/attractiveness of the opinionisers; and laughing at the stupid things they say.

    It’s great.

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