A Rapscallion’s Diary: November 2022
There is a certain type of person who I cannot stand: the snob. The type of person who thinks pantomimes are the lowest form of theatre, or that the literary novel with no plot is far superior to a page turner, or that a pub with a fruit machine and Sky Sports on TV is a lesser a place than a gastro pub with prices to match.
Of course I’m also a snob – and take delight in making mental lists of stuff I’m snobbish about.
People who think ‘travelling’ isn’t a long holiday are beneath contempt, anyone who dismisses Wales as a holiday destination, anyone who refuses to spend a fiver on a community raffle ticket as they don’t have cash – but live in a million pound house.
Yes, the list is long – and in an ideal world they would all be put in the stocks and pelted with rotting fruit or large rocks. Harsh, but justice would be done – if only for a few minutes.
Looking down on people is of course part of the humanoid condition – and I’m sure Neanderthal hunters must have looked down on their nouveau riche Neolithic neighbors and rolled their eyes when they stopped painting images in caves and began building stone circles and refusing to holiday in Wales.
There is clearly a Neanderthal gene in me.
Harry Mottram
For details for the work of the journalist Harry Mottram visit www.harrymottram.co.uk and follow him on FaceBook, Twitter as @HarryThe Spiv, Instagram, YouTube and God knows where else!
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