I've stayed silent for long enough, but finally I've been driven from self-imposed exile of Bebo blogs to finally comment on something that has been bothering me for about a year.

You know those haircuts, the ones the indie people sport? Yeah, those ones with the cyclops effect where one eye is permanently blinded by the fringe. I was thinking perhaps the lovely indie kids should donate all of those unused eyes to people that could actually fucking use them. Every time I see one I just want walk over and pick axe them. Get a grip you sad people. For a sect of the species that goes on so much about individuality and being unique, they have a funny fucking way of showing it. Everyone dresses the same, shares their universal love of the Mighty Boosh, Russell Brand and the god-awful Ting Tings. Seriously, an insomniac pretty girl and her dad does not a band make. Plus their songs are the worst thing ever to happen to mankind. Canned cheese excepted.

Furthermore, stop studying things like art, media and politics. Nobody cares about your opinions on how to cure the credit crunch to start with, and we sure as shit don't want your ironic paintings, drawings and amateur videos that you make to support your arguments. Yes, I know George Bush is an idiot, but painting a picture of him as a monkey is hardly original, now is it? And stop fucking marching about cities everytime the G8 gets off its ass to meet. These eight countries hold the power to save or destroy the world. Do you think smashing up McDonalds in Stockholm will solve the serious problems of increasing population and diminishing food stocks. You'll just piss them off and wreck the Third World's chances of getting its debt written off. You baby killers!

I know these people mentioned above aren't strictly "indie" kids, but they probably are, and if they're not, they're exactly the kind of people these indie kids want to be. Yeah, that's it; they're either eco-warrior wannabes or they pretend, like the Kooks, that they're working class. Nobody's working class anymore! Britain doesn't have much of a working class. We have the rich folk, the people that can afford three holidays a year, the rest of us, the people who really can't get a job, the Poles and people who don't want a job. The minimum wage is such in this country that you can work as a street sweeper (the much maligned job of yesteryear) and still live a decent lifestyle. Working does not earn you the right to live like David Beckham. When did the line between a humble lifestyle and superstardom get blurred? Probably about the same time as these fucking judge shows started. Who are these judges? Who judged them before they got their smug asses on the telly? And who's judging them now?

Aye, so get a fucking haircut.

I'd like a provisional list of volunteers for my trip planned for the week off in April, so get in touch in any way you deem fit.

Cheers.

Well, after a long summer working with the proletariate, middle class and pseudo-upper classes of Houston in the venerable Co-operative Society food store, I can lay claim to having observed that most peculiar of all human traits; the inability to interact properly with other humans.

It seems, despite millennia of driving the species forward, achieving ever greater things, we still haven't mastered the most important task of all; macro-social interaction. Present people with a situation they are not in control of and they panic; dealing with strangers is a difficult task, seemingly. Perhaps the starkest example of this is when a customer asks staff for help; many people are actually reluctant to do this, and when given help, seem shocked and overjoyed by the successful result...

Customer, looking distressed, wanders aimlessly down the aisles until they find the courage to ask the ruggedly good looking chap stacking shelves...

Customer: "Um, hi, do you work here?"
Co-op staff: "Yes, how can I help you?"
Customer: "Oh great, great....I'm looking for some tomato purée"
Co-op staff: "It's just around here, let me show you"

...They find the elusive purée...

Customer: "Oh that's brilliant, amazing, thanks very much..."
Co-op staff: "...It's ok...
Customer: "...I've been up and down the aisles for 10 minutes looking for it, thank you so much, that's superb, cheers".
Co-op staff: "Um, aye, you're welcome..."

Had I replaced the word purée with "my baby", "my kidneys" or "my Extras Series One dvd", then, yes, we might have had call for the over the top reaction here. What really presses me is the use of the word "brilliant", a word defined as something outstanding. Perhaps the Roman system of bringing water from 59 miles away to the city of Rome using 12 aqueducts was something brilliant; Leonardo da Vinci's work can likewise be called so. Leading a customer 12 yards to find an everyday condiment they should never have missed in the first place is most certainly not. However, lest we think unease in interaction is only dealt with by hyper-friendliness, let us look at the other end of the spectrum...

Customer approaches the counter with goods for purchase...

Co-op staff: "Hi there, how's it going?"
Customer: *Incoherent grunt* or simply no response
Co-op staff: "Um ok, is that all for you?"
Customer: Whispers some positive noise, assumed to be "yes".
Co-op staff: "That's £2.76, please"

Customer pays for goods.

Co-op staff: "There you are, see you later"

Customer walks away without thanking or acknowledging the staff. Staff feels angry and says nothing to next customer. Chain reaction of rudeness begins...

Here, the staff member wasn't looking for an in-depth chat about their day, life or past. They simply wished to interact with the person they were serving; perhaps a self-served effort to brighten up their otherwise boring shift, but still a sincere attempt to interact. The customer was having none of it. Faced with a fellow human being they didn't know or trust, they simply put up the wall and banned the outsider from climbing it. Such behaviour is how people end up bitter and twisted in their old age.

Rudeness and hyper-friendliness have no age barriers; one may observe children throwing money and sweets down at you, while older people may be prepared to chat briefly. Likewise, some children may ask questions about you, whereas older people clearly wouldn't cross the road to jump on your face if it were on fire. The sad fact is, despite all government boastings about "community spirit", "multi-culturalism" etc, there is simply no basic trust in strangers, even those performing service.

The solution? Just try your best to be nice, without getting in the other person's face or avoiding their personality totally. I reserve the right not to follow this advice, however...

Colin