Every sensible person knows the ‘culture wars’ are a contrivance being played out by a tiny number of angry idiots who have been duped by a failing government and their media sponsors into believing that men and women being allowed to piss in the same public convenience presents an existential threat to humankind.
It’s all a scam, like a man at a trestle table asking you to guess which paper cup the ball is under. Only carried out with even less guile. It’s rage fuel for idiots. There is no woke conspiracy or new liberal elite. There are just human beings trying to get along and survive in increasingly difficult conditions.
The Tory government has made this country poorer, unhappier, less productive and more divided over their 13 years in power. UK inequality is among the worst in the developed world. Our average life expectancy is in decline. By every measure, the final 13 years of Queen Elizabeth’s life were overseen by the worst series of governments to ever serve her.
Bleak stuff, right? What a boring, middle-aged, unpatriotic, cliched dad I am. Yep, I am all of those things. Sue me. It was difficult for me to catch glimpses of the coronation (I tried my best to avoid it, but it was as insidious as it was ludicrous) without becoming angry, outspoken and – yes – boring.
“Dad, it’s not that deep, it’s just a party,” said my 15-year-old daughter as I ranted at her about the gold carriages, preposterous ceremony and fetishised news reporting that surrounded it.
“It’s a party that cost us £250 million quid when there are kids surviving off food banks!” I said.