As corroborated by the recent protests on Wall Street, the Brylcreemed bull-shitter imitating a trader on BBC News and a bunch of men in suits who know infinitely more about almost everything than I do, our economy is on the verge of disrepair.
I’d love to tell you why this is but the truth is it’s quite complicated, quite boring and possibly way above my level of comprehension. It has something to do with a Yield Curve I think, and some FTSE, and possibly also Hedge Funds, although if your understanding of the economy is anything like mine then that sentence could have read ‘...something to do with the Moomins, Susan Boyle, and that time Verne ‘Mini Me’ Troyer made a porno,’ and maintained exactly the same level of overall coherence. Essentially, the problem boils down to money and there not being enough of it. I know this because I Googled it, which for now I will pretend is a verb. What Google won’t tell you, however, is the effect the fast-approaching economic apocalypse will have on our day-to-day lives.
Budget TV Will Become Even Shitter
Escapist industries tend to flourish during times of hardship due to the distraction they provide from the ceaseless disappointment and relentless anguish of everyday life. It works on the same principle as when you call in sick to work and find yourself engrossed in back-to-back episodes of Jeremy Kyle, because watching a self-righteous, cheap-suited twatspanner shout at people comprised almost entirely of hair gel and tracksuit makes you feel ever so slightly better about your own plight.
Deal or No Deal will be renamed Meal or No Meal; the aim of the game being for contestants to win enough food to avoid starving to death in front of millions of strangers whilst Noel Edmonds pretends to be their friend.
For this reason television will become increasingly more popular during the mega recession, whilst at the same time having a much smaller budget with which to entertain us. As a result, aspirational pseudo-reality shows, such as Made In Chelsea and The Only Way is Essex will no longer show the cognitively bereft shopping at Harrods, lunching at The Ivy and spending the GDP of a small nation on spray tans, but instead browsing the sale rail at TK Maxx, sharing starters from Nando’s and vajazzling each other with the aid of Pritt-Stick and balled up pieces of tin foil. Maybe even some googly eyes if finances will allow. Quiz shows will also suffer, their prizes reflecting the drastically lowered production values and the state of poverty inflicted upon the nation. As an example Deal or No Deal will be renamed Meal or No Meal; the aim of the game being for contestants to win enough food to avoid starving to death in front of millions of strangers whilst Noel Edmonds pretends to be their friend. Huge cutbacks will also be made affecting those who work in the industry. Writers will be hardest hit as TV execs realise that the Infinite Monkey Theorem doesn’t only apply to Shakespeare and that a small number of primates trapped in a room sharing one broken typewriter can, if given about three hours, write an entire series of Hollyoaks to a better standard than Channel Four’s current scribes for the cost of but a few bananas. Conversely, Ray Mears will make a fortune with a show that teaches people how to survive by building shelters from final notices, making haute cuisine from soil and turning the tears of the poor into palatable drinking water.
The Olympics Will Be An Embarrassment
Remember how the country celebrated after winning the right to host the Olympic Games? Me neither really, but I assume we did. This in itself seems a bit odd considering the ‘prize’ consisted of a logistical and organisational nightmare and the privilege of spending £3.3bn in order to put on a glorified sports day that doesn’t even include a sack race and endorses the wearing of Lycra onesies as a mandatory requirement. You’d think the money could have been put to better use, really – perhaps feeding and clothing the homeless, or funding a trading standards lawsuit against Lee Nelson’s Well Good Show, or buying Ed Millibland a charisma upgrade. At the risk of thinking too far out of the box, we might even have used it to pay off a little of our obscene national debt.
Regardless, if the mega recession hits before the games start then Danny Boyle’s much anticipated opening ceremony – an extravaganza which in my mind features high-wire performers dressed as Queen Elizabeth, live music from Paul McCartney so millions can watch his transformation into Droopy in real-time, and Kriss Akabusi lighting a fart with the Olympic torch – will ultimately just feature the Slumdog Millionaire director writing his name with a sparkler and looking a bit sheepish. Still, probably fractionally more entertaining than the at least 50% of the 26 sports the games have planned.
We'll All Become Mutants...
As Cameron’s money-saving plans to dismantle the NHS are given the green light, almost everyone will find themselves unable to afford basic healthcare. The results of this will be terrifying, not only because millions will die of minor afflictions but also because there will be an abundance of extremely bored doctors and surgeons. I don’t think I need to spell out for you the danger listless scalpel jockeys pose, but it’s seems it’s only a matter of time before the horror of the Human Centipede becomes a reality. Thankfully, shortly after the last general election Nick Clegg found himself with his mouth comfortably positioned against the PM’s rear end, so now all we need is a third subject. Expect a large number of surgically enhanced humans to be a part of the populous by 2020.
Your existence will perpetually mimic that uncomfortable feeling at the end of a three day music festival, but without the recent memories of having had a really good time.
... And We'll Have To Live In Tents
Those of you who quite like your houses might want to look away for this bit, because the chances are they’re probably not going to be yours for much longer. The bright side? Well, there isn’t one, unless you really happen to like camping. And I’m not talking about the weekend-by-the-campfire, please-don’t-make-me-sleep-in-Akela’s-tent camping of childhoods yore. I’m talking about living in a tent, forever. This may sound far-fetched but the truth is it’s already happened. There are currently thousands of well educated, once gainfully employed adults forced to live in ‘tent cities’ across the U.S. after the recession took their jobs, seized their houses and molested their children. Although obviously not the last bit, because that’s not only in bad taste but also conceptually impossible. Regardless, Imagine trading your job, car, and abode for an environment where electricity and running water are just fond memories, wildlife keeps trying to steal your food and every single one of your neighbours can hear you having sex. Your existence will perpetually mimic that uncomfortable feeling at the end of a three day music festival, but without the recent memories of having had a really good time. Essentially then, you’re just left with the sensation of really, really craving a comfortable poo. Forever. Stupid recession.
We'll All End Up Wearing Leather and Living In A Mad Max Dystopia
We’re no stranger to civil unrest in this country, but the recent riots in London will look like a tickle fight compared with what’s to come. I’ve been led to believe, mostly by my imagination, that as times reach their hardest we’ll be living in a lawless wasteland; a Mad Max-style dystopia where we’ll find ourselves wearing an impossible amount of leather and fighting to the death over the last Freddo bar in order to provide sustenance for our grubby-cheeked, malnourished offspring. Just like Mel Gibson may have done in the film I just referenced but can remember very little about. The birth of this new world will commence with a period of civil unrest, a coup if you will, where a couple of hundred people with well thought out political motivations, a detailed manifesto and some really nice placards featuring some lovely penmanship will be overshadowed by hundreds of thousands of people smashing the windows of JD Sports and firing up the grills in Wimpy...again. This conflagration will lead to the implementation of a police state followed by a class war and finally a free-for-all as the very structure of our society crumbles before our eyes. Sky News will provide coverage of the ensuing chaos which will fall slightly short of real journalism but will have enough bright colours and flashing images to keep the one man who can still afford a television entranced. Before long there will be no government, no public services, no laws and no hope for redemption.
Either that or everything will be fine. It’s probably a bit early to rush to judgment.
Other stories you might like…
Click here for more stories about Life
Click here to follow Sabotage Times on Twitter
Click here to follow Sabotage Times on Facebook