Rakst á skemmtilega grein í sjónvarpsblaði Guardian núna um helgina. Fyrir ykkur sem eruð löt að lesa birti ég smá útdrátt en alla greinina má finna hér.
Hérna fjallar Charlie Brooker á mjög hressandi hátt um heilsufasismann sem nú tröllríður öllu. Ég er nú eiginlega dálítið sammála honum...þetta er orðið býsna þreytandi.
"There's a continual background hum, a middle-class message of self-improvement, whispered on the wind.
"You eat too much. You eat the wrong things. You drink. You smoke. You don't get enough exercise. You probably can't even shit properly. You'll die if you don't change your ways. Your health will suffer. Have you got no self-respect? Look at you. You sicken me. I pity you. I hate you. We all hate you. God hates you. Don't you get it? It's so sad, what you're doing to yourself. It's just so bloody sad."
That's the mantra. And it goes without saying that the people reciting it are routinely depicted as saints. Last year, the media dropped to its knees to give Jamie Oliver a collective blowjob over his School Dinners series, in which he campaigned to get healthier food put on school menus. Given the back-slapping reaction, you'd be forgiven for thinking he'd personally rescued 5,000 children from the jaws of a slavering wolf.
...
What happened to the concept of CHOICE, you fuckers? So a bit of jogging might increase your life expectancy - so what? That just equates to a few more years in the nursing home - whoopee doo. And besides, I'd rather drop dead tomorrow than spend the rest of my life sharing a planet with a bunch of smug tossends trying to out-health one another."
Hérna fjallar Charlie Brooker á mjög hressandi hátt um heilsufasismann sem nú tröllríður öllu. Ég er nú eiginlega dálítið sammála honum...þetta er orðið býsna þreytandi.
"There's a continual background hum, a middle-class message of self-improvement, whispered on the wind.
"You eat too much. You eat the wrong things. You drink. You smoke. You don't get enough exercise. You probably can't even shit properly. You'll die if you don't change your ways. Your health will suffer. Have you got no self-respect? Look at you. You sicken me. I pity you. I hate you. We all hate you. God hates you. Don't you get it? It's so sad, what you're doing to yourself. It's just so bloody sad."
That's the mantra. And it goes without saying that the people reciting it are routinely depicted as saints. Last year, the media dropped to its knees to give Jamie Oliver a collective blowjob over his School Dinners series, in which he campaigned to get healthier food put on school menus. Given the back-slapping reaction, you'd be forgiven for thinking he'd personally rescued 5,000 children from the jaws of a slavering wolf.
...
What happened to the concept of CHOICE, you fuckers? So a bit of jogging might increase your life expectancy - so what? That just equates to a few more years in the nursing home - whoopee doo. And besides, I'd rather drop dead tomorrow than spend the rest of my life sharing a planet with a bunch of smug tossends trying to out-health one another."
2 Comments:
Jamm.
Þetta var góð færsla fyrir antisportistann í mér, en hann hef ég verið að reyna að drepa niður síðan heilsuæðið rann yfir hélt hann væri lærður en komst að því að hann er genetískur því minn næstyngsti er enn harðari antisportisti en ég án þess að vita hvað það er einusinni (pjúff löng setning)
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