“God Save the Ordinary Bloke”
One Working-Class Guy’s Rant About Cancel Culture, Green Hypocrisy, Tribal Politics, and Why We’re All Just Trying to Pay the Bills
I’m just a regular, working-class bloke from a halfway-forgotten town somewhere in the UK. You know the type of place: boarded-up high streets, one dodgy nightclub that claims to be “world-class,” and a local café that thinks slapping a bit of parsley on a bacon butty makes it haute cuisine. I’m not looking to transform into the next social media messiah. I’m not big on grand ideologies or trending hashtags. I just want to get through the day without losing the plot—and maybe enjoy a pint if my budget stretches that far.
But apparently, that humble dream is too ambitious these days. Because modern life is like walking through a field of hidden landmines, each labeled “Woke,” “Cancel Culture,” “Misogynist!” or “Planet-Killer!”—with a few more exclamation marks for good measure. Forget stepping on them; sometimes I feel like the entire field’s been rigged to explode just because I dared open my mouth.
So, pull up a chair, share a pint, or a cuppa if you’re fancy—and let me try to explain how a bloke like me sees this madhouse we’re calling civilization. Fair warning, though: I’m no philosopher. I just swear a lot and shake my head until a headache forms. But hey, Bill Burr swears a lot, George Carlin did a fair bit of head-shaking, and Bill Hicks never found a sacred cow he wouldn’t flambé. Let’s see if I can top ‘em.
Chapter 1: Tribal Politics and The New Age Witch Trials
First off, how did everything become so tribal? Isn’t it weird how no matter what’s happening in the world, we’re forced to pick a side? Didn’t used to be this way. You could have, say, one mate who voted Tory because his dad did, and another who voted Labour because, “Well, it’s Labour, innit?” And we’d still bond over footy and slagging off that overpriced kebab shop down the road.
Now it’s turned into an ideological civil war. Someone says, “I prefer jam over marmalade,” and instantly they’re labeled “jam supremacists” by the marmalade folks, while the “Nutella for life” crew sets your house on fire. Online, it’s even worse: an offhand comment can escalate to full-scale Twitter meltdown and a petition to get you sacked from your job. Next thing you know, you’re on the local news, effectively tarred, feathered, and canceled. For jam.
It’s like we’re living through the new age of witch trials, except instead of pointing at a woman collecting herbs and shrieking “WITCH!”, we point at a middle-aged bloke who typed a clumsy tweet in 2012 and shriek “BIGOT!” We comb through people’s social media histories like digital archaeologists, scraping for any line that can be used as a convenient scalp. “Found it! He once said his mate was ‘acting gay’ in 2006! Cancel him!”
No wonder some of us look like we’ve got lockjaw when we talk—constantly clenching our teeth, terrified of saying the “wrong” thing. And the “wrong” thing keeps shape-shifting daily. Used to be you’d watch your language around the vicar. Now you need a dictionary that updates by the hour to keep track of which words are ‘oppressive’, ‘problematic’, or ‘whatever else is trending on TikTok right now.’ All I want is to say “Hello” without sounding like the next scapegoat for the Woke Inquisition.
Chapter 2: The Cost of Living? More Like the Cost of Bare Survival.
Tribal politics might be a headache, but it’s nothing compared to the cost of living fiasco. Everyone’s screaming about it, and for good reason—who can afford a decent life anymore? Remember those simpler times when you could buy a bag of chips for a few pence, pay your rent, and still have enough left over to see a film once a fortnight? I’m starting to think that was all a mirage, like some fairytale your nan told you while you ate biscuits.
Rent is through the roof; mortgages are borderline unattainable for anyone earning less than an oligarch’s salary. Even a basic grocery trip feels like signing your soul over to the devil. “Oh, you want tomatoes? That’ll be the deed to your house.” “Looking for baby formula? Please provide a DNA sample and a spare kidney.” Meanwhile, the bigwigs at the top—politicians, corporate execs, that mysterious group of lizard people you see on YouTube conspiracies—assure us that “Everything is fine.” They pat us on the head and toss us the occasional 5p discount voucher. Cheers, that’s super helpful, guys.
And guess what the solution is, according to them? “We need more globalization! More free trade! More technology to connect us all!” Right. That’s brilliant, except you’re shipping factories overseas where labor’s cheaper, then complaining that local workers can’t make ends meet. Meanwhile, the price of everyday goods skyrockets, and the only way to afford them is by taking on a thousand credit cards at 29.9% APR. Do they think we’re idiots? Or are we just so busy trying to scrape by that we can’t fight back? Probably both.
Chapter 3: The Green Push vs. The Real World
Now, let’s address the Great Green Push. Look, I’m not a troglodyte who wants to fill the sky with smog and turn the Earth into a giant trash pile. I think recycling’s grand, trees are lovely, and no one wants to drown in rising sea levels. But can we at least address the hypocrisy?
You’ve got governments banning plastic straws in your local pub as if that alone will save the planet, while entire countries are happily burning enough coal to power a galaxy. Take a trip to certain nations—China, for instance—and you’ll see more coal-fired plants than corner shops. Yet we’re supposed to feel guilty about boiling the kettle one extra time for a cuppa. “How dare you not buy an electric car immediately!” they scold. Meanwhile, that electric car’s battery requires cobalt mined by kids in some godforsaken pit halfway around the world. But hey, you can still put a rainbow-coloured bumper sticker on that electric car to let everyone know you care, right?
And we mustn’t forget that those very same “climate-conscious” Western countries ban coal plants at home, then import coal from somewhere else. Because apparently, the pollution doesn’t count if it crosses a border first. Australia was shipping coal like mad until it got told, “We don’t want your dirty coal!”—but that’s only because the supply lines changed and trade deals shifted. The environment? It’s more of a PR bullet point than an actual priority for these folks. If it was truly about the planet, we’d be focusing on global solutions, not waving moral superiority flags at each other for social media clout.
Chapter 4: Woke Culture, Cancel Culture, and The Paralysis of Comedy
Now, about “woke culture.” Let me clarify: I’m all for being aware of societal injustices, treating each other fairly, and learning about folks’ experiences. That’s great. But this version of woke culture has become an extreme sport in self-righteousness. It’s not enough that you try to be a decent human; you need to sign a never-ending pledge to condemn everyone you’ve ever known who might have said something questionable once upon a time.
It’s like living under permanent threat of excommunication. You know that mate you used to watch footy with down the pub? If you discover he made an off-colour joke in 2003, you better publicly denounce him, scrub him from your phone contacts, and vow never to speak to him again—lest the Twitter mob come for you next.
Consequently, comedy, which used to bring us together by poking fun at our shared absurdities, is now walking on eggshells. Take any stand-up comic—Bill Burr, Ricky Gervais, Dave Chappelle—and watch how quickly the digital pitchforks come out if they step even an inch outside the carefully painted lines. Comedy is supposed to be, by definition, slightly risky, a space to say things that press your buttons and make you question your assumptions. Now the only comedic content we’re “allowed” is sanitized, pre-approved pabulum that’s about as edgy as a wooden spoon. Is that the future we want—an entire society too terrified to laugh at itself?
Chapter 5: The Surveillance State—Big Brother Is a Fangirl
So, you want to chill out, keep your head down, ignore the insanity, right? Good luck. The moment you step outside your home, you’re on camera. Everywhere. The local council has cameras on the high street, your car’s being tracked by license-plate readers, your phone’s location data is stored by your service provider, and someone somewhere is scanning your face to guess if you look “suspicious.” Never mind if you’re just a tired parent picking up your kid from school—the system is watching.
And the best part? They tell us it’s all to “save democracy.” Because apparently, if we can record every second of your life, we’ll catch criminals, terrorists, and other bogeymen. But in practice, we mostly catch petty crimes while the big fish slip through the net—lads who launder millions, corporations that dodge taxes, or politicians who get hush-hush deals. They always find a way to avoid accountability. Meanwhile, poor Mr. Jones from number 47 has to answer a letter from the council because the AI camera detected he put the wrong colour bin out on a Thursday. That’s the wonderful double standard we’re living under: the powerful get stealth jets and private lawyers, while the rest of us get 24/7 CCTV coverage and “zero tolerance” for minor infractions.
Chapter 6: “Save the Institutions!” (But Only If They Serve Us)
This is another one that leaves me scratching my head. Every time an election rolls around, we hear politicians yelling, “We must save our institutions! Preserve democracy! Protect our freedoms!” But from what I can tell, the freedoms they’re interested in protecting mostly revolve around making sure no one challenges their power. When an institution like the press or an independent watchdog actually does its job, the government slaps them with lawsuits or new legislation to tie their hands. When that fails, they brand them “unpatriotic” or “foreign-influenced.” Meanwhile, real patriots—folks with actual concerns about the direction of the country—get shoved into the “extremist” corner.
You either believe wholeheartedly in the mainstream narrative or you’re tossed in with the tinfoil hat brigade. Mention anything about corporate lobbying, media consolidation, or bankers running off with taxpayer money, and suddenly you’re a conspiracy nut. It’s akin to being told: “We want democracy, sure, but only if the outcome lines up with what we’ve pre-approved.” That’s not democracy. That’s the fancy wrapping around an authoritarian fruitcake.
Chapter 7: Feminism, Declining Birth Rates, and The Me-Me-Me Culture
Let’s wade into murky territory: feminism. Now, proper feminism that fights for women’s equality is fantastic. Equal pay, fair treatment, body autonomy—of course, sign me up. But we’ve now got certain extremist forms of “feminism” that loathe men altogether, or treat them as disposable accessories. You see it plastered all over social media: “Men are trash,” “Who needs men anyway?” Then some of those same folks wonder why birth rates are falling. Might have something to do with a culture that’s telling people, “Why bother having kids? They’ll only ruin your vibe, cost you money, and slow you down from fulfilling your true destiny—which is to stare at your phone, collecting likes.”
Yes, the economy plays a massive role, too. Kids are expensive. Houses are expensive. Hell, petrol is expensive. Younger people look at the cost of everything and think, “Bring another mouth into this cluster? No thanks.” Add a pinch of misandry and a dash of “I can’t be bothered,” and you’ve got a recipe for a population decline. We might be heading for a future where the only babies are grown in labs run by corporations. And who’s going to pay for your pension if no one’s having kids? Good luck with that. But hey, as long as you’ve got your smartphone and a curated social media feed telling you how awesome you are, who needs the next generation?
Chapter 8: Double Standards Everywhere—A Catalogue of Hypocrisy
Double standards are the name of the game, folks. Spotting them is like shooting fish in a barrel. Here’s a quick list:
- Free Speech
- They say: “Free speech is non-negotiable!”
- They do: Deplatform you if you express an opinion they find inconvenient.
- Inclusivity
- They say: “We value diversity and different voices!”
- They do: Shout you down if you stray one iota from the officially sanctioned viewpoint.
- Feminism
- They say: “We need equality between men and women!”
- They do: Punish men collectively for the sins of a few, while ignoring when women openly vilify half the population.
- Green Policies
- They say: “Save the planet—use paper straws!”
- They do: Strike billion-dollar deals with countries that toss out more carbon in a day than we do in a year.
- Globalization
- They say: “It’s good for everybody!”
- They do: Offshore your job, then tell you to ‘retrain’ in IT while they sponsor overseas employees for a fraction of your wage.
- Cancel Culture
- They say: “No place for hate!”
- They do: Drag people through the mud for minor slip-ups or decade-old tweets, effectively hating them out of existence.
It’s a never-ending buffet of nonsense, and the average person—the one who doesn’t live on Twitter or in a Westminster bubble—just stares at it and goes, “Am I the only one seeing how insane this is?”
Chapter 9: A Longing for Simpler Times
I know, I know—every generation says it: “Back in my day!” But I swear, it wasn’t always like this. There was a time you could make a cheeky joke, even a crude one, and everyone understood it was just banter. A time you could say, “I prefer British manufacturing” without being labeled a xenophobe. A time you could chat politics down the pub, disagree, then carry on playing darts without one side storming out to post about your moral failings on Facebook.
I’m not talking about going back to some mythical “golden age” where no one was offended. Plenty of folks had it rough, and there was plenty of prejudice to go around. But we used to have a margin for error. We recognized that humans are flawed, we say stupid things sometimes, we can learn from each other. Now, screw up once, and you’re exiled from modern civilization. It’s like living in a social credit system without the courtesy of being told your actual score.
Chapter 10: But Is There Hope?
Sure, there’s hope—if we manage to see through the fog. People on the ground, everyday folks, are starting to get fed up. We’re not as stupid or as malleable as the media, corporations, or government bigwigs think. You can see it in the pushback: alternative media channels popping up, folks turning off cable news, the quiet cynicism growing among people who just want to get on with life and not be policed by a million intangible “rules.”
Deep down, I suspect most people—left, right, or center—want the same things: decent pay, safe neighborhoods, a future for their kids (if they choose to have any), and the freedom to not be harassed for every offhand remark. Maybe if we started ignoring the shrieking fringe voices that thrive on outrage, we could find a middle ground. Maybe if we realized that the “Culture Wars” are mostly orchestrated distractions, we’d unify around real issues—like the cost of living, government corruption, and making sure no child has to dig cobalt in a pit.
Chapter 11: A Reality Check—Most People Don’t Care About This Nonsense
Yes, you read that right. Most people, from what I can tell, don’t actually care about the endless Twitter storms and culture war battles. It’s the same 10% of very loud voices on social media, amplified by algorithms that feed on drama. The rest of us? We’re busy trying to figure out how to pay the electricity bill or find an NHS dentist that doesn’t have a two-year waiting list.
We’re not constantly offended. We don’t faint at the mention of an outdated pronoun. We’re not writing letters to the council every time a neighbor’s kid plays rock music at 9 p.m. We just want to get by and maybe have a bit of laughter along the way. But the system is designed to make us think everyone is on the verge of meltdown over something trivial. That’s how they control the conversation—keep us forever anxious that we’re missing some crucial social crusade, or that the barbarians are at the gate.
Chapter 12: The Ugly Truth About Globalization
Let’s talk more about globalization, because it’s been sold to us like the second coming of sliced bread: “Open markets lead to prosperity for everyone.” Right. Except if your factory job moves to another continent, and you can’t pay the mortgage. Or if you’re forced to compete against wage levels so low that no one in a developed country could survive on them. Corporate CEOs rake in bonuses, while local communities decay into ghost towns. Then the government wonders why we have a ‘mental health crisis.’ Yeah, no kidding—people who can’t feed their families might be a bit anxious, you think?
On top of that, we import cheap goods from places with zero labor regulations or environmental standards, so we can sell them here at a profit. Meanwhile, we’re told we can’t have local manufacturing because it’s not “cost-effective.” So we exploit someone else’s resources, pretend we’re saving the planet, and call it a success story. If that’s not the definition of doublethink, I don’t know what is.
Chapter 13: Self-Obsession and The Age of Instant Gratification
We’re also devouring ourselves with this me-me-me, now-now-now mentality. Social media created a cottage industry of “influencers,” all peddling narcissism disguised as content. The average person scrolls Instagram or TikTok, seeing curated glimpses of perfect bodies, perfect vacations, perfect cappuccinos. Then they look at their own grey, rainy commute and wonder why life feels so bleak. We’re constantly being sold an illusion that everyone else is living their best life while we’re stuck with the short straw. It’s not healthy.
And that same narcissism bleeds into every debate. Instead of hearing the other side, we jump straight to, “Well, I think this, so you must be a scumbag.” No empathy, no curiosity—just a reflex to defend my viewpoint as the moral high ground. It’s like each of us has become the center of our own micro-universe, and anyone who disagrees is cast into the outer darkness. Then we wonder why society feels fragmented.
Chapter 14: A Final Word to the World
So what’s the message here? Stop living in fear of saying the wrong thing. Stop letting media-manufactured hysteria shape your worldview. Stop being guilt-tripped into thinking you’re personally responsible for every injustice under the sun, from historical colonialism to climate meltdown, because you used a plastic straw once. We can still be good, caring people—just without the constant virtue-signaling and condemnation marathons.
Yes, real issues exist: sexism, racism, environmental crises, wealth inequality. We should address them in a level-headed manner, not by turning everyday life into a moral battleground. We can be mindful about our impact on the planet while acknowledging that shipping jobs overseas and outsourcing coal to other nations is blatant hypocrisy. We can champion women’s rights without labeling men the eternal enemy. We can build a better future without resorting to totalitarian surveillance or silencing every voice that asks awkward questions.
Remember: if you’re getting your worldview exclusively from your phone, you’re seeing a manipulated version of reality. Most folks in the real world are too busy paying bills to argue incessantly about microaggressions or microplastics. They’ll recycle, sure; they just don’t feel the need to tweet about it with 37 hashtags. They’ll stand up for fair wages and decent healthcare, but they won’t burn their neighbor at the stake for a slightly un-PC remark.
Epilogue: Pass the Pint, Let’s Laugh (and Think)
Look, if we can’t laugh about this madness, we’ll end up sobbing into our cereal. So pour yourself a drink, whether it’s tea or something stronger, and raise a toast to the possibility of common sense making a comeback. Or at least, let’s pray we don’t end up in a digital gulag for expressing a joke that doesn’t perfectly align with the day’s moral code.
We’re not perfect—none of us are. But perhaps we can strive for something better: a world where we can talk like adults, disagree without excommunicating each other, care about the planet without turning a blind eye to child labor, and create real equality without forgetting that humans—men, women, and everyone in between—are interdependent.
And if all else fails, we can resort to that old British pastime: complaining about the weather. At least that’s one thing no one’s tried to cancel yet. It’s probably only a matter of time, though. After all, complaining about clouds might be seen as meteorologically insensitive to those living in drought-prone regions. So get your moans in now while you still can, mates.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to see if I can afford half a loaf of bread with my dwindling bank balance. That is, assuming I don’t trip the surveillance system by daring to carry a non-approved eco-bag. And if I do, well, at least I’ll have a story to tell—until the cancel mob picks it apart for “problematic undertones.”
Cheers, and may common sense prevail. Or at the very least, may we preserve our right to laugh at the absurdity of it all.
Final Word: Laugh, Think, and Keep Moving Forward
At the end of the day, all of us—whether we’re struggling with the absurdities of cancel culture, the hypocrisy of green politics, or the daily grind of paying bills—just want to live our lives with a little dignity and a lot less nonsense. The beauty of being a regular bloke, the “ordinary” one in a world of extremes, is that you can see through the noise and get back to basics: fairness, humor, and a bit of common sense.
This isn’t a call to arms or a plea for revolution—it’s a reminder to laugh at the absurdity, call out the hypocrisy, and stay true to what matters most. We’ve all got our flaws, our missteps, our imperfect moments. But maybe, if we let go of the outrage for a minute and remember how to have a proper laugh—maybe even at ourselves—we can start building a world that’s a little less mad and a lot more livable.
So here’s to the ordinary bloke, the quiet majority, the folks just trying to make it through. Let’s keep talking, laughing, and figuring this out together—because if we can’t laugh at the madness, what’s the bloody point? Cheers.
See Also: Art vs. Cancel Culture: Exploring the Boundaries of Freedom and Fear
