This is the best song/poem/thing in the world, ever.
No, it actually is. I have it playing in the background while writing this and I am already crying by the time she mentions his muley cow. Ack. Gillian Welsh kills me.
As a well-read, college-educated, reasonably comfortable white female in the south-east of Ireland, my opinion on things is OBVIOUSLY so so niche and thus is frequently sought on various matters. I read non-fiction books! Alot of the time those NF books are NOT about the Mitfords or Jane Austen and are about actual stuff that happened in the last fifteen years! I -sometimes, seriously, it is so painful though- read novels that AREN'T set pre-1950 and involve actual contemporary issues! [Gender & race politics during the post-WW2 era is kinda contemporary, right? Yeah? God, I so have my finger on the pulse of the average fiction reader. I'm so glad I work in the industry that I'm in. I would sooo hate to be out of touch of the typical fiction reader haha that would be a deathnell haha wait what?]
Also, I read the lifestyle sections of [certain] newspapers! And I have recently weaned myself off reading Roisin Ingle's IT's Saturday column for diuretic purposes! I'm so well-adjusted and alligned with the average 25- 40 demographic. Survey me! I'm, like, uber-intelligent and informed! I am! I did a module on 20th Century Irish Pol in college! Yes! Yeah, so I can't spell for toffee outside MS Word but heck, I have opinions and I am willing to share them. Here is one and it is bland *SPOILERALERT*
So. I have a terrificly bad habit of canonizing things/people/books/authors/directors/musicians as my own personal gospel and utilising theorems/philosophies/lyrics from such as my own personal bible. Do you do this? WHY WOULDN'T YOU? Itss pretty much how modern culture is presented to us. Like that Adele song? Well, here's seventeen-hundred articles why Adele is awesome and why you should worship her and ALSO panicbuy concert tickets at 8am because you're told to. See also: Lily Allen, Coldplay, Bruce Springsteen, Florence & The Machine, countless others that are sufficently marketed to us MOR people so we prebook and think its a gift. They seem so great, let's make them our religion. Yeah?
It's a shockin' bad habit of mine, anyway, even before the marketeers cottened on to it. I have previously gotten through quitting a job by repeating a poem in my brain like it's religious verse, my (final, successful) driving test by mumbling the good luck message of a friend like it was a mantra. I have frequently reminded myself of this poem whenever I feel lost and adrift and can't understand humanity (AKA hungover).
I'm entirely cognisant of the fact that my future biographer will make great haystacks out of my professed atheism alligned with my imperiative need to idolise individuals, writers, politicans, men, women etc; and correctly question my opposition to theism. Hey. Fine. Whatevs, future biographer: I havent done anything noteworthy yet so dunno why you exist.
I try real hard not to do it, because it's crazy and untenable and recently I have been super productive on the whole regarding-humans-I -meet-and-like-as-humans-not-as-prophets-on-how-I-should-live-my-life (look at me! 29 and still expecting to find a life mission from the next person I meet! Cult-leaders, seek me out!), but it's a slow progress. Everytime I hit a metaphorical roadblock, I start humming "Hard times; ain't gonna rule my mind, honey"; anytime human avarice or folly exasperates me I find myself stumbling to Austen for satirical succor; whenever I feel like the biggest fool in the room I just smoke a cigarette and think of this song. And all these things, they're so great, so awesome, so profound, so off my beat that they fix me. So, there's that. I'm not cured yet.