I know nothing about singing or dancing. I’m like a tree; I only sway when the wind blows. My hips are connected to my shoulders by steel beams. Wiggling is impossible for me. I can’t even reach my own back in the shower without a using brush on a stick. People like John Travolta amaze me. There must be something missing in that man’s anatomy. It’s as if his major bones are connected by rubber bands. I bet he can even twist enough to see his own arse! I could never do that; I’d need fifteen mirrors, four assistants and a spotlight to inspect my own crack.
And singing! Ha! If I ever do sing (after many bottles of wine, in a club full of Japanese worker bees who howl like broken robots), then chaos ensues. Dogs bite everything in sight, all grass within 20 miles turns brown and the moon draws away from the earth, as if it’s pining for Mars. Some people even blame my singing for El Nino, but that’s totally unfair.
If I sat next to Simon Cowell at a dinner, I’d be like: “Hey bud. Nirvana was good, I liked Nirvana. But Jedward…not so much.”
And he’d look at me as if I was an alien and say: “Yeah, well a lot has happened since the 90’s other than Jedward…”
And I’d be like, “Really? I must have missed that.”
I know about oil and investment and management and writing (Ha! My critics howl…Ha!!). I know nothing about music or visual entertainment. Which is why I would not expect Simon Cowell to nominate me as his favourite dinner guest.
But somehow, Charlotte Church expects David Cameron to lick her boots. Here is a woman who can sing and… Well, what else can she do? Does anyone know? No. So… Here is a woman who has nothing in common with our Prime Minister and yet she feels unloved when he ignores her at dinner.
What was she expecting?
David: “Oh Charlotte! You’re that singing Muppet from Wales! Wow! Tell me what to do in the EU referendum, please. Juncker is such a dick. I’ve been waiting for your wisdom…”
David: “Oh Charlotte! Your songs are amazing! You should be knighted! Like, totally… Will you sign my arse? I want to wear your tattoo….”
I mean, honestly. What can Charlotte Church offer to David Cameron???
“You know, Daviiiiiid, Aldi has the cheapest make uuuuup, but Lidl is best for budget cdeeeeeeees.”
Tell us please Charlotte. On what topic do you deem yourself an expert? What subject have you studied? What books have you read and absorbed? What experience do you have in life (other than barking at a microphone)?
Oh. None, you say? You don’t read? You don’t study anything? You have no life experience? You just vomit opinions like a drunken wino? Okay….
The sad thing is that so many people like Charlotte Church think that they are born with an encyclopaedic knowledge of the world. These people never read books, they never read thoughtful articles, they never study data, they never even pause to review their own opinions.
They just spout shit.
People like Charlotte Church think that learning and study and thoughtfulness are irrelevant. They never become experts on any single topic. They never spend time analysing data or interviewing real people to assess the true situation…
They just spout shit.
Well here’s the thing Charlotte… It doesn’t matter who you are or what noisy nonsense you’ve sung. If your words and your opinions are not bolstered by analysis and data and logic, then basically, sweetie, you’re just farting out hot air and nobody with a brain will spend more than a nanosecond thinking about the worthless specks of shit that you’ve ejected. Being a celebrity singer doesn’t make you smart, it just makes you noisy.
David Cameron has better things to do than listen to your effluent.
You want to pay 70% tax? Then do it. Call HMRC and they’ll surely look after you. You don’t need Cameron’s approval.
You want people to listen to you at a dinner party? Then study something and build some opinions that are bolstered by real data and analysis. Otherwise, you’re no better than a hound in a karaoke bar…. You’re just barking in the wind 😉