Afternoon of the living dead!

I am starting to think that no stone is going to be left unturned in the quest to point out why everything seems to be spiralling into oblivion. It has reached a point where I am actually becoming annoyed at myself, if for no other reason, the individuals that bear the brunt of my hatred are quietly frankly extremely easy targets. I’m serious, there’s just no sport in it, but I suppose I will just have to resign myself to accepting that these things need pointing out.

The target of my loathing today is youths, or yoot, as I believe they now like to be called. The reason why they appeared on the radar is that they have this increasing propensity to look brain dead. If you are unfortunate enough to be walking through the city centre at the same time as the little cherubs, you probably won’t pay much attention to them. Look a little more closely however and you will start to get the feeling that you have just walked onto the set of every zombie film ever made. That’s not a simile that I reach for easily, as I find myself questioning whether zombies are more or less on the ball than youths.

If you happen to have the dubious pleasure of casual observance in the near future, you may wish to consider looking for the key features displayed by our brain dead under-generation. The eyes will be partially rolled back into the skull - giving the delightful impression of total disinterest - combined with subtle undertones of a pseudo-comatose demeanour. Watch even more closely and you will also notice that they have absolutely no purpose or particular direction of travel and will no doubt spend a number of hours drifting round town with no reason nor purpose.

Personally, I can only speculate that this is down to a combination of 24-hour television and games consoles, but perhaps they just aren’t getting smacked enough by their parentals. I would love to seem games consoles coming in kit form, which would at least mean that they would have to display some level of cognitive thought, before sinking back into the world of the brain dead.

As per usual, any comments, quips or gripes should be directed to the comments section. Alternatively, if you are one of the aforementioned yoot and have inexplicably taken the time to read this, then feel free to mash the keyboard with those chubby little cocktail sausages you like to call fingers.