standing up for yourself, rather than complaining, which is defined by most dictionaries as: ‘being a whingeing git who will try anything to ruin someone’s day, so long as they can do it just by talking in a droney voice about someone else’s perceived faults.’
Complaining is bad because it combines only negative elements. For a start, it offers no solutions. The old scumbollock who knocks on your front door because your ball has gone over his fence yet again rarely offers to buy you a PlayStation or suggest that you grow some leylandii (see LEYLANDII) so that your ball will bounce back into your own garden. No, he just wants to complain. Preferably while either handing you back a ball that has been deflated with some old-man scissors, or while hinting that somewhere, possibly in his shed or his odoury bedroom, there is a magical pile of balls, all collected over the years, some possibly signed by Bobby Moore, or even kicked over the wall by Bobby Moore as a lad.
Then there’s the moany factor. If a stranger is just a friend you haven’t met yet (and here’s a clue: they aren’t), then a complainer is just a lonely, stinky attention-seeker you haven’t met yet. Complaining is the flip-side of making pals with people. Unable – thanks to their vile personalities, totally negative outlook, and obsession with keeping other people’s footballs – to form normal relationships, complainers are forced to resort to a different tactic. Complaining.
When someone knocks on your door in the morning to complain about the fact that they could just about hear your Brian Eno CD after 10.30 p.m. if they stood on a ladder and jammed their ear up to the ceiling in a toothglass full of sophisticated surveillance equipment, they’re not just there for the joy of making your life unpleasant. They’re lonely and friendless and would do anything for human company.
Unfortunately, they are also very bad people who, when they die, will go to a special hell where demons will constantly kick footballs into their burning garden, play music loudly after ten thirty at night, take their milk from the fridge without replacing it, and never put the lid back on either the toothpaste or the toilet.
PEOPLE WHO DON’T COMPLAIN
This may well be a purely English phenomenon. Just as the English are a nation of whingekeepers (see PEOPLE WHO COMPLAIN), then they are also – by some strange paradox – a nation of apparent stoics in the face of a minor crisis. We can prove objectively that this problem is largely localized to England, incidentally, simply by looking at the rest of the world. In hot European countries, like France, Spain and Italy (there are others, but we need not name them all here), the populace are long used to rising up at any major grievance, such as the assassination of this week’s president. In lesser ways, too, they are sensibly volatile. A minor parking infraction can lead to all sorts of honking of horns, waving of fists, and – if it’s a particularly warm day – exchange of small-arms fire.
The same applies, of course, on other continents where it’s a bit warm. From Indonesia to Argentina, when people get vexed, they take to the streets, do a lot of waving and shouting and, for some reason, set fire to all the buses. (NB: It’s never really clear why buses come in for so much stick from the local populace. After all, very few buses have tried to suppress democracy. Then again, the bendy ones are almost certainly up to no good – see BENDY BUSES.)
And, of course, in the very cold countries, when people get vexed, they just drink vast amounts of rubbing alcohol, throw chairs at each other in bars made out of ice, and set fire to the buses. But that’s probably more to keep warm than anything else.
So not complaining seems to be an activity confined entirely to the English (the rest of Great Britain, being Celts, have no truck with all that ‘mustn’t grumble’ nonsense and even now are probably looking for some sort of bus to set fire to. The Cornish, not being real Celts, are thinking about torching an ice-cream van.) The English are famous throughout the world for not complaining. Here are some common phrases associated with not complaining and the English:
‘MUSTN’T GRUMBLE
‘WE DON’T WANT TO CAUSE A FUSS.’
‘CAN’T COMPLAIN.’
‘WE DIDN’T REALLY LIKE TO SAY ANYTHING.’
‘THE CHICKEN WAS OFF BUT WE ATE IT ANYWAY.’
‘I DON’T LIKE TO CAUSE A SCENE.’
‘THE WAITER DID POUR THE SOUP OVER ALAN’S HEAD, BUT WE DIDN’T TIP, SO THAT WAS ALL RIGHT.’
‘I’M A COMPLETE CRAVEN COWARD SO PLEASE WALK ALL OVER ME.’
And so on. There is a fear seated deep in the English psyche that by causing a scene or making a fuss or saying anything other than ‘thank you’ to the person beating you up is somehow not the done thing. It’s possibly a suspicion that maybe it’s their fault all along, that somehow they made the nasty hotel receptionist give them a room with spiders in the minibar. And it’s certainly something to do with the English belief that if you ignore something it will go away. Now, while this worked with, say, snoek, the Charleston and East 17, it never helps in a conflict situation. So the solution is clear: people who don’t complain should – without becoming whiners – stand up for themselves and their rights. And then maybe the rest of the world will stop thinking of us as floppy-haired prannets in tweed socks.
PIRATES
Very fashionable. One wonders, though, what other bunch of syphilitic mercenary psychopaths will become trendy next? Lawyers? Couriers? Opticians?
PEOPLE WHO LIKE BEING TAKEN SERIOUSLY
One of the most overrated ambitions in the world, particularly in the entertainment industry – the desire to be taken seriously – has been responsible for the death of more fun than, say, hot-air ballooning or the last three Star Wars films. And yet it has spread through every area of modern life.
Obviously, sometimes this is not a bad thing. A brain surgeon who didn’t want to be taken seriously is not somebody you’d like to have rooting around your cranium with a pair of pinking shears. Similarly, few of us would like to be in the same court as a judge who says, ‘We find the defendant guilty of murder and sentence him to be hanged by the neck until – wait! I’m kidding! Fifty pounds’ fine with costs! No! Hanging! No! I’m just messing with you! Yo! I’m also a rapper!’
But the world of entertainment exists for one purpose and one purpose only – to make people who have had a crappy day have a better one. People who are taken seriously – coal miners, shopkeepers, healthcare workers – like to go out, or come home, and not take things seriously. They don’t care that the people entertaining them – clowns, jugglers, Morrissey – are perhaps in some ways silly or daft, they just want to be entertained.
This is not to say (not that it matters) that no entertainers can be serious. If your curse is that you are Ibsen, or Mahler, or Scott Walker, or any of the other great talents who can never remember a joke, let alone tell one, then fine. Be glum and be good at it. But everyone else! Shut up worrying about how important you are!
Sadly, this excellent advice is hardly ever – oh, the epic irony – taken seriously, and so the world of stuff that is meant to make us feel a bit less unhappy is instead frequently filled with gloom. Here is an easy, cut-out-and-weep guide to the major danger zones in the world of Being Taken Seriously:
1. ACTORS. Thirty years in the business, loads of experience, talent to spare (well, some of them) and finally, a nice part as the Reverend Bumblebee in Midsomer
