8 IS THE MAGIC NUMBER
But it could also be the number of dogs-on-string and “swampies” you could have camping-out in your back garden in July!
I was going to suggest the old “if you’ve been living in a cave or on Mars” cliché but even if you have, you’ll definitely now already have heard about G8. It struck the fear of God into me at first, because I naturally assumed it was Simon Cowell, now launching an octet of fat, posh blokes, hellishly yodelling through another shit, cod-opera version of a Queen song. I was therefore quite relieved to find out that it was only a chance for major upheaval, civil unrest, violence and alleged police brutality in Perthshire.
I’d take that over “Pap Idle” any time.
For those of you unlucky enough to have visited Auchterarder, it’s not so much sleepy as comatose. If anywhere could do with, quite literally, a rocket up its’ arse and some major upheaval, then that place is Auchterarder. I’m not saying it’s dull but a “watching paint dry” exhibition would pack-out the village hall there. There’s probably no other way that it would ever get a mention anywhere, (even in the Perthshire Advertiser) without this event. So, the Auchterardians or whatever they are called, should think themselves jolly lucky.
Again, I’d always assumed The Long Walk to Justice was a Johnny Cash song but it’s the one spin-off that will potentially be of huge benefit to the burghers of Edinburgh and indeed ….the burgers of Edinburgh.
Talk about Make Poverty History, if those of you lucky enough to have a palatial pad in the leafy New Town in Edinburgh screw the nut, you could come up with an um….. “Inspiring” plan that could make you real some, ehm ….”Capital”!
In short, you'll be able to put a real stop to poverty. Your own!
I have to agree with what the organisers suggest though, do something very un-Edinburghian. Embrace your fellow man! But obviously as we’re now European, do this in a more entrepreneurial fashion, as they would in Paris. For instance, you could have a nice, retired French pastor and his CND activist wife in the lounge. A foxy trio of Hertfordshire, desperate housewives in the back bedroom. How about a posse of nice-but-dim Buckinghamshire, public-schoolboys, crammed into the garage, beside the Land Rover? Or in the kid’s Wendy house on the lawn.
Pop out to IKEA or B&Q for a couple of blow-up beds, rustle-up a bit of brekkie and maybe even an evening meal (think M&S ready meals, dahling), and you'll be on to a nice little earner. £100-a-skull will seem a bargain to them, once they've trudged up and down Newington and waited in the G8 mile-long queue at Waverley Tourist Information. If you factor-in that it's bound to be pissing down, you'll be turning them away in droves!
With gazillions of Bob's disciples probably descending on the Inspiring Capital, beds will become a Holy Grail-like mirage. Those of you with a modest fifteen-room-and-kitchen in Barnton will have everyday amenities that will be like hen's teeth. Clean duvets, a non-chemical lavvy, a fridge to chill the beer (or as it’s mostly Southerners, the Chablis). So, lots of filthy lucre and all for a couple of days minor discomfort. Let’s face it, if you live in the suburbs of Edinburgh, most G8 “soft” activists will be much more civil and a good deal more fun than your neighbours anyway.
Again, as I’m a huge fan of massively sweeping statements, I’d imagine most of the people turning up will be self-righteous, middle-class toss pots with money to burn so don’t get all “right-on” and claim that this is the totally wrong approach to take.
I would think it's your duty and the duty of every right-thinking citizen of Edinburgh to milk them for every red cent. Send them home knowing what it's really like to be skint, marginalised and left to rot on the periphery.
Sir Bob would be feckin' proud of you!
Published in The Drum Magazine - Scotland's most popular media and marketing read.