Only someone with spectacularly limited abilities to discern societal trends would have failed to notice that cats are immensely and increasingly popular on the Internet. Once this was pointed out to the aforesaid individual, (who perhaps has manfully shunned the unrelenting onslaught of the Information Age, preferring the worldly pleasures of music, maidens and masonry to the ethereal lure of videos of foreigners on public transport, or perhaps he is blind) he would have to be an utter moron not to notice that this feline fetishism is undoubtedly a portent of the demise of the epoch.
Today – the 9th June – is a noteworthy date for several reasons.
On this day in 1870, English author Charles Dickens died at his home in Kent. The great man finally succumbed to disease, or old age, or whatever (I haven’t reasearched it). I cannot help but wonder if his obituary was released over time via a protracted serialisation relying on unlikely coincidences within the narrative?
Earlier, on 9th June 1623, the mighty British Forces in America had displayed their bravery and strategic brilliance, proposing a toast to perpetual friendship with the tribes of the Potomac River under Chief Opechancanough, most of whom later dropped dead from the poisoned wine. (This is presumably the same kind of cunning the Brits used to subjugate my home town of Carrickfergus under their fearsome knight, John de Courcy, in 1177.)
And today, 9th June 2011, the Bilderberg Group will meet in Switzerland, in some incredibly luxurious hotel where the tog count of the duvets is through the roof.
When faced with the question “Who is the Coolest Person on Earth?”, those encumbered with infirm opinions usually take several minutes to answer, stammering incoherently in pursuit of a decision. When they finally get round to evincing their (wrong) opinion, the questioner has normally wandered off due to boredom.
Conversely, those of us equipped with robust opinions and a staunchly decisive personality fire back an unshakable answer to this question with such intense swiftness that the questioner is often stunned, usually wincing with the realisation that they have found themselves in the embarrassing position of having had insufficient time to prepare a follow-up question.