Despite all the economic good news, I’ve since long had a feeling that Britain was losing the plot. First you have the cases of hate preachers left undisturbed for years, free to brainwash youngsters into joining IS in Syria or to blow themselves up on buses and trains in London (Abu Hamza, Abu Qatada, Atif Choudarij anyone?). Then you have the anti-paedophilia crusade (a very honourable endeavour, don’t get me wrong) reaching whole new heights such as prohibiting parents to film their own kids’ sports day (all while we hear how Jimmy Savile, his pals at BBC and possibly some MPs have continued to rape youngsters, virtually undisturbed). And now we have Black Friday.
After a media barrage second only to the build-up to a World Cup, people have left their workplaces in droves to queue up in front of shops. Today, predictably, websites are collapsing, queues are sneaking up along the streets and fights are breaking out. I’ve seen stories of people fighting whilst queueing overnight in front of an ASDA. ASDA, people, a supermarket. People were stampeding on top of each other at a Tesco, hands full of cheap LCD screens. Police have been called to seven different supermarkets in Manchester (the Mancunian lads have a bit of a temper, I admit).
It’s complete, sheer, total madness. These aren’t Selfridges, Harrod’s, John Lewis, and even if they were the violence wouldn’t be something I’d accept or condone. These are normal shops, where normal people go to and whose customers, if asked whether or not they felt the crisis, would definitely reply with a resounding “yes”. And yet today they are all down there, punching each other in the face and getting busted by the police, all for the sake of a Blaupunkt LCD television discounted by 30%.