This Is It

Now the millennium's truly begun,
this is our life in two thousand and one,
these are the thoughts of an average Brit,
want to know how it once was? This is it.
Lending a hand or loving thy neighbour,
kindlier acts of human behaviour
have not quite died out, but are rare indeed
in a world of selfishness, lust and greed.
Society seems to have sold its soul,
capitalism is out of control,
some wait years for an operation -
others make fortunes on pure speculation.
If you're poor, my advice is don't get sick,
do whatever it takes to get rich quick.
Capital matters like never before,
unfettered, in practice above the law,
for the poor, the cost of litigation
acts as a form of intimidation,
so real disputes might never be heard,
while newspapers bring to us, word for word,
reports on the latest frivolous case
that brings to our courts yet further disgrace.
There's little conviction, there's no reprieve
from tabloid opinions, they'd have us believe
the country is being brought to its knees
by asylum seekers and refugees.
For twenty-five pounds a week (in vouchers),
they're stigmatised, hounded, branded as slouchers,
the papers make out they're having a ball -
they must be desperate to come here at all.
The truth, it would seem, is as hard to find
as a well-adjusted and open mind -
the ease of prejudice always attracts
people who just can't be bothered with facts
or anything else that might pull apart
the bigoted views of a darkened heart:
if a mind's made up and a view holds sway,
the truth is unlikely to get in the way.
Politicians show no inclination
to turn the tide of misinformation,
they'll play to a public misconception
as long as it helps at the next election,
when all that counts is the will to win,
to triumph through leaks, betrayal and spin,
in a world where honour is sadly missed
and loyalty simply doesn't exist.
In general, employment is much the same,
unworthy of trust, unhindered by shame,
unprincipled wreckers seek quick returns,
they'll crash a business and make sure it burns,
then buy it back for no more than a song -
avoiding their debts, as planned all along.
The devious acts allowed to take place
should make the news as a national disgrace,
but nobody seems to worry that much
and this is where Britain's a real soft touch,
the serious problem from overseas
has nothing to do with a few refugees,
Britain is now such an easy target,
thanks to its "flexible labour market",
attracted by tax breaks and subsidies,
the government lures foreign companies,
but whenever the going gets too tough
and the multinationals have had enough
then, due to our toothless employment law,
this is the country from which they'll withdraw.
For those in a job, the important thing
is knowing the benefits bullshit can bring,
a career ladder is easy to climb -
just nod your head at the relevant time,
get yourself noticed, stand out from the crowd,
make snap decisions, be upbeat, be loud,
thousands of managers reached their positions
thanks to a series of bad decisions,
for even if your judgement is rotten,
it's substance, not image, that gets forgotten,
use all the buzzwords whenever you can -
make yourself scarce when the shit hits the fan.
And this is why many have so much clout
in work that they really know nothing about.
It's more than enough to get you annoyed,
but worse is to come if you're unemployed,
the impression allowed to permeate
is unemployed people sponge off the state,
again it would seem, we're such a soft touch
and benefits add up to far too much.
These misconceptions are taken as true,
but if this should ever happen to you,
you might be quite shocked, the outlook seems bleak
on just over fifty-two quid a week
and, if six months later, you still haven't found
the job to turn your fortunes round,
you'll find this allowance (already quite small)
reduced to nothing, that's right: bugger all.
You may have paid contributions for years -
it makes no difference, it still disappears
and on top of this you will have to take
the small-minded comments that people make,
they'll give their opinions, loud and clear,
ensuring that everyone present will hear,
they're only too eager to take the piss -
give voice to the face of prejudice.
Yes, there's quite a lot that you'll come to know
if you're ever one of the ones "let go".
But meeting recruiters and HR staff
can sometimes turn into a bit of a laugh,
you can bet they'll find fault with your CV:
"wrong order", "too long", "it irritates me",
but you've already changed it twice or more
in line with advice you'd received before
from other recruiters, who knew it all too
and told you exactly what you should do
to make your CV a real smash hit,
you did it: now somebody else thinks it's shit.
They love to say "think outside of the box",
which is really a galling paradox,
in view of the fact your previous r?le
determines their choice of your pigeon-hole.
But then there are many who have the cheek
to talk in the language of doublespeak,
words are important, there's lots in a name,
two actions could really be much the same,
one might be thought of as focused and cool -
the other's a blinkered silly old fool.
In corporate Britain, you'd best beware
of 'customer service' and 'customer care',
each of which is a classic expression
of words designed to give the impression
that we are no longer considered a pest
and customer problems will be addressed
by giving the customer helpline a call,
but really, is anyone there at all?
The phone rings for ages: at last you're through,
a message advises you've joined the queue,
your call's put on hold and the music plays,
in theory this could last for several days
but, feeling frustrated and all alone,
you finally give up, hang up the phone.
Once, after thirty-five minutes had passed,
I was astounded to get through at last:
"How can I help you?" A human voice said,
the shock of it all went straight to my head,
in silence, I felt such a fool because
I couldn't recall what my question was.
The sound of a genuine human voice
is rare in this world of customer choice,
where the global production methods applied
produce the diverse range of goods supplied
and modern-day distribution techniques
deliver in days what used to take weeks.
Fruits from America, fish from Japan,
fly it all in from wherever you can.
In Kenya, chemicals poison the ground
so we can have mangetout all year round.
Variety may be the spice of life,
but should we dictate to the world and his wife?
Of course, the underlying reason
for blurring our sense of region and season,
is hunger for cash, prompted by greed,
rather than matching resources to need.
And cash, it is true, is a prime concern,
who of us really has money to burn?
So if you're investing, you'd best beware
of undergrowth - it's a jungle out there,
where snakes in the grass are coiled for attack,
so watch where you're treading and cover your back.
Schemes that are sold as money-spinners
don't necessarily turn out winners,
financial products are always designed
with the interests of the seller in mind,
they play down the smallprint that goes with the sale,
hinting projections of growth cannot fail.
In return for their specialist expertise,
there's management charges, arrangement fees,
but if their decisions should fail to return
the profits you'd hoped your investment would earn,
if values go down and prices should fall,
whatever the loss, be it large or small,
the burden of risk is divided thus:
there's no risk to them, it's all down to us.
This is how terms and conditions are crafted:
the rich get richer, the poor get shafted.
With avarice seeming to rule the day,
it follows that greed will come into play,
switch on the telly, it won't take long
to see the obsession with mammon is strong.
The drama plays out in front of our eyes,
on offer, the chance of a big cash prize,
we're down to the last two contestants now
and both of them tense with a furrowed brow,
knowing that one more question could do it -
one got it right, the other one blew it.
So let's zoom in first on the winner's chair,
his shouts of "COME ON" as he punches the air,
the director switches to camera two,
another quick zoom comes into our view,
the face of the loser then fills the screen,
contorted with thoughts of what might have been,
so let's dwell a while on that vanquished face
that knows you get nothing for second place,
more and more these days, it's winner takes all -
the closer you get, the harder you fall.
The audience whoops and they twirl their arms,
displaying the worst of American charms,
you'd think they'd never had more excitement,
the scene is sad, a savage indictment
of how people act in Britain today -
they've watched too much crap from the USA.
There isn't much call for sobriety
in this voyeuristic society,
where what was once considered disgraceful
might not be thought of as even distasteful,
it seems quite normal to choose to expose
your innermost secrets on TV shows.
Another relationship comes to grief:
the audience gasps in disbelief!
That man's so in love with the girl of his dreams,
but wait, not everything's quite what it seems,
she says that she loves him, says that she cares,
then she confesses a string of affairs,
she's slept with a friend he's known all his life,
she's slept with his Dad and his brother's ex-wife,
it couldn't be worse! Or maybe it can?
"The other thing, dear, is I'm really a man."
So 'she' was really a man all along -
did it never occur that something was wrong?
There must have been moments he felt unsure,
when he got rather more than he bargained for,
did he not think it strange, in his heart of hearts,
his girl had those extra unwomanly parts?
Of course, the whole thing is just a sham,
played out in front of the videocam,
it's freakshow mentality, cheap, uncouth,
but who said they promised to tell the truth?
Remember, the truth is as hard to find
as a well-adjusted and open mind,
and entertainment's becoming more crass
as bullshit approaches critical mass.
These are my thoughts on two thousand and one,
a personal report that is nearly done -
is there still hope we'll avoid the abyss,
or is it the case it was always like this?
It's a worrying thought to think this might
be a permanent part of our human plight,
these aspects of human behaviour are norms,
they're there all the time in different forms.
But if, in the future, someone should read
these lines on our lack of substance, our greed,
and think for themselves, independently,
that things have improved significantly
and that the behaviour that I describe
seems like the acts of a dog-eat-dog tribe,
then I would be glad the bad times had gone,
that you had advanced, the world had moved on.
But for now this is it, my course has run,
good luck to you all from two thousand and one.