I went round to Bill’s House, past the park with the playground and a statue of a phallus right next to it. I couldn’t help but think of this as inappropriate.
But then I thought that I was probably just as inappropriate, walking through this park full of children when I didn’t have any.
I stopped and sat down on a bench dedicated to some dead old bird called Mavis (“She Loved It Here”) and thought that a couple of the parents thought I was a paedophile. There wasn’t much I could do about it.
“I am not a paedophile.”
I thought about saying that. But then I imagined that would have only made the situation worse.
I got to Bill’s house eventually. There was a show on about a North Korean family living in the capital city Pyongyang. It looked depressing and grey and half-abandoned – a bit like Rochdale.
About halfway through the North Koreans started watching the news on the telly. It was a bit like The Royle Family except nobody was fat.
“I wonder what our Dear Leader is up to today.” It said on the subtitles.
“I don’t know what our dear leader Kim is up to, but I’m very excited to find out what wonderful things the great Kim Il Sung has been up to today.”
The Dear Leader didn’t show in the end. The family seemed a bit disappointed, but they put a brave face on it. It was like that bit in Bullseye when they didn’t get the 101 in 6 darts at the end.
Although he’d never been himself, Bill thought North Korea was a bit of a shithole.
“It’s a fucking shithole mate.” He said.
I didn’t have much of an opinion about it. I was the type of person that thought people got used to pretty much everything. The only bit that’s shit is getting used to something new. Like, if you were born blind, I thought that would be fine. But if you went blind in later life, that would be shit because you’d have to get used to it.
Because North Koreans were born in North Korea, I figured they couldn’t be too unhappy. At least that Kim fellow gives them all something to chat about.
That show Question Time was on the telly after that. A load of people from the audience were supposed to ask questions to a bunch of politicians about politics and shit. Mostly, the politicians didn’t know what they were talking about, so they just said a load of bollocks and tried to make the audience feel good.
Question Time made a lot of people angry with politicians because they thought that the load of bollocks they were talking was covering something up or was lying or something like that.
Halfway through Bill got himself caught up in the action.
“He’s a Tory bastard.” He said. “A fucking Tory bastard.”
“Yes.” I said. “He is indeed.”
A good looking woman in her twenties started talking. Sometimes on Question Time a young person got to speak and ended up rambling on for ages without anybody having the nerve to interrupt them.
“Christ.” Bill shouted. “The clue’s in the title.”
“What’s that Bill?”
“Question time. Question? That silly bitch didn’t even ask a question. She just said the EU was great because of this, that and the other.”
“Yes. You’re right there. Maybe a funny farting sound should go off when a member of the audience gets it wrong. Like with Family Fortunes.”
Although the North Korean thing was filmed and the family probably didn’t want to be seen shouting “fucking cunt” in Korean at Kim Il Sung on the telly for fear of repercussions, it still seemed unlikely that the North Korean Question Time would involve everybody shouting at their television sets calling everybody on it a cunt. In fact, all people really felt in Korea was quite happy for a while, and then really, really upset when their leader died. When Kim Il Sung died, the telly was full of these images of all these North Koreans crying hysterically.
It was almost as bad as when Diana snuffed it.
Maybe that’s the next stage though – hysterical crying whenever we watch politicians talking crap on the telly. Maybe that’s what will happen when democracy finally dies.