People always build your first voting experience up to be
significant. It's supposed to mark a transition into adulthood, an inaugural
moment to make your voice heard. However, as I dashed into the polling station,
soaked through by the rain, I did not feel a sense of empowerment. Instead, I
was shivering and wondering how long it would be until I could go home, have a
hot bath and then watch Jack Whitehall's latest show on Netflix. After giving
my name and address to the nice man, I was handed my ballot paper. I scrawled a
cross next to my chosen party, slipped the paper into the box and hurried back
outdoors to brave the elements. That was it. By any standards, not an
experience to write home about and one which I will cease blogging about.
Truth be told, politics is not my forte. Personally, I would
rather while away an evening, watching Made In Chelsea than yawn my way through
an episode of Question Time. While I will never be a dedicated LBC listener
(much to my father's disappointment), I do believe politics is important. I've
always strived to keep track of what's going on, even if that means wading
through the esoteric manifestos. However, this general election has been
shambolic. And I can safely say, I am not the only one who feels this apathy.
Our trust in politicians has been wearing thin for the past few
years. Back in the summer, for example, the public including myself, were more
fixated by Love Island, as opposed to who was going to run our country. This
particular general election has not only broken records for being the most
boring and joyless period in political history; it has marked a climax of this
unpopularity contest. As voters, we are not choosing who is the best out of the
best. It is instead a question of holding our noses and working out who is the
least worst or the least capable candidate of dragging our country further into
the mire.
I feel we are entitled to throw shade at our politicians. They
have, quite frankly, made the UK into a global laughing stock, with their
bickering and dithering and empty promises. If we didn't already know our MPs
were childish, we certainly do now, thanks to Bojo's antics on Wednesday. I
mean, evading a journalist by playing hide and seek in a fridge? It might be imaginative
but are we really still in year five?
Aside from the embarrassing blunders and a united loss of the will
to live, this whole election has been shrouded in a much darker overtone of
fear and uncertainty. Many of these MPs may be highly educated. But they don't
know the first thing about empathy, about respect and about what this country
truly needs.
And of course, at the heart of all the scandal and delusion, there
is the Brexit board game on our hands. To think over four years ago, the word
Brexit didn't even exist. Now, the B word is positively ubiquitous, dominating
everything from our headlines to our social media feeds. As if we weren't fed
up enough already, increasing numbers of companies are now cashing in and
jumping aboard the band waggon, emblazoning their merchandise with political
slogans. The other day I saw a Brexit Christmas jumper and I literally wanted
to cry. Firstly, who would waste their money on that? And secondly, how have we
reached a point where we are tainting the festive cheer with such misery? We
have to ask ourselves: what lies in store? Will TV franchises start commissioning
Brexit themed spin-off shows to add to the mix? I mean, the options are
endless. We could have Deal Or No Deal. Alternatively, what about a Take Me Out
Brexit special? It would be far more entertaining than the usual mind-numbing
debates. We could scrap the bombastic speakers and instead have Paddy McGuinness,
keeping order over the MPs. Just imagine it: Boris Johnson dancing down the
lift before delivering his deal. Then, when voting, they could adopt the 'no
likey, no lighty approach', and if in an instance of a majority, Paddy could
announce 'congratulations you've got yourself a deal, you're going to the Isle
of The Singles Market!'. Better still, ITV could do a spin-off jungle called I'm
A Brexiteer Get Me Out of Here, in which we send the MPs to the Australian
outback and force them to eat cockroaches until they come up with a solution.
Jezza and Bojo would probably tear each other to shreds or push each other off
that bridge at the end. But let's be honest, it would be quality TV at its
finest.
Whether those of us desire or disdain of Brexit, I think the
principle remains: we are sick and tired of it. Our politicians are not
listening. They are messing around and tampering with our future as if it is
all a game.
But alas, time is ticking and, as we speak, our votes are being
counted. Within a matter of hours, we will be finding out who has been given
the set of keys to 10 Downing Street. Whatever happens, it's going to be tight.
Let's just hope things don't take a turn for the worse.
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