Tuesday, 27 December 2011


Jedward; We all know who they are, the cheeky, happy-go-lucky human equivalent of the puppy that occasionally runs into trees, and then has the temerity to look both confused and baffled by what is, to its simple mind, the sudden appearance of a 40 foot wooden pole from seemingly thin air. They are also, according to wikipedia "Proud possessors of hair so utterly magnetising it has drawn all 20% of a personality that they were born with, and sucked it directly to its magic follicles". It's fair to say that Jedward's hair is the best thing about them, which is a shame, because if you are outshone by your hair, you probably aren't very interesting. They are some sequiny clothes with hair. The only thing I could accurately tell you about them as people is that they are Irish, and so pale that, naked, they are invisible to the human eye in the Antarctic.

But we must come to the crux of the matter. I don't think it's an exaggeration to say this: Jedward have literally ruined my life. You see, all my personal and professional accomplishments, admittedly scarce and minor, lie scattered by the wayside to their unending success. My achievements have been stripped of all meaning by the knowledge that, no matter how great I am in my chosen career, I will never be as well-known as Jedward, despite their bottomless well of talentlessness. To be outstripped by greats of our time, and cast aside as sand to the winds of eternity whilst they live on, rocks of brilliantness that generations from ours will look back on in awe and respect, that is a noble thing. But to imagine that in 100 years Jedward will be better remembered than Nobel prize-winners and other luminaries of our generation? Well, by contrast, what chance do I have against the might of their captivating hair?

So why bother even trying to eclipse these gigantic planets of meaningless celebrity? My every action now is a futile gesture against their unending success in the face of millions and millions and millions of obstacles that should be holding them back. In a century they will be remembered and I shall not; in a millennium, we will all be forgotten, consigned to the books of history. They will impact more lives more heavily than I could ever hope to do. I could spend my every waking moment pursuing an impact on society as strong as theirs is, and never come anywhere near it.

My experience tells me effort and talent bring success. Logic dictates that this should be so. Yet around Jedward, this worldview is a shattered illusion, a lie invented to explain reality in a way I can understand, and I have become painfully aware of this. My new outlook on life is that silly hair and ridiculous clothing brings unimaginable success. As such, I have bought hairgel and a sequin-covered floral nightgown. Wish me luck!

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