This issue, o-two goes serious and discusses the economy. The IMF and hipsters come under the watchful scrutiny of Killian Woods.
There is a thud at the front door. The European Union wonders who it might be at such a late hour. It’s Ireland, home from the late-night midlands disco, projectile vomiting all over the house and now expecting to be carried back to bed.
Smelling of urine, and one slight jerk away from releasing the contents concealed by our anus, Ireland has thrown itself into the arms of godfather IMF. He’s that godfather who always has a spare €50 to spot you at Christmas and also cheekily let you have a quick drag of his cigarette at Greece’s funeral.
Well godfather IMF is now carrying Ireland to bed with one arm and carrying a spoon with the other. Will they be spoon-feeding us some economics Calpol, or going in the backdoor looking for some sovereignty?
Now obviously this is not a literal portrayal of the current predicament our country finds itself in, but it’s an apt explanation.
Some people question how a country like Ireland degenerates into such an ungodly mess. It’s a simple question of where did all the money go? We “allegedly” had a lot, and now we don’t. People, no matter how prehistorically ape-like, are adept at putting two things together and finding a difference.
That ball is red, that one is yellow. I used to fly to work in my helicopter, now I get the bus. Last year I ate caviar and Weetabix for breakfast, now I have wet bread and a lick of butter. As stupid as people may seem, most are astute at comprehension and the comparative.
Well, the issue is, we are now told what to comprehend. If we’re not informed, we continue to spend and live above our means until someone eventually puts their hand in the fire to see how hot it is.
Facebook has become our new tool of comprehension. Everybody uses Facebook under the guise that it is a social networking site for keeping in touch with friends, but it has developed into more than that. Mark Zuckerberg’s creation has become the new Six One News to the young hip(ster) generation of Ireland. It is hard to gauge the potential magnitude of its informative abilities, but it can be safely assured that they are high.
When the well-read population of Ireland realised we had hit the economic cesspool, the news was broken to others by a series of new groups to like. As people began to like “The awkwardness of when Ireland gets bailed out by the IMF” and “I’m going to Marbella LOL jk I’m Irish and have no monies”, word quickly circulated that we were screwed.
It has come to a pitiful situation where we are informed by hard-hitting financial news through Facebook, however, it is only one of the many nails in a box that are going to be used to seal our coffin.
At time of doom and gloom, all the average taxpayer wants to hear is that there is a plan – in this case, a four-year plan. The majority of us were naturally cautious at first, as words like front-loaded, VAT and tax were alluded to.
In the past year or so, a variety of countries have been in situations that are so extremely dreadful that through association, we looked to be somewhat sound. There has been Chilean miners dominating the headlines, people suffering from cholera in Haiti and Sarah Palin’s army of racist/mongrel rednecks featuring highest in people’s thought process, leaving Ireland hiding in the dark.
Now we all had a good cry about the Chilean miners struggle and chuckle about the cholera in Haiti, but now people worldwide are laughing at us. The English are sniggering at the stupid Paddys across the water who shouldn’t be trusted with money and the rest of the EU are tossing and turning over a way to purge the Irish threat to the world economy.
Patience is important at this time. We have been kindly bailed out by godfather IMF and everything will be fine. Eventually a rich Arabian man will come along, take pity on us and buy us out. He can rejuvenate our status worldwide and we’ll remember how to take European Union money again without anybody noticing. We can be his personal little project.
So, what exactly is the problem? No one will have to curb their spending. We can all rush out and buy expensive tickets to see Justin Bieber and Glee in the O2 next year and afford to lavish our families with expensive gifts this Christmas.
Harping back to metaphorical introduction, maybe with the IMF sporting a spoon in its hand and holding a drunk Ireland in the other, our sovereignty is under question. What would the elder statesmen that died for their country in 1916 think of the mess we are in?
They’d probably be more curious about all the strangely dressed hipsters who lounge around wearing basketball runners, skinny jeans, 3D glasses and a jumper with a bear on the front. There you go. IMF, the 1916 rising and hipsters all linked in one paragraph.