I'm a Twat

In my first two posts here I directed a stream of unremitting invective at all of the people of the world. I have called them idiots and twats, described them as pointless and insipid, and implied that they are shallow and self-deluding. Now I'm going to turn the gun on myself, as it were. I am going to assert that not only am I a twat too but that I am the biggest twat of them all.

People who have read my other posts may well have realised this already; there is plenty of evidence there. For a start, I am about as pompous as twelve posh school headmasters put together. Witness the phrase "it is my contention" in the first post. Witness also the context in which I used the word 'witness' in this and the previous sentence. Consider the Shakespeare quoting in the first post (incidentally, I have never read A Winter's Tale; I had read that quote in the paper. Look, here it is:

http://www.economist.com/world/britain/displaystory.cfm?story_id=9653083

But did I make it clear at the time that that was where I found it? No... because I'm a twat). I'm sure you can find countless other examples of my pomposity. In fact, let's have a competition! Leave a comment on this post citing all the instances of pomposity or general twatishness you can find on this blog and we'll see who gets the most.

Of course this problem of mine extends well beyond this blog. I have the love life of a giant panda that works nights. I buy the Big Issue and then - rather than putting it in my bag - carry it round in my absurdly clammy hand so other people can see it and think well of me. More damning still, I laugh raucously at my own jokes; louder than anyone else. I not only don't remember people's names but don't listen when I am told them in the first place. I sneer unreservedly at people who are better able at enjoying themselves than I am (again, see my first post). I am a snob about music, food, books, tv, films, words and how people decorate their rooms. I judge people by the clothes they wear. I spend most Sundays telling people the endings of films with big twists in them. I like to toss foreign coins to beggars. Before the introduction of the electronic system I used to spend time forging seat reservation slips so I could have whole train carriages to myself. I'm a founder member of a group that organises annual trips to Center Parcs for Holocaust deniers. I have a Stanley knife that I use exclusively for scratching rented DVDs before I return them. If I know that I will be getting on a crowded bus or tube train I don't brush my teeth that morning and have a plate of scotch eggs, raw onions and Flamin' Hot Monster Munch. If I'm having a meal out with a large number of people I will pay roughly £3 less than I know to be the total cost of my order. I take a couple more bags off baggage carousels in airports than I, strictly speaking, own. I also like to purchase small quantities of drugs before I go on holiday, which I sneak into the hand baggage of my travel companions in order to free up space in the hotel room.

I know what you're thinking: "Who doesn't? This is the sort of stuff everyone gets up to now and again. Don't be so harsh on yourself!" And you'd probably be right. I suppose the important thing is to be aware of our failings. "Know thyself," said the Ancient Greeks. I think that's what I've been promoting here. Deep down we know we're all twats and it is realising this wherein our best hope lies.