Monday 8 September 2008

Is it 1979 already? II

I also hate the public sector. A lot.

And no, I'm not having any of this shite about them doing "essential, difficult" jobs, blah blah blah. My old man is a truck driver - he works seemingly thousand of hours doing a boring, tough and occasionally dangerous job, but his ilk don't get simpering tributes from the BBC and the trade unions. That too is an essential job, because the economy depends upon stuff being transported across the country.

How about fisherman? Now that looks bloody tough. And not only because I'm not quite as impervious to seasickness as I like to think. Cold, wet, dangerous, decidedly unprofitable - and that's before the evil empire get going. Also essential, because food is somewhat important, and fish is tasty.

I could go on, but you get the picture. Somehow, I doubt that most public sector workers, sat doing pointless non-jobs in comfortable offices with massive pensions (all paid by us), disproportionately rising pay, a culture that rewards skiving - and the fuckers still complain!

There are some jobs in the world I'd dearly love to do, and would take a pay cut for. Being a professional footballer would be nice; a cricketer even more so. I still haven't quite given up on being an astronaut. But how good would it be to be in charge of deciding the size and cost of the public sector?

It'd be a bloodbath. An abattoir. Across the country, lazy bastards would be turfed out of their non-jobs and told to bloody well go and get a proper job like the rest of us. Whole industries that suck gazillions of pounds of money from the productive (private) sector into the unproductive (public) sector would be closed down. The squeals of pain from the unions, the BBC, the Guardian would provoke near-orgasmic joy. I'd love it. It'd be less a job, and more a calling...

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