The New Big Twenty

Feb 17th, 2005 | By
Category: Notes and Comment Blog

So, they’re making up a new Ten or rather Twenty Commandments, eh. Without the participation of the Archbishop of Canterbury. Well you can’t blame him, can you. Much as his job’s worth, probably, trying that on. Would be kind of like Charles suddenly up and throwing out all the ermine and gold carriages and sceptres and whatnot and drawing up a new plan of action. All these huge houses bursting with Rembrandts and Rollses and gewgaws to be turned into community centres. All Royals to get jobs as maintenance workers in housing estates or driving buses. Parliament henceforth to be opened by Sandra ‘Doc’ Tudge of 47 Ribena Lane, Kidderminster. Factories, hospitals, bridges and suchlike to be opened by the cast of The Archers on a rotating schedule. Well it wouldn’t fly, would it. The Queen would just tell him ‘I don’t think so’ and send him on a peace mission to that little island about seventy kilometres from that other little island that you can just barely see with a powerful telescope from that uninhabited island off Tierra del Fuego. Same with the Archbish. His boss wouldn’t be particularly pleased and flattered to have him re-writing the rules, would he. Kind of implies he didn’t do a good job the first time. Which of course he didn’t – Alabama judges to the contrary notwithstanding – but he doesn’t expect his own servants to tell him that, does he.

Whatever. That’s his problem. Nothing to do with us.

Thou shalt not own or drive or buy or covet or admire an SUV.

Neither shalt thou talk on thy cell phone [mobile] whilst driving thy small automobile.

Thou shalt not put pineapple on pizza.

Thou shalt not talk loudly, caper, squeal, grimace or argue whilst walking about in public.

Thou shalt not wear thy hair in the manner of Donald Trump.

Thou shalt not wear purple and yellow together, nay, not even if thou art a ‘Husky fan.’

Thou shalt not wear lycra spandex undergarments outside thine own house unless they are augmented with a seemly outer garment. Thou shalt not make a display of thy buttocks, whether on a bicycle, or running, or standing in a supermarket checkout lane.

Thou shalt not expectorate on the public right of way.

Thou shalt not make unseemly gestures with thy hands whilst at the wheel of thy small unobtrusive automobile.

Thou shalt not call women female dogs, nay, not even if thou art flushed with rage, or beside thy wits, or singing a rhythmic tuneless song, or pretending to be a ‘homey.’.

Thou shalt not turn up the volume and bass on thy small car’s sound system such that it causes passers-by to totter and bump into walls.

Thou shalt not serve sushi to guests who are not expecting it.

Neither shalt thou serve calimari, nor oysters, nor peanut butter and grape jelly on Wonder bread.

Thou shalt not go on a low-carb diet.

Thou shalt not talk about carbs and carb-counting.

Neither shalt thou serve thy guests low-carb meals that leave them hungrier after eating than they were before. Thou shalt provide pasta or rice or bread (not of the Wonder clan) or potatoes as I have laid it down for thee.

Thou shalt not tell stories about thy children, neither about thy dog. Thou shalt talk about interesting subjects, or be silent.

Thou shalt not floss thy teeth in the living room whilst guests are present, nor yet when they are absent. Thou shalt never floss thy teeth in the living room.

Thou shalt not vote for any present or former motion picture thespian for any political office whatsoever, nay, not even if it be country assessor in a rural county in South Dakota.

Thou shalt not take it upon thyself to invent new deities. Thou hast more than enough to deal with already.

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