Brighton Lights: Bad things happen when news is good

The good news is that Britain is among the world’s best in the quality and availability of their food. The bad news is that we are eating so abundantly, we cannot buckle our belts or cram ourselves into our tights.

We really love our food, and it is so plentiful that we think nothing of sharing it with our beloved pets. After all, aren’t they supposed to be our best friends? Indeed, Fido and Fluffy have become so fat they can’t squeeze through the doggy door and Polly and Tweety have expanded so much they have no room to fly around their cages.

Thelma the hamster can no longer manage to run on her wheel because when she climbs into it, she gets stuck.

As long as you don’t get stuck in the bathtub, you are fine

Sadly, obesity has become a filthy word these days, and we have destroyed egos and smashed self images like glass all because media models are toothpick-thin and our doctors are telling us that a skeletal shape is a healthy one.

I think it is time to face facts. The truth is that it is hard to be both English and thin. Besides, boney people are NOT pretty. Angular bodies are no fun to hug and they cause real injuries in crowded elevators. I see nothing wrong with a population with a good appetite. How can it be wrong to lust after a generous helping of bubble and squeak or salivate at the very thought of fish and chips? Why refuse a second helping of plum pudding, or turn our nose up at a pork pasty? They taste a lot better than tofu and sprouts.

It is time to stop excoriating people for their flabby arms and wiggly bums. Why can’t we admire drooping tummies and thick thighs? Instead of calling the portly gluttons, let’s think of them as ‘English’.

In the olden days, Renoir and Rubens loved women with a bit of extra flesh on them. In King Arthur’s court, great big men were hot items.

Perhaps too much body mass is bad for our health, but who defines too much? I admit that if you cannot get through the front door, you have a problem, but as long as you don’t get stuck in the bathtub, you are fine to me. I love being cuddled by a soft, curvy guy who is bursting his seams. And I wouldn’t mind walking his fat little puppy either. After all, if a guy is chubby, he obviously knows good food … and that, according to the latest statistics, is something to be proud of. It is British.

“Why must it always be a contest between fornication, obesity and laziness, and celibacy, fasting and hard labour?”
– Martin Fischer