Doctor Dave holds court

Doctor Dave has been at his most annoying during the entire weekend. He seems to have squatted at the Oak since Thursday night only leaving to frequent other licensed premises relentlessly preserving his already high water table. He returns to the Oak in the early evening over served, singing badly brandishing his chewed copy of the Guardian but resolutely determined to myther. 

Depending upon which buttons are pressed he is soundly prepared to kick off. Firstly, the usual targets suffer the pre-emptive strike: Bush, Blair, Police and Social injustice. Having, for most of his working life having been in direct contact with the global nonsense that exists, ‘funding the world food deficit’, ‘the control, treatment and spread of aids in Africa’ and ‘the political shuffling, infantile points scoring, unremitting corruption within the Western providers’ he has a knowledgeable base where he can, effortlessly, destroy any foolish, feeble, ignorant opposition. It is much easier to capitulate, comply, agree thus supporting his argument completely rather than offering any form of resistance. The hope is that he will ‘dry’ and eventually ‘shut the fuck up’, but this tactic very often falls on deaf ears. He is adept at swiftly changing the rules of debate, without difficulty, effortlessly switching to control the direction of the dialogue to his advantage. Attempting to sound the tiniest bit interested I endeavoured to ask ‘what he felt about the phoney, clearly transparent interest of celebrities, especially ‘rock stars’, who become involved with the catastrophic aftermath of natural or manmade disaster, worthy causes such as ‘world famine’, ‘preventable disease’, ‘murderous dictators’, ‘tornadoes, floods, earthquakes and bush fires’. “Well”, he began, “as soon as Bob Geldof became feckin’ obsessed by those frightful images emerging from Ethiopia he nurtured a craving, along with that Scottish weasel, Midge fuckin’ Ure, to put things right, enlighten the worlds lack of perception, prick the conscience but also, to stick his face into Thatchers’: Ethiopia was doomed. Along with all of the other crusty, ageing pop stars he triumphantly managed to bankrupt the country after two years. All of the food that tumbled and gushed into the country effectively destroyed the culture that had existed before, either through neglect but mainly because their own indigenous meagre efforts at cultivation became obsolete. The farmers quickly forgot how to extract any substance from the land due to these ‘do good, vacuous, self promoting tossers’ who assumed that by simply ‘giving’ the people ‘food’ was the only solution, instead of practical agricultural policies, building irrigation systems underpinned by  proper soil management programmes. Well done Bob, you have achieved more than Bush has ever done in his deliberate attempts to destroy a country’s’ economy. That preposterous, opinionated, jumped up fuckin’ Bono repeated the same mistake twenty years later. That arrogant, tantric shagger Sting has probably condemned more rain forest than he has actually saved and Billy fuckin’ Connelly should restrict his energies to telling vulgar jokes. Why don’t these people keep their fuckin’ noses out; raise the money, by all means but allow the professionals to spend what they have raised!” There were silent nods of agreement around the pub. Most people definitely were pleased to see Lord Bob of wankerville, Saint Bono of ‘up my own arse’ and that turd Sting slapped down by Dave, who in one brief tirade had won back his audience. Not content with one victory he reverted to type and continued to pester the life out of anyone who unluckily caught his eye. The pub emptied within 30 minutes.

On Sunday, I ‘assertively’ cornered Chris to offer my decision about the stage 2 head. He smiled, informed me that he had already started to tinker with it. “Don’t worry mate, we’ll get it right, the bastards won’t beat us”.