This T O T A L L Y private, elite, select club is so unbelievably exclusive that it will, I guarantee, be tongue-hanging-out-fashionable by Friday. The jet set will be splitting their face-lifts to get membership.
However, it is so devastatingly rarefied that yours will be the only name on the roll call.
There is no on-line join up because it is so de-rigueur. Nor is there a sign-in or membership fee. You don’t need an enigma-level password or to remember your mother’s maiden name. You don’t need to search in your memory for the place you used to go on holiday back in the day when holidays meant going to the beach and not being herded worse than cattle through barriers, into holding pens, hauling coffin-sized trolley suitcases full of rubbish you could do without for a fortnight – or half full so that you can return with holiday junk.
The Crap Gap Club exists in your mind and permeates your life and involves only you but you will be the epitome of infra-dig if you don’t join. You will be a social reject within a month like someone with an out-of-date mobile phone that can’t remotely control the fridge (woops that’s me). You don’t need to tell people about it every ten minutes (like on twitter) you don’t need to post photos of it (like facebook) No one will collate your private but freely given details and flog the resulting data to firms who will target you with their own special brands of shite. It’s not ‘secret little clubs of the invited and the chosen’ like LinkedIn. It’s just YOU and an absence of clutter – physical or mental.
There are rules of course.
- · You must not put up with abysmal so-called customer service from profiteering energy companies.
- · Clear STUFF out of your house/place of work (ornaments, keepsakes, paperwork which will never be looked at by you or anyone else).
- · Get angry (but not aggressive) when you hear people talking nonsense (racism, homophobia, misogyny, fracking).
- · Clear rubbish in all its forms from your life – be ever vigilant against its incursion (especially watch out for the effects of all fuzzy-edged TV advertising).
There are also levels of membership.
For example – Exclusive membership – let’s say tea and toast level - would be reserved for those who don’t know the names of more than two brands of cars and have never bought a handbag for any reason other than essential stuff fits in it.
Pinnacle membership – shall we call it – fresh homemade cake level – would be someone who can’t summarise the plot twists of more than two soap operas and is totally ignorant of the relationship scenarios in The Archers
Supersonic membership - I would like to name – freshly ground Colombian coffee level. Coffee that you made yourself though, not stuff you parade around the street in a corporate logo'd cup putting other citizens at risk of serious scalding. This membership level would be for those capable of sitting n a room without any electronic communication device on for – ooh let’s say 10 minutes.
There will be rewards too.
You are allowed at least one mean thought per month with absolutely no guilt. So for example I might treat myself to a fantasy in which Tony Blair is stuck in a sky scraper lift. The only other occupants of this small lift are three grown men who were children in 2003 and whose families were wiped out in the Iraq invasion and who are affected by powerful psychotic episodes as a result.
There must be a complementary physical clear out too (no I don’t mean with laxatives). Chuck out all the detritus from your house. Start with ornaments, then move on to knickknacks, clothes that don’t suit you/fit you, games your kids never wanted, kitchen equipment that actually make jobs harder or take too long to clean (electric carving knives) and things that never should have been invented (melon ballers). If your TV screen can be seen from the moon it’s too big, it has more influence on your family than you do – get rid.
There are little membership behaviours and tics – like the Masonic handshake - that will single you out. You may indulge these once you are properly affiliated to this non-affiliate non-organisation. For example, next time you are on a bus and someone is wearing so much make-up, hair spray and perfume or aftershave that your eyeballs start to dissolve and you find it hard to breathe – vomit on them.
Avoid the yap, clear the crap, zap the pap, shun the clap trap, join the CRAP GAP CLUB.
If you have a nervous breakdown and end up running down Princes Street naked but for a Tam O’ Shanter with your bagpipes swinging in the breeze because you suddenly found yourself alone with time to have a coherent thought - DON’T BLAME ME
This week’s recommended blog from the archives,
blog 12 Armageddon will not be televised