I have of late, but wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth. And indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory.
This most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o’erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appeareth nothing to me but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason!
How infinite in faculties! How like an angel in apprehension. How like a god! The beauty of the world! The paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust?
Man delights not me, no, nor women neither.
Nor women neither.
I know it was dismal. But what has happened to ‘us’ and ‘them’ I ask only as increasingly I am finding it nearly impossible to tell the two apart. It’s been like that for some time but the odd pieces of individual brilliance and what have you appear to have only served to keep the wolf from the door.
The burden of expectation in now greater than it ever ever was. Seat prices match this. But how does this remotely justify our home fans at The Lane being so awful?
I wasn’t happy with today. Of course I wasn’t and who would be? But I’m truly saddened by the ‘Pot Noodle’ culture that seems to want to pollute reason. Online rubbish about ‘…back to Ramos’ , ‘…AVB is a [insert uninformed bile here]’ I can cope with. But at The Lane Tottenham Hotspur fans need to bit the bullet. Forget the pseudo pinko communist clap trap of being ‘outraged consumers’ , are you with us or against us?
I’ll run an analysis on the actual game in the morning, but I tell you this, Jesus wept – I’m more saddened by the performances off of the pitch today.