I remember when my mum forced me to go to school, eat vegetables and do my homework; slavery I called it! Now that I have grown up I am free to do whatever my mum forced me to do. Today I am as free as David Blunkett's dogs. I can work as little or as much as I want...

...but I will not be able to afford a house.

I am a slave of the 'Oldies'. David Blunkett's dogs won't be able to afford a house either and will forever live at the pace dictated by their patron. Like them I am not free to buy a house, but I am free to believe that I can. I am free to believe that I am a powerful eagle flying on top of the infinite ocean, when I am actually just a fat kebab-eating pigeon wandering around the Thames. My freedom allows me to choose between two options:
  • either I freely decide to be a slave of the 'Oldies'
  • or I have the liberty to realise that I am not free to buy property.
As the economic playing field exists, liberty is reserved for a few lucky ones who were born in the right place at the right time. The pigeon cannot turn into an eagle as it will never stop eating the kebab leftovers. The leftovers are the inherited policy Oldies leave us with, which continuously skews the politics and economics playing field in their favour. The vegetables my mum forced me to eat, the daily attendance to school and the continuous homework have helped me to become an educated and healthy member of society. However, I will continue to be a slave for ever; that is my free choice unless...

...Unless Unless Unless I vote out my slave-drivers at the 2010 election.

First chance for us in maybe 10 years.

Miss this chance and in ten years I'll be an oldie myself:
a degenerate property obsessive.