Blobbiness

You've heard all the govermental hand-wringing about the 'obesity epidemic', haven't you? And about chavvy binge-drinking and its middle-class equivalent, the Chardonnay-swiggers? And now they've all but criminalised smoking, there aren't many methods of enjoyable self-abuse left. (Although it's said that senior police officers are now in favour of the legalisation of hard drugs, so it's not all bad.)
Anyway, not to get sidetracked, the main target of today's rant is blobbiness, mental as well as physical. The two seem to go hand in hand - listen to someone who is overweight moaning about how tired they are. If you suggest that they lay off the cream cakes and go for a walk, they look at you with the same horrified expression as if you'd told them to throw their television out the window, which would probably kill them anyway.
It's interesting to note that only in the developed world are the rich people thin - and the poor people fat. Now why is that? Well, food is cheap, especially the unhealthy kind, and British people unlike say, the Italians, seem very unenthusiastic about the quality of what they shove down their throats. As long as it takes no longer than five minutes from freezer to microwave to table, and tastes sufficiently fatty/salty/sugary we really don't give a fuck. And we just LOVE cookery programmes on the telly, but only as a spectator sport.
Our cultural decline, if that's what is is, seems to have taken us into a state of mind where we expect everything to be easy. We really don't think that we should have to make an effort for anything, ever, including our health. People really do seem to want an easy solution to every problem - fat? take a pill, depressed? take a pill. Take a pill, or ....... what? Drink yourself into oblivion, it's cheap enough. The more we have, the more we want, and the more unhappy we are when we get it, and it still doesn't make us happy. Will we ever learn that anything worth having doesn't come easy?