The War On Hyberbole

Forget the death, maiming, destruction and ruinous expense: war can also be an opportunity to photograph your dog

We’re at war. I’m sure you noticed.

There are the usual military wars but, for people who like to call talk radio stations at 4am or visit their golf club bar to complain, the real wars are closer to home.

For example, if you’re the type of person who, before forming an opinion, wonders “What would Jeremy Clarkson think?”, you will have noticed that there is a War on Motorists going on. Don’t worry, car fans. I live two minutes from the A12, and I can tell you that you’ve already won this one. My advice to militant motorists: rather than whining about speed cameras and fuel tax and congestion charges and cycle lanes and car parking charges in the letters pages of local newspapers, open up a second front. Tarmac over the Eurostar line and invade France. Just as long as you promise not to come back.

The Mail tells us that the government is busy recruiting ex-ministers for a War on Dole Cheats. I approve of less thieving, but Labour ex-ministers of all people should know that it’s easier to start a war than to win one. Note also that Dole Cheats have been abusing the well-intentioned Tanks for the Homeless scheme for so long that they’re armed and ready to fight for what isn’t actually theirs. Well, they would be, but The Jeremy Kyle Show is on in half an hour, and after that the chippy’s open.

A quick scan through today’s news also shows that there are wars of varying believability being waged on our behalf on antibioticscybercrime, gold, de-legitimization, and media center software. It’s not an exaggeration, because they are exactly like real wars! If someone has to die so that media center software can be defeated, one day our kids will thank us.

Also in the news: Lance Armstrong has declared war on the French hotel industry. Either that or he complained about some French hotels; but that doesn’t sound quite as exciting when you’re writing a headline.

Among blogger armchair generals you’re never more than a couple of posts away from a fictitious War on Something. For example, over at loopy United Liberty, the dastardly US Government is waging a war on dogs, in which we must take sides:

A world where drugs are widely available legally would be supremely preferable to a world in which I have to fear that a SWAT team will break down my door and kill my pets

it concludes. I’m curious to see half a dozen sausage dogs in camouflage jackets trying to load a mortar, but I can’t say I’m rooting for either side, based on this article.

You could say – wait for it – that I don’t have a dog in this fight.

With everyone – and now their pets – currently conscripted in some media-invented war or other, our armed forces are going to be overstretched. I have a way to cut the workload: we can beat the internet’s lazy writers at their own game by declaring a War On Hyberbole.

There may be a million-strong Blogger Army against us, doubtlessly even now claiming they would die typing for the right to exaggerate, but I’ve got a plan to win that can’t fail.

1. We wait for one of the Blogger Army to announce that he or she is the General.

2. Ten comments later the rest of them will be far too busy complaining that this is exactly what Hitler would have done to fight against us*.

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* Ironically, on this occasion they would be correct.

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