Sunday, September 4, 2011


People are always moaning about their lot. ‘Oh, my arm’s been sore all week’, they whinge to their boss. ‘Oh, my mummy never hugged me’, they sob to their analyst. These people make me sick. I don’t care how tough you have it; there is always someone worse off than you out there. Someone worse off with their sleeves rolled up trying to do something about their situation. Take Glyndwr Michael.

Glyndwr’s dad cut his own throat after becoming unemployed and the barely literate 15 year old Glyndwr had to sign the death cert. This formative experience cast a terrible shadow over Glyndwr causing him to become depressed and eventually homeless. In January 1943, deciding his dad was right and that life was indeed a load of bollocks, Glyndwr drank a bottle of rat poison and died in an old warehouse in London’s King’s Cross.

So there we have Glyndwr, after a life of misery, lying dead in an empty building. It doesn’t get much worse does it? But did Glyndwr let that hold him back? Hell no! Glyndwr got up off his rear end and did his bit for Queen and country. Posing as a drowned British intelligence operative, Glyndwr had his body dumped off the coast of Spain. Knowing he’d end up in the hands of the Nazis, Glyndwr cunningly had forged documents placed upon his person. These documents gave Mr. Hitler and his chums the impression that the Allies were planning to attack via Greece so off they went, leaving Sicily unprotected. The Allies took Sicily without much bother in August 1943 and the knock on effect was a disorganised Nazi push that eventually led to defeat for Germany. PWNED! And all thanks to Glyndwr’s can do attitude!

Glyndwr Michael took a look at his life, saw a dead misery-guts of a fella and decided to pull his socks up and regain some bloody dignity! So, think about Glyndwr Michael next time you’re considering staying in bed all day just because you overheard someone you fancy at work say that you look like a Cro-Magnon savage.

No comments: