Oooohhhh ahhhhhhh - whatever.

I’ve never liked fireworks. Even as a child the promise that, “The fireworks will be starting soon”, only elicited from me a, “m’eh”.

When I lived in Brighton I naturally made it on several occasions to the Lewes bonfire night festivities – where the night is celebrate rite large – cramming seemingly ever man, woman and child from the entire south coast into one small, but charming little town. It also helped that I had a girlfriend who’s parents lived there and her friend had a flat with a balcony that over looked the town from which we watched the various bonfire committee’s processions through the streets of Lewes.

See, Lewes takes it very seriously, with the entire town splintered into factions that individually host bonfires on which they burning a wide selections of effeges ranging from The Pope (a very popular choice) to whomever is currently the nations bete noire. I think Thatcher was burned over and over again, sadly not in real life though.

And, that was cool with me, but the emphasis in Lewes was very much on the Bonfire, not the fireworks. Now it seems to be all about fireworks, with the bonfire taking a back seat – probably because it takes preparation and doesn’t really satisfy our increasing desire for a quick fix thrill.

Anyhoo, fireworks… “ooohhhh pretty lights and noise”.

It used to be only on the 5th of November that we’d get this, but now it’s from mid October to mid December that every pig thick parent or socially troubled teen gets hold of these things and sets them off all fucking night.

In the past it was just an annoyance that I could ignore but now I have 2 dogs it’s night after night of these poor bastards being frightened silly – or in the case of edwaado, his dog barking incessantly. And we claim to be a nation of dog and cat lovers – nice way to treat them.

(Actually, only Dixon is nervous of fireworks. And she’s not as bad as she used to be, I put her on an aversion therapy course which basically means I have a bag of treats and every time a firework goes off she gets the treat, after a bit she starts to associate the firework with a good thing. Daisy seems to be blissfully unaware of the bangs and is currently chewing down on a bone).

I think my disinterest in fireworks and our cultures moronic love of them was beautifully captured in George A Romero’s hit and miss ‘Land of the Dead’. The living use fireworks to temporarily distract the zombies – zombies you see are brain dead, and therefore find fireworks thrilling.

Ironically enough, by the end of the flick even the zombies no longer find fireworks alluring, and get back to the job at hand, eating the brains of the living.