Why The Weak Shall Inherit The Earth

Jesus Christ famously uttered the words: “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”

Now Jesus, in my reckoning, was a top lad. He turned water into wine, gave out free grub to the hungry masses, and spent his time with prostitutes, sinners and other degenerates. In the part of South London I hail from, that would have made him a “legend” and a “top level shagger”.

He also had some pretty great ideas that have stood the test of time and come to define the moral and ethical framework of the entire Western world.

But in this instance, something’s clearly been lost in translation. Because in today’s society, it’s not “blessed are the meek”, but “blessed are the weak”.

In the West, we worship weakness. We celebrate those who wallow in misery and self-pity, and we condemn those who show courage and resilience.

And in social media, we have the perfect environment to sit and compare how sad and oppressed we all are. I could make a joke about the fat people of the world uniting under the banner of PLM (Plump Lives Matter) and shouting about how being morbidly obese is harder than being black in the 1920s. You thought the KKK were bad? Try going up against thin people.

Except this isn’t a joke. Last year, the global beauty giant Dove partnered with Zyanha Bryant, an obese BLM activist, in a valiant effort to promote “fat liberation”. What does this mean? Take it from Bryant herself:

“My belief is that we should be centering the voices and the experiences of the most marginalized people and communities at all times… So when I think about what fat liberation looks like to me, I think about centering the voices of those who live in and who maneuver through spaces and institutions in a fat body.”

Centering the voices of those who “maneuver through spaces” in a fat body. Are these activists trying to steal comedians’ jobs?

But in a way, I’m as bad as everyone else. I don’t want to hear about people overcoming adversity and achieving great things. Don’t oppress me with the idea that there’s more I could be doing with my life. Me and my D-cup chest wish to be left alone, thank you very much.

Taking charge of your life means tough decisions. It means uncomfortable conversations. It means sacrifices. And those things are bloody hard. You know what’s far easier? Being a keyboard warrior. From the comfort of your sofa, you can end racism. You can sort out the conflict in the Middle East. It’s quite amazing. You don’t even need to read about the decades-long history of this endlessly complicated and tragic conflict. Just learn the slogans, attend a protest, regurgitate said slogans - and you’ll be changing the world in no time.

And look, I don’t think these keyboard warriors are bad people. They’re ignorant, but well-intentioned. What gets my goat are our leaders; well-educated, well-informed, but with spines that seem to identify as blancmange.

Take British Prime Minister Keir Starmer, who appeared to have some kind of aneurysm when asked in a radio interview what a woman was, but later found the conviction to label every citizen worried about the unprecedented scale of immigration into this country as “far right”.

Take Cambridge University, who capitulated to the gender-confused blobs among its student body after they threw a tantrum at Jordan Peterson being offered a fellowship, but later defended his professor Primyavada Gopal when she tweeted “White lives don’t matter.”

And take Penny Mordaunt, the former MP who insisted that “trans women are women” in a Parliamentary speech, despite being Minister for (you guessed it) Women. You’d think an understanding of basic biology would be a requirement for that role, but apparently not.

Honestly, it feels too easy being a comedian in these demented times. You don’t even need to write jokes. You just write down what actually happens and then repeat it.

But unfortunately, the way we worship weakness in our society - that’s no joke. It’s undermining and threatening everything we hold dear, and we need to do something about it before it’s too late.