So I was in my local supermarket when I saw this week’s copy of The Spectator magazine. Imagine my surprise when I see myself on the cover! Or, at least, a grotesque picture of what some poor misguided artist thinks I should look like.
For those who can’t see the picture for some reason, it shows a gaunt young man with well groomed hair surrounded by a smorgasbord of supplements and cosmetics. He is covered by a towel around his waist revealing an extremely thin body with wiry muscles, and is fixated with his reflection in a murky puddle in front of him. Into this puddle he pours the contents of a Huel brand shaker bottle.
So as the title of the post alludes I think the article is pretty disingenuous and full of contradictions, but journalistic integrity seems to be a thing of the past and I won’t lament it here. I just wanted to share this article with this lovely, diverse group of wonderful people, because it struck me as funny that The Spectator thinks we’re all vanity-stricken, pill-popping, self-absorbed 20-something white males whose gym budgets are only exceeded by the fortunes we fritter in the local salon.
At least they say there’s no such thing as bad press?