Fear Itself

Ok, I've had to throw together a quick last-minute response to the over-blogging of both CERN- and UARS-related stories (don't believe me? Check Veni Vidi Blogavi), so here goes nothing.

Having started re-reading a book by my favourite misanthropic author, Charlie Brooker, and coming across his section on his fear of spiders, I've decided to write a piece on my work on my own fear: mottephobia.

For those of you not comfortable with Greek, or simple words, mottephobia is a fear of moths or butterflies. To those non-sufferers, I'm sure you're laughing hysterically now: why wouldn't you be? Well, you guffawing pleb, it's 'cos they're terrifying. These are creatures of pure evil, trust me. Have you ever looked at a moth up close? I have. It's a hobby. It'd send a normal, otherwise well-adjusted individual into hysterics, no doubt. You need only watch Silence Of The Lambs, and look at the Death's-Head moth that is forced down the throats of Buffalo Bill's victims, to be unable to move under orange lights in the dead of night, as those dust-cloaked nightmares begin to swarm...

And butterflies? No better! They get tangled in your hair (a tribute commonly given to bats), and fly right at your face, and... god it doesn't bare thinking about. And weirdly, I'm not scared of spiders. So, here's my solution.

Listen up David Cameron. Your popularity will sky-rocket.

Every child, aged 10, is given a list of phobias, which they then fill in to state whether they have it or not. Then, these are filled away, sitting and waiting, until... aged 18? Looking for a job? Well, have we got the job for you!

Not scared of wasps? You go round to a phobic's house or garden, net in hand, and sort that bastard out! We set up a special, easy-to-remember number, which you can call in such an emergency.

Consider this:
Has a bat flown out of your light fitting, turning you into a shrieking mess? Call the Fear Hotline, we'll send a non-sufferer out to fix it, and it'll all be very reasonably priced. The country will sleep easy knowing that a man with a rolled-up newspaper can be sent out at a moment's notice.

So that's the plan. If you like it, go through your jackets and find some loose change, send it my way... just watch out for spiders in the pockets.