Life is a game of consequences. Think not of the consequences, and you will suffer.

The world is divided, as always, into two sorts of people: those who see consequences, and those who don’t.

A major problem, however, is that the at times engaging (and at others infuriating) willingness of the consequence deniers to, um, deny the bleeding obvious consequences of their concrete fluffiness means that the rest of us are left unaided to do something about such denial.

This makes us angry. It is an anger based on the broken aerial, or the empty petrol tank, or the empty Treasury, or the bank bailin, or the overfull lavatory caskette that must be emptied.

Pointing out such needs makes the condescending denier observe, “My God, you really are a very angry person aren’t you? What you need is people like me to help you chill out”.

These folks, I have to tell you, can be anything from banking quants, internet fraudsters, university intellectuals, retailers and yoga teachers to doctors, psychiatrists, self-help book wankers, gymnasium makreteers and self-appointed paedofinders.

Such people think not of the consequences, and yet they do not suffer. They merely preach in that patronising, smiley, happy-clappy way they have. Bless you my child, for you are misled by the wrong sort of company you keep, and corrupted by the media you read.

But at the end of the process, one realises that the choice one has is not a particularly fulfilling one. For the choice – and it is hugely forced – seems increasingly to be between those who insist on the zero evidence one needs for the successful levitation of the Albert Hall; and the totally opposed group who insist on the zero evidence one needs to embrace full-on neoliberal materialism.

As I keep onandonandonandon writing here, there is between these two trenches a massive No Man’s Land where all the rest of us want to do is have a harmless game of footie.