IN the year 2020, there is no corner of the internet you can go to to escape Tumblr-style identity politics. Every single little personality trait is treated as some protected characteristic which must be protected from some imagined discrimination that some halfwits imagine they receive in order to be able to win this long game of oppression Top Trumps we are all now expected to play.
 
The most ridiculous of these imagined oppressions, pushed by the “fatcceptance” or “fat activist” movement is “fatphobia,” the idea that people are just as hard done-by for eating too many Kit-Kats and chips, as the Irish were when they were starved of potatoes altogether.

Working-class parents are feeding their kids chicken burgers and chips for £3 because no one can afford fresh veg and no one has time to cook it, but rather than do something about it, campaign for cheaper veg, growing veg in socialist allotments, or arguing for a shorter working day, it’s “let’s start being positive about Barry with his coronary heart disease, he looks amazing.”

I must point out that I am writing this as a man in his mid-20s, with a weight in stones to match my age — I am by almost every metric an obese man.