Don't you know there's a war on?

I have been bullied by my subconscious to write in the English language again. Ymddiheuriadau likes but I have just returned from a flying visit to the Capital of Wales. If I'd known there was Rugby on at the aptly named Principality Stadium, I wouldn't have bothered. On the train back from Ystum Taf/Llandaff North to Grangetown, after visiting a mate, a Rugby crowd got on at Queen Street Station. A short, rounder version of myself sat diagonally opposite and I thought that he like me was a Billy no mates but lo and behold he  had a wife and son. The son looked scared of him because he was pissed and the wife was watchful of others. When a crowd gets on, I pretend to be asleep but this loser must have known my plan as he proceeded to sneeze with gay abandon across the ail not once, not twice, but five times. I was dying to shout at him "Oy you dirty filthy bastard don't you know that coughs and sneezes spread diseases" but he looked harder than me so I turned my head further away and closed my eyes tighter. An observation that I make that the few times I have had to take the train is that some people do not seem to realise that they are sharing a public space with others. Whether this guy had his Rugby Supporters, Prince of Wales feathers, Daffodil Head feature on or whether he was pissed off  that his team had just scraped a win against Georgia, the Ray Charles tune that I was whistling as I got off at Grangetown. Sneezy and the other dwarfs were bound for Barry Island and possibly beyond. As I sauntered back, the reflection that I ruminated on as I often do is that common courtesy, politeness and manners in the public sphere are dead. Whether it is because so many people, myself included, live lives of banal anonymity that when it comes to match days, or weddings or funerals that there is a need to be seen and heard, I don't know.  

To use another well known 1941-45 epithet which we might do well to heed "Don't you know there's a war on?". There is a war a raging but sneezy and his pals on the shuffle me off this mortal coil special are in denial about it. They forget that George Bush declared a war on terrorism and now and again terrorism is having a pop back at us. Is this not a war? Some of us, the benefit parasites, the work shirkers are waging a war against the commercialisation of Christmas. Just because you work all week and then sneeze your head off on public transport on the weekends doesn't mean your better than us. Some are really looking forward to the holidays whilst the Islamic State and their lone wolves are looking forward to terrorising Christmas. Is this not a war? Some are waging a war against global warming, some, but not enough. Just sticking it in the recycling bag isn't going to cut the mustard Tonto! We are going to have to use less, buy less, consume less, waste less! We are going to have to ration ourselves and our families. We are going to have to pretend that there is a war on, a war against obesity, lethargy, apathy, self hatred, psychiatry, the medical model, bad manners and people who sneeze in public without holding a handkerchief to their trwyns.