...or ‘the dubious state of Western morals’
...or why I’m championing spinning tops, merry-go-rounds and...erm...wheels
Over the course of the past week I have found myself faced with two people (each on a separate occasion) on the verge of tears. One was upset about the state of emergency declared in Nigeria as protests over fuel subsidies became horribly violent; the other felt his happiness was unjustly jeopardised by having been asked to take some household responsibility. Life’s hard.
Amidst adamant protestations of ‘but I’ve got to just think of my happiness; the main thing is that I’m not happy and I have to do whatever is necessary to make sure I’m happy (sorry, I missed that, were you saying something about being happy?)...I shouldn’t have to empty the bins, I don’t use the kitchen (I shouldn’t have a teenage daughter on my hands here, I didn’t give birth to one)... Those pictures of Argentina in the corridor make me feel unwelcome (those pictures are of Paris, but all hell might have broken loose had I pointed that out)... I don’t agree that in signing a contract I make a commitment that I should work/try to keep; it’s like marriage, if someone’s not happy you get divorced...’
...WAIT A SECOND, I can pardon – feel sorry for, even – the mild social retardation and unfortunate psychotic tendencies that said subject eventually admitted to, but viewing a get-out clause as a go-to over putting in some effort is just not right. I am not against divorce; that would be ludicrous. Relationships break down, differences become irreconcilable, situations change. But ‘for better or for worse’ doesn’t mean ‘if it gets worse, find something better... I deserve to be happy...Time for a U-turn...’ a little revolution, if you will.
And I don’t doubt that said subject felt he was staging a mini revolution in mustering the balls to drop us a facebook message (apparently acceptable because he also sent an email; not a human conversation, no, but an honourable email...copied and pasted from the facebook message) announcing the termination of his contract a whopping 10 months early, because he’d found something better; something that would make him happier... ‘What’s wrong with that???’
And thus, I am beginning to worry (am I massively late on the uptake of this one?) about the moral state of our society; a worry infinitely heightened last night when I watched Mamma Mia while on the cross-trainer.
The thing about the cross-trainer – Aquaterra gym’s finest – is that it is facing 4 screens, all showing different channels. So whilst despairing at the shambolic personal conduct-promoting Mamma Mia, out the corner of my eye I was also able to see Kim Kardashian upset and complaining on one screen, and footage of Nigerian rioters upset and complaining* on another (in the far screen I could also see a naked baby sheep being pulled out of a huge woolly sheep’s arse, but that is another story, and not one of any relevance to my rant).
There are plenty of reasons to be upset and complaining: the world’s in a fucking mess. But I don’t think that esaid subject is even remotely aware – nor in the slightest wants to be aware (after all, the words ‘I’m not interested in other countries’ did escape his mouth, though I think that was more in reference to the Argentina/Paris pictures** than anything else) – of the world beyond his peripheral vision, let alone the rest of it. The blinkers are on, and if me myself and I ain’t happy, then things just ain’t right. He’s not the only one, Kim Kardashian was certainly in the same boat, and I probably shouldn’t point the finger (though doing so works well for the whole ‘anecdote leading onto bigger picture’ format I’d thankyou-please like this blog to take). I’m a hypocrite for being critical at all: I was blinkered watching Mamma Mia (sweet baby Jesus why?!), pondering said subject and a blog post, when my attention really should have been on the travesty that had my mother close to tears on Christmas morning.
As the beginning of 2012 sees the Nigerian people face a very real revolution as they clash with (in spite of everything, the ever-amusingly-named) Goodluck Jonathan, so too do a series of celebrity break-ups abound in the press; a culture (celebrity-dom) which terrifyingly thrives (because we thrive on it) in the West. I know, because I read gossip news (there, I said it); hey, I even write it.
When the blinkers are on, and it’s only out of the very corners of our eyes that we can just about make out the beginnings of the bigger picture (and/or a naked baby sheep being pulled out of a huge woolly sheep’s arse), perhaps THAT’S when a mini revolution could come in handy. We could all do with a dose of precious perspective, and a wise man (Fred Durst, so let’s just say the line between wise and not wise is a fine one) once said: ‘Take a look around’: If our peripheral vision is limited (laugh all you want, horses, with your eyes on the sides, seeing all around; at least we humans have dexterity; how d’you like that?!), then maybe a bit of a U-turn could do the trick...check out what’s to the right and the left...go wild, a 360... I’m talkin’ ‘bout a revolution***.
*Choice of wording here purely for effect. Equating the two – even if simply lexically – does pain me.
** Fitting, as Buenos Aires is oft labelled ‘The Paris of the South’
*** Tracy Chapman: debatably wiser than Durst.
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