Sunday, 6 April 2014

We're all doomed.

I saw another of those tweets that annoy me today. Not because of it's content so much, but because of it's presentation. It was a picture of Karl Marx alongside a list of reasons he was "wrong". Politics aside, there was one statement in the list that claimed he'd never had a job. This was factually incorrect, one-hundred per-cent untrue, and was the only "fact" in the list, all the other points being opinions on the man's character and his beliefs.

At this point I'd just like to say that I am not a Marxist. I don't class myself as anything in a political sense and, through the medium of Twitter, I've been described as both a Communist AND a Fascist. Hows that for a wide spread? I see some good in the left and some good in the right but the pigheadedness of both camps, their stubbornness and inability to ever allow themselves to see that an idea from the "opposing team", no matter how clever or righteous, has any validity, reminds me of the schoolyard and I have no intention in getting embroiled in a row which will only result in me getting my dad, who is considerably bigger than their dads, to beat them all up.

The thing I dislike about Tweets such as the one I began this post by mentioning is that they portray an air of validity due to the clever use of photo-shop (other photo editing software packages are available) and, when viewed by weaker minded individuals, are taken as fact. Verbatim. Twitter says so, so so it is. Twitter also says God exists and that he doesn't and that Manchester City are the greatest team in the world but Manchester United are too. When we see a badly speld (sic) argument espousing the rights of the left, the wrongs of the right or the innocence of the guilty we disregard it. He can't spell, he's thick, ignore it. But slap a pretty picture on it and use a spell checker then even the pimpliest, socially inept and awkward fourteen year old can make a spurious statement sound like it was spilled from the lips of JFK, Churchill or Stephen Fry. But it's still bollocks.

After pointing out the factual error in what was otherwise, I'm sure, a very pertinent and even sided argument I was taken to task by someone that saw what they believed to be my defence of, in their opinion, a dangerous and subversive ideology. I'd made no statement for or against Marxism, nor put forward an opinion on the other, more subjective, points made. Just that Mr Marx had, at times in his life, worked. After being told I was wrong I had to wait a short while until the chap returned from a Google search to admit that okay, I was right, but Marx was lazy and had had to rely on the cash of others to survive when he had very little himself so his notions were invalid. Invalid they may be, I offer no argument either way, but this chap, who was perfectly eloquent throughout the conversation and quite plainly educated to a decent standard, had taken that "fact" that had been slipped into a list of opinions, opinions that he already clearly believed in, as being evidence. It took a moment or two for him to find out it wasn't the complete truth, but had someone not attempted to point out the error/misinformation he wouldn't have checked and would have believed it.

All this got me thinking, what if we really SHOULD be taking more notice of made up words set to pretty pictures. What if the answers are all around us? I'm not talking about Tweets, that would be silly. Enough monkeys banging away at enough typewriters would give us the complete works of William Shakespeare, along with a ridiculous amount of gibberish. It's the same problem with Twitter. Some really great, life affirming, advice or insightful political thinking will be in there, but they remain hidden from view under a huge pile of banana skins and monkey shit.

No, Twitter is useless. What we need is a more concise collection of pictures with made up words added. A more organised library of lazy literature. What we need is...


(Or Pinewood, or Bollywood, or any of those other, wonderful, dream factories.)

Think about it, everything that could possibly go wrong has already been tackled, and overcome, on the big screen.

Russia bullying the world? British? Send for Bond, James Bond. If they invade the USA call for the Wolverines. (The '80s Wolverines, not the weak, flabby, 2012 team.) Dead but don't yet know it? Find a troubled pre-teen and damage him psychologically for life. The Nazis are attempting to steal your Arc of the Covenant? Call Indy.

Actually, no, don't call Indy. Indy does nothing.

In fact, why wait for disaster or war before we ask the Producers for an appropriately heroic and successful ending? Why not just take it on ourselves to live our lives like movies? Just imagine...

The good guy always winning (yes, yes, I know, but Hannibal Lecter is pretty cool).

After losing him/her briefly to a despicable cad, crying in the rain and spoiling the puppy you bought together and who now you secretly despise, you will end up living happily ever after with the man/woman (Oooh, you realise you just said "man stroke woman" in your head? That's rude.) of your dreams.

The local naughty boys home would be transformed from a grey, dark, lonely place of desperation to a technicolour sing-a-long with impromptu dancing and jolly old food fights.

If you're being chased by a murderous psycopath and you're a female, with hymen intact, you'll know you're going to be okay. Your boyfriend will save you in the end, after being thought dead and forgotten about for a good half hour.

Evil genius has captured you? It's ok, he's bound to leave you in a room with a single, incompetent, armed guard while he goes to prepares his killer-piranha-fish-death-ray-o-matic-tron for use. But not until after he's told you about his plans and revealed the one weak spot in his metallic, island fortress.

We know it all. What is, was and what will always be. We know God is a kindly chap with a sense of humour and who looks very much like Morgan Freeman. We know if we want to be a champion free-runner all we need to do is locate a radioactive spider and let it bite us. No means of escape from a perilous situation in an office block? Jump out of the window screaming, there'll be a massive pile of boxes in a skip to break our fall.

By the way, America, don't you watch your own movies. Armageddon? Deep Impact? If Hollywood's taught us anything it's that as soon as you elect a president that looks anything like Morgan Freeman then we're all doomed!

As ever, I'm both rambling and digressing wildly. Flailing my literary arms frantically attempting to get my point across while sinking below the foamy waves of coherence. I apologise. Hopefully you already do your research and refuse to believe something just because it was attached to a picture of a dead dolphin or a despotic leader. If you don't, hopefully you now will. If you won't, then let me show you a little picture I've been working on.

Thank you all ever so much for taking the time to read my mental meanderings. And don't worry, folks, life isn't like the movies.

It's better than that.


No comments:

Post a Comment