Tuesday 03 April 2012

Bad Gags

Would it be fair to assume the people I’d been meeting with had no respect for me based on this following situation?

We were sat talking at our – orange juiceless – lunch. One of the people present was saying how Princess Margaret (Note to editor: check this, not certain of which royal it was but it was an old woman who wasn’t the Queen) had visited a school. Despite none of the children, primary school age, knowing who she was they were all in awe of her and respectful even though it was just an old woman in a coat. This led to other people talking about meeting the great and the good – and Michael Gove. The culmination of which was someone telling us about old Tony Blairs coming to visit her educational department.

“Was he looking for weapons of mass destruction?” I interjected and waited for the polite ripple of laughter. There was no ripple of laughter. The anecdote continued about how it was all meant to be a last-minute surprise with no-one knowing about it yet there still being time enough to have planted questions for the little kids to ask TB.

“I take it none of them asked him to reveal where all these weapons of mass destruction he went to war on the back of were,” I tried again. Nothing. Just like fireworks, you should never go back to a gag once you have lit it and it has not gone off. Of course there is a sting in the tail. After my second doomed attempt the anecdote trickled on about the questions and the woman said, “of course none of them said anything embarrassing about Iraq”, cue laughter. I don’t know why I bother.

Bricking It

Thanks to the lacklustre pace at which this blog is being produced I am struggling on being able to remain ‘cutting edge social commentary’ as I know we all have classified me in the past. So it goes. However I can’t ignore the most pressing news story in a country struggling to cope with a tyrannical government privatising thoughts as we trudge through times of austerity: a woman wrote a big-headed piece for The Daily Mail.

I am as guilty of the next person of drawing attention to Samantha Brick’s article today. As long as the next person isn’t the editor of The Daily Mail. I didn’t know the frenzy that social networks would be getting into when I clicked on the link on my Twitter feed and then reposted it onto my own Facebook. I just thought it was funny that someone who was clearly somewhat cretinous would think that people might not be her friend for that very reason and think it was because they were intimidated and threatened by her beauty.

Admittedly, I – objectively – thought it was quite funny that I thought she was in no way a remarkable looking woman. But, that was part of what I found delightfully delusional about the obvious sense that people didn’t like here because she was a fucking imbecile. I don’t find it unbelievable that she has been fawned over for years, some people do not look beyond blonde hair when identifying physical characteristics they seek in a mate. But let’s not start buying into hating someone for being confident-yet-delusional eh kids?  As for the anecdote about a friend not trusting her with her husband because something might happen “were the right circumstances in place”. I hate to break it to Samantha Brick but that does not separate her from a large percentage of everyone in the world. And the ‘right circumstances’ generally involve wanting to do it, thinking they can get away with it and alcohol: not the irresistible pull of  psiren called Samantha Brick.

It seemed that the attitude of people was slightly less forgiving than my own. Yes, it wasn’t what people hope someone will be saying about women in the workplace; and certainly not something one wants to hear an attitude a woman extolling: and by this I mean I think the inequalities between men and women are a far bigger issue in society than a perceived woman-to-woman sexism, especially when the woman writing about it seems to be a bit of a cloth-head. I didn’t know if it was me being inclined to do so or not, but I thought The Daily Mail were conveniently side-swiped in all of this. They clearly know how provocative columnists and seem to make a habit (and business) of publishing twats talking shit about balls. Given that the way they publicise, edit and indeed accept articles means their editorial policy and ethos as a paper should be receiving venom, rather than aiming it all at Brick.

The whole thing is kind of pulling me back from a precipice; I had just started to relent a little bit in my hatred of The Daily Mail. Maybe everyone was right, it is ok just to see their endless celebrity news (pictures of Rihanna, pictures of female celebrities being too fat or too thin despite it being fucking irrelevant and inciting negativity about literally every single human form possible). Maybe I should just treat it as a guilty pleasure like lots of other people – who definitely aren’t passively absorbing some of the horrible ideology of the paper on some level. Here endeth the sermon.

She is a dick though.

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