Times Have Changed

In 1969, my last pre-teen year, I sat at my new high school desk breathing in unfamiliar smells, knowing only a handful of my new class mates. This was a turning of the tide for me with strict school rules, double periods, rugby, bus passes, the all-governing timetable. That life now seems impossibly long ago, an age when all four of my grandparents were living, my parents were in their thirties and with ambitions still, England were reigning football World Champions and glam rock was yet to be born. Research still meant cycling to the library with its hand-written index cards. Our television was black and white, our car was rusty and burned oil. A soot-blackened man hefted twenty sacks of coal to our bunker for winter fuel. Ice would form inside my bedroom windows. We chatted with our neighbours. I believed what I read and was told. Boys were boys and girls were girls.

Fast forward fifty years and life is markedly different, mostly due to mass communication and the ease of access to information. Technology has advanced ridiculously fast. Imagine a world without smart phones. It seems unthinkable in these days when people are glued to their screens, even throughout meal times. The first iPhone went on sale just twelve years ago and now most of the globe, even the dark, less developed corners, has a smart phone.

As well as bringing people together, mass communication has spawned unanticipated features. The rise of the keyboard warriors is evident in any comment thread you care to read. Hiding behind virtual anonymity they sling cruel and vicious words to the point of death threats. Trial by media on the stage of public opinion has become commonplace. Yet, perversely, a generation of so-called snowflakes now takes offence at even the gentlest criticism and appears unable to cope with the mildest setback. Celebrity status arrives cheaply. Warhol’s observation is truer than ever with fifteen minutes of fame now requiring zero talent, merely a trout pout, scant clothing and a large mouth, for either sex.

We ought to be revelling in online information, 24 hour news, databases and catalogues endowing armchair detectives with endless opportunities for research but still there is confusion. The distribution of disinformation, misinformation, lies and propaganda means, except for undisputable facts, that you have to pick and choose carefully in deciding what is the real truth. For example, respected geological research, through deep ice core samples, shows that the Earth has warmed and cooled in predictable cycles over thousands of years. Charts are easy to find showing we are now likely at the height of the current warming cycle yet are warned the end is nigh if we don’t all swap our gas-guzzlers for electric cars and must pay hefty taxes if we are not persuaded.

There are those, the elite, the Illuminati, the Bilderberg Group, who seek to propagate false agendas and further their own acquisition of wealth and power. Population control and mind control are hiding in plain sight if you look. We often mock conspiracy theorists but valid questions remain about JFK, 9/11, and other suspected cover-ups. We are now aware of endemic child abuse in the Church and the entertainment industry, and there are grave concerns and a degree of knowledge that it is rife in the ranks of governments past and present. We can find details with a few laptop clicks.

Last night I sought out interviews by and with the late great Clive James, Australian broadcaster, writer and raconteur, and before long I was deep down a YouTube rabbit hole watching clips of comedians and entertainers from the seventies, Household names in the UK such as Victor Borge, Les Dawson, Dave Allen... I ventured still further back and watched clips of Arthur Askey, George Formby, “two ton” Tessie O’Shea. Judging by the faces of the theatre crowds a great deal of mirth could be had watching people pulling funny faces playing a ukulele. Yes, times have changed.