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.
