Category: Social Media

Happy Thanksgiving!

Today is Thanksgiving in Canada.  It’s a day when families gather together and give thanks that extended family gatherings (a la Clark and Ellen Griswold) happen only two or three times a year.  However, somewhere between cousin Edna’s ugly kid feeding a box of Breton Originals™ to the dog and Uncle Benjamin passing out — before dinner — from the wine, take a minute and get serious.

This is a day of Thanksgiving and, despite all our whining and bellyaching, we Canadians have a lot to be thankful for.  Sometimes, we take those things for granted.  At the risk of being trite and just a little sugary, I still think Franklin Roosevelt said it best when he talked about Four Freedoms.  Just as a reminder to all of us, here are the Norman Rockwell paintings that depict them.

Freedom from Want

 

Freedom of Worship
Freedom of Speech
Freedom from Fear

Happy Thanksgiving!

Lying to Ourselves about Meredith Kercher

Along with most people on this planet, I don’t care who killed Meredith Kercher.  (Took a nanosecond to remember her, didn’t it?)  It’s a shame that a young, promising life was snapped off suddenly and violently before it had a chance to begin, but after that, I’m done.  It sounds pretty callous but I’m only saying what most people would, given a moderate dose of sodium pentathol.  It’s increasingly apparent that the victim is not the focus here.  At best, she rates a sentence or two in the 24/7 media cycle, but mostly it’s just her name and sometimes not even that.  I don’t wish to denigrate anyone’s tragic loss but the facts remain.  Nor am I here to defend or decry the cable news carnival that’s the attending physician at the resurrection of this four-year-old news story.  Like most people, if they were honest, I have no problem with tabloid news.  I think they’re scummy, but Rupert Murdoch and Oprah Winfrey didn’t get to be gabillionaires by denying the people what they want.  The thing I’m concerned about is not justice or integrity but honesty.

To even the casual observer, it’s obvious somebody’s been lying in Perugia, Italy.  I know very little about the original crime or the case against the accused, but when there are two conflicting versions of a murder, I’m old enough to know it’s not just a difference of opinion.  Ever since Cain forswore brotherly love and did the nasty to Abel, people have been trying to weasel their way out of murder charges; that’s to be expected.  Therefore, at this point, there’s no way to get at the truth.  It’s locked in the hearts of 3 or 4 of the players in this tragic little opera, and I don’t think the justice system has the key.  Honesty has left the building, and it’s now only in the eye of the beholder.

There is one truth coming out of this case, though, which is far less complicated.  It’s becoming abundantly clear that it’s the beholders who are lying.  They are confessing (on and on and ever again) that their only interest in an appeal trial in a minor Italian capital is purely to see justice done – one way or the other.  This is a lie.  At best, it’s flimsy sleight-of-hand to cover a perverse peek into a torrid tale of sex, drugs and death.  At worst, it’s an excuse to watch the ultimate reality show that doesn’t have any producers or directors and only one immunity challenge.

I have no problem with people going touristing on the slightly sleazy side.  We all do it.  That’s why we watch Dexter, Breaking Bad or CSI (in its infinite incarnations.)  Nor do I think that people should not be titillated by the sordid goings-on of folks who’ve dropped their moral compass.  We all do that, too.  In its mildest malevolent form, it’s called gossip.  We justify indulging ourselves in these things in any number of ways.  We bend, stretch and twist the truth when we present our motivations to the world.  It’s an accommodation to our ego.  We need to be seen by others as good people.  There’s nothing wrong with that.  However, I think there should be a modicum of honesty involved – if not to the folks around us, at least to ourselves in the cold dark soul of 4 o’clock in the morning.  We need to be self aware.  When we start lying to ourselves, we have a problem.

The unintended tragedy of this murder case is we’ve lost sight of the victim, and without a victim, there is no real crime.  It loses its seriousness.  Guilt or innocence become a matter of conjecture — regardless of the evidence — and the crime itself becomes secondary.  In this case, the on-again/off-again perpetrator has taken centre stage because this is where our interest lies.  But we cannot admit this.  If we do, we become nothing more than sleazy voyeurs, peering through a slightly open window.  So we dress it up as an altruistic search for justice.  However, by losing the face of Meredith Kercher, we’ve inadvertently revealed that it’s the tawdry details we seek, not some moral resolution.  As we watch the circus of justice play out in our living room, we need to admit this — if to nobody else but ourselves.

Complaining: A New Generation

It’s been over three months since the overprivileged young people of Vancouver staged a reenactment of Last Tantrum in Paris on the streets of my city.  Unfortunately, last June’s Stanley Cup Riot has not faded into history.  The mayor, police chief and various media outlets are keeping it alive by miraculously growing extra fingers to point in all directions.  Incredibly, there still haven’t been any criminal charges filed but most ordinary folks around here don’t want any more cheese with that whine: they’re tired of it.  Only a few of us at the time who realized this was going to be Inspector Clouseau meets the Keystone Kops.  However, it’s starting to surprise me that some people are still surprised that our oh-so- caring/sharing local government is wandering around the halls of power clueless on this one.  Frankly, it’s no secret our elected elite couldn’t pour chardonnay from a boot — with the instructions clearly printed on the heel.  But enough about that; I have different fish to fry.

Ever since our sons and daughters took it upon themselves to drag their city’s international reputation through the mud, I’ve been wondering why.  I deal with my fair share of young people (basically the under-30 crew) and aside from their unholy sense of entitlement, I’ve always thought they weren’t particularly different from any other generation.  They strike me as enthusiastic, full of energy and ideas.  They generally work hard at what they do.  For the most part, they’re polite and take their society seriously.  They have their share of doubts and make mistakes – but don’t we all?  Personally, I think they’re a little smarter than we were at that age and if not more mature, at least more realistic.  After all, we thought if we just calmly explained things to the idiots running the world, they’d shape up and fly right.  Today’s youth is under no such illusion.

However, after conscientiously listening to young people for the last three months — in an effort to understand what snapped last June — I’ve discovered a substantial difference between this generation and pretty much every other one that’s come before it.  These folks are constantly bitching.

Don’t take my word for it.  Check it out.  Grab anybody who can’t realistically remember the Berlin Wall, buy them a coffee, and I guarantee you — within 20 minutes — max — they’re going to have something nasty to say.  Actually, it’ll probably start at the counter with the quality of service, which seems to be the bane of every young person’s existence.  If you get through that, I don’t care whether the conversation is about science, art or commerce, before the Starbucks is finished, they’ll be complaining about something.  And whatever you do, don’t get tangled up in politics because Hell isn’t big enough to hold half their wrath on that subject – and that’s on both sides of the aisle.  Nor does the discussion have to be about matters of great import.  If you want to get a real earful, try talking about television, or gardening or the smartphone they’ve been texting with under the table.  In fact, technology is one of their major complaints.  It’s almost as if they’re having a Sicilian blood feud with digital innovation.  I have yet to find anybody young enough to actually work a smartphone, who isn’t already mad at it.

Young people seem to see every social encounter as an opportunity to complain.  They spend most of their waking hours dissatisfied, and this isn’t just disaffected youth; these people are serious about it.  At a time in life when everything should be bright and beautiful, this generation is in a perpetual state of pissed off.  It’s as if they believe the bumps and grinds of everyday living were put on this earth to vex them.  Everything from the economic downturn in Europe to the old lady who won’t pick up after her dog is a personal affront.   Mick Jagger got more satisfaction, for God’s sake!

I don’t have any idea where this comes from or why it’s particular to today’s youth, but it strikes me as completely contrary to Mother Nature’s way of doing business.  Old people are supposed to grump around, grousing about everything that crosses their path.  Young people are supposed to be flexible and shrug everything off — because they’re too busy dancing and singing and ringing in the new.  This generation seems to be so high strung (and for no apparent reason) dogs whine when they whistle.  I’ll tell you one thing, though: somebody better give these people a tickle pretty soon, or by the time they get to be my age, there’s going to be no living with them.