Category: Social Media

Fictional Friends

books.jpgThe most neglected area of  psychiatry, psychology and sociology is the influence of fictional characters on our lives and personalities.  Unlike family, teachers and friends who, like it or not, invariably have their own agenda, fictional characters are totally altruistic.  They are dedicated to us with the love of a thousand puppies.  Their very lives depend on us and they return the favour by showing us people, places and things we would never see otherwise.  They let us indulge ourselves in the kaleidoscope of life — good, bad, beautiful and ugly — without ever having to get our hands dirty.  Over time, these fictional people become our fictional friends.  They help shape and come to share our hopes, our dreams, our joy and our despair, while offering us insight into just how we’re supposed to cope with this carnival of emotions.  But long before that, before Tom and Huck and Harry Potter, we are influenced by the mythological creatures of our childhood — the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy — and Santa Claus, the guy who taught me the value of sisters and that the world just isn’t fair.

Every child knows the meaning of Christmas.  If you’re a good kid, Santa Claus brings you presents; if you’re not — ya get dick.  It’s a simple either/or equation.  Like most kids, I was middle-of-the-road, but, come the day, Santa always forgave my transgressions and I got my share of good loot.  However, one year (I think I was six) I noticed Malcolm Carson, the total bully of the neighbourhood, had a brand new hockey stick just like me.  He’d got it for Christmas, just like me.  But, then, on closer examination, I discovered that his was a Victoriaville with a wicked Bobby Hull curve while mine was an ordinary CCM straight blade.  Now, I knew for a fact that Malcolm had not been a good boy.  Within the last month alone, he had stolen my hat, pulled my hair, punched me in the stomach, washed my face with snow, threatened to make me eat dog poop and chased me home on more than one occasion — with poop in hand, I might add.  (FYI, I wasn’t even one of  his more frequent victims.  There are people from Mayfair Grade School who are still in therapy because of that little bastard.)  Anyway, this was a total tear in the fabric of my reality, and even though I didn’t understand the words, for the first time in my life, I understood the true meaning of WTF? I approached a sister with my conundrum (unlike parents, sisters normally gave you the straight goods.)  Her response (and I think she was reading Jean Valjean at the time) was:
“Santa Claus is a busy man.  There are millions of children in the world. He can’t look after all of them.”
“Then, how come I have to be good?”
“Santa Claus likes you.”
“He doesn’t like Malcolm?”
“Probably not.  Look, Santa Claus does the best he can, but sometimes it just doesn’t work out.  It isn’t fair, but that’s life.  You got a hockey stick; what more do you want?  You need to quit worrying about what other people are doing.  Forget about that little brat.  And the next time he punches you, you punch him back.  Like this.”
“Oww!”
“Now, get outta here, I wanna finish my book.”

Friday:  What happens when you learn how to read

Pokemon Go — Everybody Wins

PikachuPokemon Go has just been released in Canada (shows you what kinda second tier country we are). Everybody’s jumped ship to go hunt for the little bastard and his buddies and now there’s nobody left to talk to.  Not that the conversation has been up to much these days, what with Taylor Swift feuding with Kanye and Kim — again, Russian athletes getting caught for doping — again — and some Playboy bunny being publically shamed for publically shaming some other woman earlier in the week.  Plus ça change!

(To be fair, Dani Mathers, the original shamer, apologized —  not to the woman she made fun of — the shamee — but to the Internet in general.  Then she offered some lame ass “sorry-I’m-a-techno-idiot” excuse for posting the picture and making her juvenile joke.  Oddly, she never mentioned the teeny-tiny fact that she’d just taken a naked photograph of a stranger — without permission.  Personally, I thought there were laws against such things but in the brave new world of who’s on the shaming carousel, I’m pretty certain law enforcement has thrown up its hands in disgust.)

Anyway, enough about shaming.

I’m a huge fan of this Pokemon Go phenom and in my opinion the Pokemon people are doing humanity a great service.

One — Pokemoners (Pokemonites?) (Pokemonians?) are vertical and moving.  This is a good thing.  Video games have a tendency to weaken the mind and widen the backside, so, getting hordes of pale people out of their basement ass grooves has got to be a positive thing.  This might not be a lot of exercise but … it’s better than what we had.  Honestly, some of the folks I’ve seen stumbling around staring at their phones look as if they haven’t bestirred themselves since the original video game came out in 1995.

Two — A strange thing happens when gamers are unleashed from their consoles and their television sets — they act like real people.  I’ve seen people — this is true — talking to each other.  They use hand gestures, body language and facial expressions.  I’ve seen them flirt, cavort and even discuss.  Obviously, it’s all about which little fellow they found, didn’t find or are looking for but, still, it’s a start.

And finally:

Three — As long as the Pokemon hunt is on, there is a whole pile of  Internet personalities who just aren’t there — they’re previously engaged.  I’m not one of these “get-a-life” people. Honestly, if you want to spend your time playing with imaginary creatures that’s your business and who am I to judge?  (After all. I write fiction, for God’s sake!)  However, it doesn’t bother me a bit that I’ve noticed the number of nasty, gossipy, disjointed and just plain idiotic comments on the Internet have decreased since Pokemon Go has hove up on the horizon.  So, it looks like we all win.  Just sayin’!

Tom Hiddleston, You Ignorant Slut!

Tom HiddlestonFirst of all, I think Tom Hiddleston is a brilliant actor.  He’s played Cassio, Coriolanus and Henry V.  After his portrayal of Loki stole the Avengers’ franchise out from under the good guys — Tony Stark and Captain America — he became the Internet’s  boyfriend.  After The Night Manager, he literally kicked Idris Elba off the top spot in the Who’s The Next Bond Sweepstakes.  In some circles, Q had already given him the keys to the Aston Martin.  Wow!  What a difference a couple of months make!  As of today, Hiddleston’s screen cred is lower than a snake’s belly in a wagon rut.  What happened?  Taylor Swift.

For some unknown reason, Hiddleston dropped himself into the Taylor Swift propaganda machine, and from the looks of things, he’s not exactly struggling to get out.  Tom! Tom! Tom! What were you thinking?  Taylor Swift has built a multi-million dollar business out of dumping boyfriends and then selling the soundtrack to the emotional carnage, in a fauxmance frenzy worthy of Zsa Zsa Gabor.  (FYI, it took Ms. Gabor 99 years to amass 8 exes.  Swift has 7 and she’s only 26!)  The brutal truth is Ms. Swift is either the Humpty Dumpty of love or there’s something very cold and calculating going on here.  My money’s on B.  Swift’s life reads too much like a season of The Young and the Ruthless to be anything but fake.  My God!  Calvin Harris’ side of the bed wasn’t even cold when Swift’s Promo Team started feeding “improv pix” of Tom and Taylor to social media under the newly-coined #Hiddleswift.  I know romance never sleeps, but even Bluebeard took a day off, once in a while!

Of course, celebs change partners the way the rest of us change our socks, so it’s no big deal … but…  the problem is Hiddleston would have made a really good James Bond.  Unfortunately, Bond is suave, he’s smart, he’s sophisticated, he prefers women and would never even consider dating the Queen of the Tweenies — no matter how coldblooded her marketing plan was.  Swift’s persona is just way too Barbie for Bond — half the sexy/twice the plastic.  But more importantly, Bond wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a dickie “I ‘HEART’ T.S.!” tank top.  That’s the fashion equivalent of an Adam Sandler fart joke.  Nothing is ever going to erase that image from the retinas of Bond fans.

So you blew it, Tom! You’re never going to be James Bond now.  But think of it this way: in six months or so, the whole world’s going to know what a bastard you are.  You see, Swift hasn’t put out an album in over two years, so she’s about due to release her next “kiss and yell” recording.  And I have a feeling you’re going feature prominently in it.

Good luck with that.