Feckwittery

“Have you just spent the past half an hour looking at He Man websites, just so you could look up the word ‘Orko’?” my other half has just asked me.

“erm…. no….” I replied, trying to look like I was actually researching Brecht, or the unbearable lightness of being. But, to be fair, I’m writing this on a pink laptop in East London whilst watching Gok Wan, who is making fat women in polyester sweat on a treadmill. There’s not a lot of intellectualism going spare at the moment. Especially given the amount of Sweet and Sour Sauce I nearly spilled down my top earlier.

Class, defined.

I take some comfort from the fact I read The Times over someone’s shoulder on the Tube earlier, and am drinking tonight’s wine with my pinkie pointing out in a proper Surrey Boy style.

Looking over someone’s shoulder as they read The Times on the train is something of a rarity these days. The explosion in free newspapers for your daily commute has seen most people reading the same opinions, and the news reflected and commented on in the same way in a way that hasn’t really been seen for a while – or, at least, not in a way that’s been quite so obvious. I was quite surprised the other day when I saw for the first time a pile of Metros sitting on a table in my little village rail station. I sit on the train into London every day and see hundreds of people reading the metro – getting their daily fix of morning news from the same reporters, who will influence how those commuters will see the world for that moment in time. Some will argue with what they read, some will nod in agreement. Most will let what they read wash into their subconscious, registering every second word but letting the tone and the unconscious message of the piece seep quietly into caffeine desperate memory. The advent of free evening newspapers means that editors can influence thinking both on your way to work and on the way home as well.

It’s slightly different for the paid media – you pay your money and choose the newspapers which reflect your political theories and beliefs. I’ve often thought it would make a good formal debate – This House Believes that Newspapers Reflect Public Opinion; or This House Believes that Newspapers Influence Public Opinion. I never know which one would win out over the other.

But with the free papers, most people will read the content just for something to do. A captive audience reading out of habit. Accepting what they read, out of habit.

This has nothing to do with pink laptops, by the way. I thought I would mention that.

When we were kids, we got told what to think every day when we were at school. This is Peter. This is Jane. This is Pat the Dog. (New Word: Pat) I started this blog a few posts ago by stating that I was a geeky sort of kid and it’s true, I was. Instead of playing football when we stopped learning, I let my imagination run wild. I ran around the playground imaging I had a hidden base in the trees, and the leaves were my space ships. My favourite lesson was creative writing where I got to show the teachers that there was more to me than floppy hair (RIP) and a penchant for Parsley Sauce. But whereas today we get our sense of Morality from what we read in the newspapers, and that Morality is different depending on which paper you read, back when I was a kid I got my morals from TV.

Yep, TV – and you know the type I’m on about. Whereas today certain papers will tell you in no uncertain terms some things are WRONG (in capital letters), back in the day, just to excuse the fact you’d just watched half an hour of violence in cartoon form and to prevent you thinking that waving sharp knives above your head was actually a good idea, Orko from He-Man used to pop up with a 30 second moral message.

“Skeletor used a big sword today. He’s EVIL! Look – he’s got no skin on his face!!! So don’t copy him with a knife, kiddywinks – it isn’t going to be pleasant.”

(The fact that He-Man used an exact copy of the same sword is beside the point, but with many of the messages given to us today, there’s always a hint of hypocrisy with these things. )

The advent of Feckwittery has meant me re-evaluating my moral compass. More often than not (and seriously more often than not on the tube) I’ve found myself mentally wanting to push people down the escalators, or pouring scorn on the people who write to me at work. I never used to be like this. I’m never going to be a Daily Mail “Damn Them All” kind of guy, but there gets to a point where I end up thinking about stuff in my mind and then immediately mentally admonishing myself!

I’d never admit to being influenced by the views and opinions of newspapers, but I bet I secretly am. And I’ll still get the free newspapers when I can.

But part of me harks back to the simpler times of simple morals. The Grown Up Orko in my head quietly whispering to me – and me alone – what is right and what is wrong. And me having the courage and the social confidence to make up my own mind and ignore him when I want to.

Because, secretly, this pink laptop is rather cool and no one will convince me otherwise. I secretly admire Gok Wan, even though that last costume thing was hideous, and the sense of freedom and adventure that we had as children has to be kept alive somehow.