Ever heard Paul Simon's Still Crazy After All These Years? Well if you haven't, then get yourself a copy and listen to it - it's a good song. My father and I recently engaged in a very short debate about what the meaning behind the song was and came up with a few interesting theories. One of the more interesting ones had to do with the low-level psychosis running rampant throughout modern society (my father came up with that one. You know, credit where credit is due and all that). Well, I've had a think about it and have reached the conclusion that everything musical is, and should be, open to interpretation. But that's not my point, because wh
at I also concluded (and, as far as conclusions go, this isn't really a big one) was that I wanted to think more about this low-level psychosis plague. So I did, and here I am.
I read an article on the BBC website today; a very good article about people fighting with one another. But what captured my attention wasn't the body of the article, oh no; it was the title - Why are girls fighting like boys? Now this is an interesting choice of words because I would have been inclined to ask why girls are fighting at all and, to expand on that, why are people fighting over seemingly petty things? What's more worrying about the title of this article is that it seems like, as a society, we've normalised violence amongst boys; we've accepted it. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those people who protest for world peace - I actually think war is sometimes a necessary evil (and before you get all 'oh no he did-int', I promise I'll explain myself on this in another post. Just hold your criticism for now).
I just don't see how a normal person can beat someone to a pulp for spilling their drink (note, I use the word normal in its broadest possible terms. I know that you can't really measure what's normal, I just can't think of the word which means 'normal in relation to everyone else in society' - I should have paid better attention in Anthropology 101!). I think there are two things at play here; first, the low-level psychosis I was talking about earlier and, second, a system built up not to just be apathetic towards this kind of psychosis, but to propagate it. This is particularly the case in Britain, and I only say that because I'm in Britain - and have not experienced anything like it anywhere else.
Society is a funny thing – functioning much like the individuals it houses and, despite what many think, society is a living entity; Concerned, primarily, with the preservation of self, and why not? Any society is designed, built and fueled by those who call it home and those very individuals are, themselves, concerned primarily with self-preservation. This is why one is likely to find in any society, primitive or modern, mechanisms dedicated to caring for individuals who are ill and mechanisms dedicated to protecting all individuals housed within. These mechanisms function on varying levels of complexity depending on the particular society in question. They are also judged and viewed differently because, as human beings, we cannot help but express our opinions. For example, the hard-hitting, zero-tolerance, limb-severing implementation of Sharia law in countries like Saudi Arabia is most commonly regarded as primitive or backward when placed against the liberal, democratic implementation of law in the so-called first world.
So, we have these phenomena called societies; housing these things called people; who are absolutely obsessed with preserving themselves, as individuals. Clearly, there’s something wrong with this picture. For all this focus on self-preservation, society still relies solely on its individual members to keep it going; members who are, themselves, concerned primarily with their own individual self-preservation. The other day, during one of my rare moments of interest, I picked up a newspaper. I don’t even know if it was current, but something had caught my eye - the story about a man who was murdered by a gang of youths while trying to save his son from falling victim to them. This took place somewhere in the United Kingdom; I’m not sure where – my attention span became a problem after I had just browsed through the article. He had telephoned the police but they were too ‘preoccupied’ (perhaps with tackling low-level crime) to respond promptly.
Now, it doesn’t take much digging to discover that incidents like this are quite common in Britain. But, that’s not my point, is it? No. What I find worse, in my, perhaps twisted, mind, than a man being murdered by a group of pre- or just post-pubescent youths is a man being murdered by a group of youths in front of or alongside a group of onlookers – supposed innocents – who do nothing. Oh, did I neglect to point out that the above man was murdered in a public area, in broad daylight, with a number of people watching?
Allow me, now, to break from this morbidity and share an interesting anecdote with you. I am from Zimbabwe which, for those of you who don’t know, is a small land-locked and resource-rich country in southern Africa. I am African in my in my mind, in my heart and in my soul, and I understand her politics somewhat.
It’s a Tuesday afternoon, at the peak of summer. The African sun, which is like no other, beats down on the white sedan I temporarily inhabit heating it up from the inside out, making it feel like a potter’s oven. We’re in the centre of town in Zimbabwe’s capital – Harare; on Moffat Street, where my father has a stake in a thriving flea market business – I’m 10 and have come with my father on one of our routine trips during which we ensure the smooth running of the market. Town is full today, which is surprising, given the intense heat - which makes you feel as if you could cook a three-course meal in the middle of the street (something we’ll save for another article). Suddenly we hear the all too familiar call of “MA TSOSTSI!” Someone had tried their luck at thieving and was making a run for it. I look up just in time to see hordes of people converge, with little grace, on a single point in the street – the budding thief. More people than I thought lived in the city were on that street that day; coming out of the shops, jumping off rooftops, coming out of alleyways and cracks in walls. The thief, needless to say, was in trouble – he was given the once-over before the police were called. Bloodied and beaten, and almost surely in for a beating at the police station, I have no doubt in my mind that he thought long and hard about his chosen profession and about partaking in further activities of its nature.
This did not display a sense of community – neither did it display that the people who partook in this activity lead relatively empty lives and would jump at the sign of any action. It was a savage display of brute force coupled with street politics – a politics which is ingrained on every street in every Zimbabwean and, dare I say, African city. The street says – “you make trouble on me, I’ll make trouble for you” and it works, to an extent. It serves to illustrate the ‘cause and effect’ thesis which everyone is familiar with and, perhaps, Newton’s third law. The latter clauses of both these notions – effect, reaction, retort, result – form a concept that is greatly lacking in Britain today – the concept that everything you do will be dealt with accordingly.
I am not suggesting that this type of street politics is imported into Britain, but if it was imported it would inevitably be viewed as archaic, savage or even anarchistic. But what do you call a group of youths - who should be in school, experimenting with the opposite sex, fishing or running - stabbing someone to death in the street while people look on and do nothing because they’re too concerned with their own self-preservation to care? The streets of Britain are stained with the blood of innocents – fathers who want to save their sons, sons who were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, human beings who put others before themselves and paid the ultimate price. And what solutions are put forward? Increase alcohol prices and dish out more Anti-Social Behavior Orders than can be enforced at a grassroots level. People will still consume alcohol and, dangerously, I have a bad feeling that having an ASBO is seen as ‘cool’ among youths – evidence of beating the system and avoiding jail. Psychosis, at this level, begins to grow and there's nothing to stop it. No sense of community or family and the sense that one is invincible to the long arm of the las.
What is missing in these cases is the concept that one’s negative actions will prompt negative consequences at a local level and the lack of this sense is exacerbated by the breakdown of the family unit and the breakdown of the community as a whole. The culture of the welfare state has poisoned the streets, with a U.O.ME culture prevailing. If just one person cared about another person’s child in their neighborhood, things would be different, I think. I’ll leave you with one thought – everyone is on about democracy in this day and age, and Britain is no different. Democracy is derived from the greek dēmos (mob) and kratos (rule). “Mob rule”. Why can’t we have less of the ‘mob’ and more of the ‘rule’?
at I also concluded (and, as far as conclusions go, this isn't really a big one) was that I wanted to think more about this low-level psychosis plague. So I did, and here I am.I read an article on the BBC website today; a very good article about people fighting with one another. But what captured my attention wasn't the body of the article, oh no; it was the title - Why are girls fighting like boys? Now this is an interesting choice of words because I would have been inclined to ask why girls are fighting at all and, to expand on that, why are people fighting over seemingly petty things? What's more worrying about the title of this article is that it seems like, as a society, we've normalised violence amongst boys; we've accepted it. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those people who protest for world peace - I actually think war is sometimes a necessary evil (and before you get all 'oh no he did-int', I promise I'll explain myself on this in another post. Just hold your criticism for now).
I just don't see how a normal person can beat someone to a pulp for spilling their drink (note, I use the word normal in its broadest possible terms. I know that you can't really measure what's normal, I just can't think of the word which means 'normal in relation to everyone else in society' - I should have paid better attention in Anthropology 101!). I think there are two things at play here; first, the low-level psychosis I was talking about earlier and, second, a system built up not to just be apathetic towards this kind of psychosis, but to propagate it. This is particularly the case in Britain, and I only say that because I'm in Britain - and have not experienced anything like it anywhere else.
Society is a funny thing – functioning much like the individuals it houses and, despite what many think, society is a living entity; Concerned, primarily, with the preservation of self, and why not? Any society is designed, built and fueled by those who call it home and those very individuals are, themselves, concerned primarily with self-preservation. This is why one is likely to find in any society, primitive or modern, mechanisms dedicated to caring for individuals who are ill and mechanisms dedicated to protecting all individuals housed within. These mechanisms function on varying levels of complexity depending on the particular society in question. They are also judged and viewed differently because, as human beings, we cannot help but express our opinions. For example, the hard-hitting, zero-tolerance, limb-severing implementation of Sharia law in countries like Saudi Arabia is most commonly regarded as primitive or backward when placed against the liberal, democratic implementation of law in the so-called first world.
So, we have these phenomena called societies; housing these things called people; who are absolutely obsessed with preserving themselves, as individuals. Clearly, there’s something wrong with this picture. For all this focus on self-preservation, society still relies solely on its individual members to keep it going; members who are, themselves, concerned primarily with their own individual self-preservation. The other day, during one of my rare moments of interest, I picked up a newspaper. I don’t even know if it was current, but something had caught my eye - the story about a man who was murdered by a gang of youths while trying to save his son from falling victim to them. This took place somewhere in the United Kingdom; I’m not sure where – my attention span became a problem after I had just browsed through the article. He had telephoned the police but they were too ‘preoccupied’ (perhaps with tackling low-level crime) to respond promptly.
Now, it doesn’t take much digging to discover that incidents like this are quite common in Britain. But, that’s not my point, is it? No. What I find worse, in my, perhaps twisted, mind, than a man being murdered by a group of pre- or just post-pubescent youths is a man being murdered by a group of youths in front of or alongside a group of onlookers – supposed innocents – who do nothing. Oh, did I neglect to point out that the above man was murdered in a public area, in broad daylight, with a number of people watching?
Allow me, now, to break from this morbidity and share an interesting anecdote with you. I am from Zimbabwe which, for those of you who don’t know, is a small land-locked and resource-rich country in southern Africa. I am African in my in my mind, in my heart and in my soul, and I understand her politics somewhat.
It’s a Tuesday afternoon, at the peak of summer. The African sun, which is like no other, beats down on the white sedan I temporarily inhabit heating it up from the inside out, making it feel like a potter’s oven. We’re in the centre of town in Zimbabwe’s capital – Harare; on Moffat Street, where my father has a stake in a thriving flea market business – I’m 10 and have come with my father on one of our routine trips during which we ensure the smooth running of the market. Town is full today, which is surprising, given the intense heat - which makes you feel as if you could cook a three-course meal in the middle of the street (something we’ll save for another article). Suddenly we hear the all too familiar call of “MA TSOSTSI!” Someone had tried their luck at thieving and was making a run for it. I look up just in time to see hordes of people converge, with little grace, on a single point in the street – the budding thief. More people than I thought lived in the city were on that street that day; coming out of the shops, jumping off rooftops, coming out of alleyways and cracks in walls. The thief, needless to say, was in trouble – he was given the once-over before the police were called. Bloodied and beaten, and almost surely in for a beating at the police station, I have no doubt in my mind that he thought long and hard about his chosen profession and about partaking in further activities of its nature.
This did not display a sense of community – neither did it display that the people who partook in this activity lead relatively empty lives and would jump at the sign of any action. It was a savage display of brute force coupled with street politics – a politics which is ingrained on every street in every Zimbabwean and, dare I say, African city. The street says – “you make trouble on me, I’ll make trouble for you” and it works, to an extent. It serves to illustrate the ‘cause and effect’ thesis which everyone is familiar with and, perhaps, Newton’s third law. The latter clauses of both these notions – effect, reaction, retort, result – form a concept that is greatly lacking in Britain today – the concept that everything you do will be dealt with accordingly.
I am not suggesting that this type of street politics is imported into Britain, but if it was imported it would inevitably be viewed as archaic, savage or even anarchistic. But what do you call a group of youths - who should be in school, experimenting with the opposite sex, fishing or running - stabbing someone to death in the street while people look on and do nothing because they’re too concerned with their own self-preservation to care? The streets of Britain are stained with the blood of innocents – fathers who want to save their sons, sons who were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, human beings who put others before themselves and paid the ultimate price. And what solutions are put forward? Increase alcohol prices and dish out more Anti-Social Behavior Orders than can be enforced at a grassroots level. People will still consume alcohol and, dangerously, I have a bad feeling that having an ASBO is seen as ‘cool’ among youths – evidence of beating the system and avoiding jail. Psychosis, at this level, begins to grow and there's nothing to stop it. No sense of community or family and the sense that one is invincible to the long arm of the las.
What is missing in these cases is the concept that one’s negative actions will prompt negative consequences at a local level and the lack of this sense is exacerbated by the breakdown of the family unit and the breakdown of the community as a whole. The culture of the welfare state has poisoned the streets, with a U.O.ME culture prevailing. If just one person cared about another person’s child in their neighborhood, things would be different, I think. I’ll leave you with one thought – everyone is on about democracy in this day and age, and Britain is no different. Democracy is derived from the greek dēmos (mob) and kratos (rule). “Mob rule”. Why can’t we have less of the ‘mob’ and more of the ‘rule’?
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment