The road to Damascus has been traveled, the veil has been lifted , the penny dropped..all that sort of thing that accompanies the awakening of the senses to the bleedin’ obvious.. This “awakening” happened today as I sat in a waiting room..(and was accentuated by the John Lord piece put up on the blog this morning)..just your average waiting room for whatever services, and there was the ubiquitous stack of reading material of glossy magazines, some so-called “informative” , some architectural, but mostly trashy gossip rags, full the sort of things that can get publishers deservedly sued.
Now, for many years..yes, That’s; “years”…I haven’t been inclined to pay any attention at all to either new magazines of whatever capacity save just glance through with a look at the pictures and perhaps the captions..or the same with books, even though sans pictures, I have tried but failed to get hooked into the story, save a few, too few exceptionals..and I have wondered why, when one hears from some quarters quite laudatory critiques and heaped on flattery to this or that latest publication. But many, many times I got to the book and find quite quickly that it is disappointing and a let down.
Why is it so?…
And today I think I can explain.
I was perusing a lifestyle magazine promoting a holiday by the sea, in a supposedly olde-worlde beach shack of minimal proportions..the article had all those expected pics of weather-beaten tables and driftwood decorations, fluffy cushions, wicker baskets, along with the regulation hammock and old fishing rods and white, white everything..incl’ tablecloth…set against a background of bark-shedding Melaleuca trees with a fore-view of sparkling sand and blue, blue sea.
And, of course..all fake..a pastiche of an imitation of how a advertising person would like to think the everyday holidayer would like to imagine…oh you get the picture!..all complete bullshit..from the conception to the creation. Nothing like the real thing..what we would once have called “hyped up”..I know, because I and my family had a “roughy-shack” for years over on the Peninsular when summer hol’s with the kids meant many family kids and “one in all in!”
So I chucked that one down in disgust and picked up a gardening mag’..and I looked..and..there were no fuckin’ gardens in it!..at least no gardens I have ever seen..just mock-ups of green corners, of plant pots rented from some office greenery supplier, I suppose and herded around entertainment settings with again the over-stuffed cushions (available from “X” for $xxx )..all nonsense and puffery..just a wad of paper promoting outdoor settees and swimming pools and the like..all manicured exotics that would be out of the financial reach of 99% of Australians wanting a real garden.
What was that film?..”The Truman Show”.
So I gave that one away as well and picked up a trashy mag as I was dying to know just who the “Jen” was on the cover that was getting back together..maybe!..with Brad..who the fuck are these people who I am expected to know by their first names?..It’s all shit!..total bullshit!..and people buy this shit and take this shit home and read this shit and then feel the need to share the shit with loads of other shit publications in a waiting-room of some professional services that is supposed to relax you..it gives me the shits!
Layer upon layer of just rubbish!..
Rubbish fascile entertainment.
Rubbish relationships .
Rubbish employment prospects.
Rubbish pretence of what reality is and the whole she-bang so over-hyped that what we once called a real life is but the sentiment of a soft warm glow sun-setted over the far horizon.
But that’s how it all is these days..just like the song; “Is that all there is” (Peggy Lee 1969)..and I hate to say it, folks..but yes..and as in the world of publishing, that’s all there is..in the main..banal, frivolous, facile pastiche..The real world no longer gets a look in and the people are fed this continual pap of confected, cosmetic, conflated concoction of fantasy and futility..even our imaginations are being “managed” (see holiday destinations above) to accept fantasy as reality..and if this goes on long enough, will it not become the reality? So now even the fake holidays are faker than fake!
If we are continually subjected to false realities with the sophistication of photo-shopped pictures, celebrity imprimatured locations and credit financed possibilities, will the fantasy not in some way..some hope , some “I want it” possibility become the expected reality and all true happenings get blocked as a denial of what is the now accepted ideal of the “perfect reality of life”.
And I just want to know one thing: Who the fuck are Brad and Jen!?