There is a weakness in the Armour, a flaw in the glass of the politically educated upper middle-class in these times … I have witnessed it when I prod and tease some posters who come to the site “trying it on” with their presumption of “authority of opinion” which they mistakenly presume is backed by an accepted “nod of approval” toward their academic qualifications as being enough to “get them over the line”, to give them a pedestal position equal to their own self-esteem rating … and are quite surprised and even offended when they get mocked or confronted and challenged on their posts … where approbation was expected, they get confrontation .
Even in the new recognised blogs of social media, where so many who hold the presumption of THEY having the “correct” opinion, of THEY holding the shining light to guide the new direction for the working producers of society, they become crushed when they learn it is not all about THEM and their bourgeois values at all! … and their high opinions of themselves as a front and a font of social correctness turns out to be nought but a reflection of the shallow pool of self adoration!
I would call this “confrontational anxiety”: The shock of the new … the surprise of the sudden mocking or outrage against what we held to be a long thought-out, carefully constructed argument for or against a subject dear to our hearts, by sometimes gross innuendo and vulgar comparison and/or language that has sent shockwaves through more than just a few bloggers on social media sites, we can see it creeping into and from the audiences of Q&A shows, where the orderly manner of the format degenerates into a slanging-match almost replete with the cry of; ”Fight! Fight! Fight!” coming from the audience … This is the new media arising …
It is a new age of, possibly, true democracy … peoples’ democracy, proletarian democracy, where the unlearned and politically naïve along with the rat-cunning compete with decibel space for the ears of the politicians … drowning out the Machiavellian whispers from the main-stream media and lobby groups, exposing to the glaring spot-light of the mobile camera the secret meetings and assignations of those incumbents to a twitter-feed ravenous for victims and outrage! … No more brown-paper bags of dosh passed under tables at the local café, no more oversees trips without cost or confession … no more helicopter flights for the pancake face-pack privileged … and no more secret “kissy-kissy” assignations!
We, The people, have arrived!
Our clothes are crumpled, our complextions varied, our hair awry, our pockets empty, our manners uncultured and our disposition very, very angry … and we are coming for YOU, Mr/Ms Political Dismissive. And we are coming to get what is rightfully ours and if that means walking over a few egos and trampling on many eggshell vanities, so be it … this is a class-war and we are fighting fit for it!
There is a cry in the streets for majority representation and it is with social media that it will be delivered … the voice of the internet has grown exponentially in these last several years despite this gormless LNP govt’ doing its best to blunt the edge or slow it down … There is now a gathering speed of technology outside the controlling arm of censorship that, like the age of steam against the age of petroleum, the ingenuity of humanity, unrestricted now and certainly into the future of non-gender delineation, will see an explosion of delivery systems of internet width, distance and speed beyond the limited imagination of capitalist financiers and corporate controllers.
The future government will have to step into a new set of boots to both finance and deliver those up-dated delivery systems to have any sort of say as to how they are regulated and censored. If at all. The major religions will have to step aside for a new, growing belief in a more Earthly power of instant awareness and concern for cruelty or misdemeanour anywhere in the world and any given time … after all with the growing capacity of “smart-phones”, every public act of delinquency will be recorded on at least a dozen phones and instantly transmitted to the eyes of the world.
Get ready, my little chickadees, there is a tsunami of social-media technology coming where information both good and bad, accurate or shit, will be at our fingertips and any debatable point that you have developed, harboured and stewed over on long sleepless nights, to be delivered with accurate, concise language to blog and Facebook page could be instantly pulled apart, confronted and debased in the most vulgar fashion for sometimes just the fun of it from some arrogant bastard who has no effing idea from deep in the jungle of inner Congo or outer suburbia … and their opening line just might be: WTF!
This poem by Henry Lawson could reflect the confrontational aggressiveness rising from the working poor and the under-educated in regions and suburbia … A poem that speaks for one and many, that now, with the rise of social media platforms, have a voice and heart and policy ideals to be heard and be heard they shall! And neither media mogul nor lack of manners will hold that tsunami back … Prepare yourselves!
The Uncultured Rhymer To His Cultured Critics
Fight through ignorance, want, and care —
Through the griefs that crush the spirit;
Push your way to a fortune fair,
And the smiles of the world you’ll merit.
Long, as a boy, for the chance to learn —
For the chance that Fate denies you;
Win degrees where the Life-lights burn,
And scores will teach and advise you.
My cultured friends! you have come too late
With your bypath nicely graded;
I’ve fought thus far on my track of Fate,
And I’ll follow the rest unaided.
Must I be stopped by a college gate
On the track of Life encroaching?
Be dumb to Love, and be dumb to Hate,
For the lack of a college coaching?
You grope for Truth in a language dead —
In the dust ’neath tower and steeple!
What know you of the tracks we tread?
And what know you of our people?
‘I must read this, and that, and the rest,’
And write as the cult expects me? —
I’ll read the book that may please me best,
And write as my heart directs me!
You were quick to pick on a faulty line
That I strove to put my soul in:
Your eyes were keen for a ‘dash’ of mine
In the place of a semi-colon —
And blind to the rest. And is it for such
As you I must brook restriction?
‘I was taught too little?’ I learnt too much
To care for a pedant’s diction!
Must I turn aside from my destined way
For a task your Joss would find me?
I come with strength of the living day,
And with half the world behind me;
I leave you alone in your cultured halls
To drivel and croak and cavil:
Till your voice goes further than college walls,
Keep out of the tracks we travel!
Yes! … We come with the strength of the living day …
And on your doorsteps will you soon find me!