It’s FRIDAY! And like I always do about this time, I’m thinking that I desperately need to write a super-catchy and amazing pop song called FRIDAY in order to replace poor doomed Rebecca Black’s version… if only in my own poor brain, which by this point is as tired of hearing the Ark Music contempi-classic to the point of near madness.
Rebecca Black gives kids a bad name anyway, with her lack of basic road safety and obsession with “haters” and red carpets and being famous. As if they didn’t have bad enough PR already. People who watch television and read newspapers seem to think that all children are vicious feral animals that’ll shoot you as soon as look as you. Completely normal childish behaviour is reinterpreted and exaggerated by the perma-hyserical media as proof of a society wide youth sickness that can only be treated with drugs and television.
They are also under the queer impression that bad and disrespectful behaviour amongst the youth was a purely modern phenomena, as if Just William and his pals weren’t constantly breaking and entering and throwing rocks at policemen and blacking fat men’s faces with boot polish back in 1922.
They are idiots, of course. All children are ace – or least, all children are ace until idiot adults smash all the love and joy our of them with their rules and their bad attitudes and their lack of patience or capacity for creative thought. Show me a kid that isn’t ace and I’ll show you a tragic victim of the rotten culture of Adulthood.
Of course, most of these people who are convinced that children are all evil monsters that need locking up in dungeons and force feeding prescription medication until they shut up and stop having fun haven’t tried talking to any. If you take the time to talk to a kid, as if he or she were an actual human, like you, and not some weird little doll for you to patronise, you will find them to be most agreeable and excellent company. I met a bunch yesterday whilst out taking photos with Dr Ev, and they were all entirely ace – happy, funny, polite (waiting for us to finish snapping before waling past the camera, for instance), complimentary of my moustache, full of useful information (“there’s a really good place to take photos just over there,” offered one, and he was right), and pretty much just plain overjoyed to be.
They were down in London from Geordie land on a school trip, I believe, to visit the 2012 Olympic site that’s sprung up in my backyard over the past few years. It is pretty exciting to have the 2012 Olympic site spring up in one’s backyard, to be honest. I can see the main arena/alien landing pad from my studio window, and it is a fine, futuristic sight. It reminds me of those paintings that came with the LP of Jeff Wayne’s War of The Worlds, one of the greatest feats of audio storytelling of all time… or at least of the feelings those paintings inspired in me when I first looked upon them, when I was about 6. War Of The Worlds and the concept of an alien invasion scared the crap out of me when I was small, but now I’m big I know full well that yes, monsters exists, but they walk among us already, wearing suits and ties… but if you smile at them they freak out and their brains malfunction, so they’re not really all that scary at all.
Joy to the future!