Poetry (words)

Democracy/ hypocrisy and the cigarette paper that separates the two.

I used to love social media. Before Twitter became the venomous echo chamber, the verified monsters mouthpiece. Before the very system that funds it turned forward thinking into a humongous nodding dog, I apologise to the dogs for that, because in truth dogs are never as viscous as a petulant human let loose on a keyboard.

Having been amongst it for several years it’s easy to see its mechanics, how it ticks and how that tightly sprung mechanism will eventually explode / implode. And we are it’s driving force, the worker bees. ‘Hive-mind’ a phrase that could have been thought up to explain this very phenomenon.

It’s an addiction, but because we refuse to see how it affects rational thought it’ll be several decades before people will get to grips with the reality of that addiction.

That said, I miss being able to connect with certain people there, not everyone has an agenda and many continue to educate and inspire.

What I don’t miss is the vitriol, the one-upmanship, “look at me” mentality that’s taken over actual life. The celebrities who think that their opinions hold as much weight as their ridiculous earnings. Some are truly vile, and that’s the beauty of twitters lack of an edit button.

The evidence of how messed up Twitter is laid bare right in front of our eyes, but a quick refresh and the bad just disappears, except it doesn’t disappear does it.

It makes me angry just writing about it if I’m honest. The persecution I’ve witnessed is astounding. Idiots retweeting idiots without a care if what they’re agreeing with comes from fact or fiction, just as long as their target is hit. Outrage that runs the length of the news cycle isn’t outrage at all. Complaining about propaganda whilst peddling lies is the same beast.

“Where’s Jeremy Corbyn?” Well he’s definitely not marching beside a war criminal or someone who sanctioned the most vulnerable in our society is he. Moral compasses are useless when the rose tint takes on “a funny tinge” don’t you think……

Advertisements
Standard
Poetry (words)

Beyond the visible: Poetry & rebellion.

To see beyond statistics is foresight at its best, the outcome skims the very surface of what is. We are locked in an invisible cage, cause and effect of limited desire to understand or care about what happens around us and why.

Disorder ripples through our existence like Chinese whispers in a crowded room. Gain first and claim afterthought your reasoning when catastrophe shows you in the starkest light. Neighbouring disasters remain our neighbours problem…..right?

We will continue to watch glaciers melt and species fade, because change needs movement and the chains of apathy remain steadfast. A donation will ease the guilt, the click of a link, the self redeemed. Gasp in horror then turn away.

What happens when we do nothing? What happens is now. We grip to notions that polls are anything more than a snippet, a graph. Our insular insistence that we are never at fault is our failure..

Standard