Thursday, June 19, 2014

Your Biggest Fan, Naturally

Call it a documentary and I will watch it. From Attenborough in the desert to Worseley in Hampton Court, via a bit I don't like to talk about much with some idiots in Chelsea, I will be there bravely waving the flag for factual television.

Factual = Fucking Actual. This is what television is actually for.

Breakfast, documentaries and defying Best Before Dates are my biggest passions in life. Happiness is watching Frozen Planet, eating eggs and scraping the mould off pesto to see if it's still good underneath. Pesto would have to be coughing up blood for me to believe it was truly inedible. I am a tyrannical PE teacher style fridge master, peering at the blueing cheese, "Doesn't look that bad to me son, just scrape the scab off and get on with it." Where most people would be down at Sainsbury's buying new food, mine have all just been forced to do it in their pants and vest - "IT'S YOUR OWN TIME YOU'RE WASTING!"

I find documentaries ultimately quite uplifting, in that they open my eyes to new respect for humans and the journey we've come along. I think too many people want to hate humans and believe the end is nigh; for every despairing thing in the world there's a documentary to make you realise we're brilliant/it's not that bad.

People who laud animals as being so superior to humans are bizarre in my opinion.

"I love lions. They're so regal, majestic. Look at them; King of the Animals. I have so much respect for lions."

Selected viewing much...? Or do you have the same reaction when you see a news item about a stepdad murdering the children of his new girlfriend because NEWSFLASH - THAT'S WHAT LIONS ARE LIKE. Sure, lions have things you can be in awe of; their power and might etc... but they're not angels.

We got to level Lion in about the 1950s I'd say; when women nervously presented dinner to a grumpy man who was finding being a man pretty damn tiring and so sat about shouting and his harem to bring him dinner so he had the strength to fuck them roughly again. What lions need is a lion Beyonce who can get them all shaking their booty towards equality. I'd imagine the lions' main nervousness about this plan would be that leotard probably means something quite different to a lion. It's very interesting that most human feminist icons post 1980 have so heavily involved leotards; I suppose they are easier to slip on than a horse or chains or something.

"Oh! Penguins are my favourite! Have you seen March of the Penguins? They're so incredible the way they survive those conditions. I have so much respect for penguins after seeing that."

I mean, are you literally high? Are you smacked off your tits right now or did Morgan Freeman's voice lull you into some kind of bass coma? You didn't watch that and go "What the fuck is wrong with penguins?".

We reached level Penguin sometime way back in the dark ages where we believed birthing had to be done high up on a mountainside and if you survived the birth you and your baby were worth it. Fuck it, Scientologists are still on level Penguin. How could you not have watched that and thought, "Take it in turns guys!" It only takes one penguin, one year to say, "Hey, I think I might not have a kid this year. I'll, uh, yeah... I think I'll just pop down to the beach this summer and maybe have a kid next year. There's fucking thousands of us, I don't think it'll matter much in the grand scheme of things." Think about it penguins. Have a break...

"Did you see that poll? A quarter of young people don't trust Muslims? Unbelievable."

Is it unbelievable? On 27th November 1095 Pope Urban ii gave a speech urging Christians to fight the Muslim infidel which lead to between 60,000 and 100,000 Christians heading off to the Middle East to slaughter Muslims. You might have heard of it, it was called the Crusades?

Before you tell me that was 900 years ago and we should have got it solved by now; there were 9 crusades, I think, and they lasted approximately 200 years. 200 years. And those are just the officially recorded campaigns. So, 200 full years of slaughter... and in a little over 3 times that amount of time we've got to 75% of the future generation not only not wanting to massacre, but trusting. Call me an optimist but when you look at the slow grind of development on other long held conflicts I feel like that's a positive statement given the major derailments to peace that have occurred in the time between the Crusades and now.

If the current Pope tweeted "Death to the East!" would 60,000 people even favourite it, let alone get on to see about flights to Baghdad?

Progress is everywhere. Yes, we're* still obsessed with what Kate Middleton wears to every single social event and the country ground to a halt when she married William. However, we didn't buy her from Angela Merkel to try and keep up with a steady German economy. Neither did Prince William marry one of Obama's waaaay too young daughters because of our special relationship. I for one didn't notice many instagram shots of the bloody bed sheets the day after their wedding either. We're better than we used to be!

We're also better than giraffes too because William isn't going to beat Charles to death with his neck when he decides it's his turn to be King.

We're far from perfect, but we're pretty cool. I  like us.

* I use "we're" with a heavy heart here, because I like to think that you and I actually are not, but the media certainly is so it's how history will record us.

No comments:

Post a Comment