Sky Atlantic recently broadcast a fascinating, if worrying, documentary called In Real Life on the impact of the internet on today’s teenagers. In broader terms they also showed how Big Brother is well and truly with us at every click.
The initial part of the programme focused on two average teenage lads who, aged 15, were disturbingly addicted to porn, which they had easy and clearly unrestricted access to through their various gadgets.
What was most worrying about this was the clear belief that what they were watching was not just the “norm” but out there and attainable for everybody; fact and fantasy had been merged courtesy of an iPad.
Whilst as a teenager my main concern was the understanding of the mechanics of a bra clasp – with its ultimate destruction almost guaranteed by teenage incompetence and ending with a discouraging slap – today’s kids seem to think starting with a threes-up is pretty much standard.
In olden times our only access to “porn” was risking the odd magazine under the carpet beneath your bed and hoping that your mum’s industrial vacuum did not obliterate the carpet unveiling a mouldy magazine.
As most of the pictures looked like surgical practices curiosity soon killed the cat anyway and it was out to climb a tree or two.
Kids these days are given an X-box like their grandparents get a dose of Valium at the old folks hope; sit there, get fat and “play”.
And just as young lads are addicted to gruesome war games on their X-boxes and Playstations, the reality here is that it’s a lot easier for them to try out their fantasies on teenage girls than wander off to Afghanistan for a firefight.
A survey this week confirmed an alarming rise in teenage sex crimes and it does not take a genius to figure out why this is happening.
Given the zillions spent developing these machines there must be a way of controlling this stream of images into the minds of innocents, accepting nothing ever will be fool-proof; how far do we further have to debase the society we live in?
Bring Back the Stack System
You may have seen the current Bose advert for its new Soundbox, a dinky speaker that turns your television into a contender for Glastonbury 2014. I checked out how much this glorified speaker is and nearly fell over when I discovered it to be £350, which is what my first car cost.
Remember when you could get a stack system for just the same money? Who didn’t make the stack system their first house purchase as a stamp of independence – sod the three-piece and a weekend in DFS – we bought noise.
They were great for many things; filling an empty corner, a plant stand, a spare ladder and somewhere for the cat to sleep. And did Luther Vandross ever sound any better?
Dear Sam Laidlaw
For those of you that don’t know, Mr Laidlaw is CEO of Centrica plc, parent company of British Gas and not a contender for CEO of Best Loved Company 2013. Price-hikes, profiteering and lousy customer service are my view of BG.
I did something I thought I would never do this week by switching energy suppliers having given up hope of any modicum of customer service from BG. All I needed was a simple replacement part to stop me freezing my nuts off…simple enough?
Nobody speaks to you anymore so you get connected to Emma on Live Chat which is a strange term this for one who was clearly brain dead. She professed her aim was “to give great customer service” but I just knew she was sat there buffing her nails, dunking an Oreo, feet up reading Chat magazine.
I could sense that I was dealing with an idiot bound by a script and she could sense that what I really wanted to do was pull her through the phone line and smash her headset.
Texting has led to people being unable to write a sentence these days; similarly working in a call centre where you don’t even have to speak to anyone will make you mute.
And that’s why dear Mr CEO, you lose customers…because your service is crap.
Amazon – It’s a Jungle
Another lovable big corporate in the news is Amazon for the alleged harsh working conditions endured by its warehouse operatives. Sure enough it looked hard going but equally past generations that went down mines may be turning in their graves.
Sadly there will always be jobs at the bottom of the ladder…who said you could have it all?
Heigh Ho…
Speaking of work, it’s true and 47 was too young to retire after all so it’s back into the badlands of asset finance with a quick brushing-up of my smile and dial technique, a shake of the suits from the wardrobe and out there to get my arse kicked again.
Private Eye Reads the Lord
Proving that those good folk at the Eye are as miserable and as unfestive as me, the latest edition’s front cover seems to have stolen a theme from my last edition. It’s nice to know there are fellow kindred spirits out there.
You Don’t Say?
The grandly titled House of Lords Select Committee on Olympic and Paralympic Legacy has just produced a report telling anybody with half a brain that there is “little evidence” that the Olympics turned us into a nation of people who actually play sport…unless you count sat on your arse with a Wii.
Still, as the likes of Lord Coe & co will doubtless confirm it was a jolly good party and nice work if you could get it.
A Novel Approach to Household Budgeting
I think Pay at the Pump at the petrol station is a great idea – unless you get behind the moron that still goes to the kiosk clearly in search of company – and the other day I saw a unique approach to working as a team.
Out got a rather harassed looking bloke from the driver side, followed by a hefty, fearsome creature lurching from the passenger door. Downtrodden bloke nervously extracted the pump as the fearsome one shoved her credit card into the machine.
Transaction made, presumably in accordance with weekly fuel allowance, she lumbered back to the car leaving ever more miserable looking bloke to doubtless pray that stray fumes would put him out of his misery.
It’s Just Not Cricket
Long before the Ashes started I made a decision not to cough up to Mr Murdoch to watch an event now organised for the benefit of Sky TV and sod the tradition, just lets count the Wonga.
As well paid as they are, players are on the edge of burn-out and genuine supporters weary of far too much of what was once a good thing.
Much has been made of Australian captain Michael Clarke’s pathetic taunt of a broken arm to England’s Jimmy Anderson but neither ever met Harden CC’s legendary Andy Gill.
Andy was a larger than life character who opened the bowling and on his day could bowl quite sharp with a wonderful competitive edge and a theatrical appeal that shook most umpires to the core, often waking one or two from slumber with a raucous appeal from a demented fat lad.
Many years ago, after my team had won a narrow victory in a fractious league match, Andy took exception to a bit of goading from our diminutive and equally demented spinner, Dirty Dennis Wood.
I think Den alluded to the possibility that Boris, his ageing Rottweiller, could bat better than Andy just after he was last man out, the game lost and the post match beers not yet soothing the red mist.
Andy erupted like a mad man as Den offered the comforting words of “tough shit” which resulted in Den sprinting off the field chased by Andy waddling in his pads waving his bat with which he would surely have smashed Den’s remaining brains in.
Once locked inside the changing rooms, all we could hear was Andy outside going through an “I’m going to huff and puff and blow your changing rooms down and I’m going to eat that little, wiry shit”.
Dirty Den slept there all night, quivering inside but eventually got a far worse battering from Mrs Wood the next day.
Who needs the Ashes?
Patch says
Willy
As you know anything by Bose is pure quality. At£350 it’s right up there with a towny leather coat or suit. Like I said pure quality.
Paul Martin says
Great work again Steve – Brings back memories of the old Amstrad ‘ stacker ‘ which looked the dogs with its then cutting edge LEDS on the ‘ amp ‘ ( loosest sense of the word ). A real work of art to look at with its ‘ smoked ‘ glass door and ‘ black ash ‘ veneer frame.
I might have been mocked by friends at School who were into their NAD and Marantz etc but I never saw a “rumble filter” or “scratch filter” on their kit, very rarely did they have the double cassette deck or speakers that were almost as tall as me. The fact that the speakers were made of chipboard and behind the mesh was single driver pretending to be a tweeter, mid-range and woofer all in one, was a distraction to be ignored.
Ok so it looked the part and ahead of its time……………but the sound was sh@te and cloe inspection revelaed it was nothing ‘ stacked ‘ at all, a mind trick played to disguise the cheap plastic box it was.
It could make my ‘ Brothers in Arms ‘ album sound like Paul Shane ( check out his Pebble Mill session ) and many a cassette was chewed up by the Vietenamese workings hidden inside.
Happy days indeed, thanks again Steve for sending me down memory lane.
Keep it up !!