So Wednesday was a pretty big day for me.
After an impossible length of time goofing off and devoting the entirety of my energy to transforming virtual Zombies and Dragons into a thick paste upon my trusty Devourer of Social Skills and destroyer of my already meagre chances at getting a date, the very machine that I extend my slothful existence by typing on right now, it seems reality has arrived on its gigantic meat-wagon of responsibility to cart me off to the slaughter-house of NOT sitting on my ass and clicking on dudes before they click on me.
Oh the horror, amirite?
From the moment I gained the ability to perceive the world as more than a cramped wet room with magical automatic meal delivery and waste removal built into the contract, life has, if not handed everything to me, at least presented it in a completely idiot proof and user friendly way to prevent my delicate mind from experiencing the ravages of the badlands of tax returns, application forms and generally not getting shit for free (mostly, as I'll explain later).
Gotta sort out school lunches? "Let mommy write you this note and draw you a map."
Need to go to a birthday party? "Ag, it's too far to walk, let me drive you, darling."
Got a school project? "Here's an in depth rubric telling us EXACTLY what we want from you, and take your time dearie"
As of two days ago, my entrance into "big big BIG school", I've been thrown into the adult world with all the force, abruptness and surprise of a lightning bolt somehow made of fat guys smacking me in the temple on a sunny day.
Suddenly I'm organising my own transport half way across the world (as I know it) every day; I'm having it drilled into me by my own common sense and the entirely more abundant common sense of others that the whole (9 : 0.3) ratio between vidjeo games and every-goddamned-thing else isn't going to be working out quite as sweetly as it has been for the last 14 zombie apocalypses (or however you socially adjusted people calculate time these days).
Up untill now my life hasn't really been interesting enough to warrant any bloggy behavior on my part, seeing as how it's revolved around nothing more than the aforesaid vidjeo games and what schoolwork I got done in between new Super Mario titles.
Before, I could only really make up fictional parodies about what I could glean of the world at large with my jaded and badly degraded Nerdeyes(tm). Now that I'm out there, having real life experiences as the adult I swore blind never to become (and yet somehow get rich and famous while doing fuck-all), I think I've got some interesting stuff to say about reality; stuff that might cause reality to become a little red-faced were it to get out.
Suck it, Reality. I'm here now and you're quite hilarious, looking forward to messing witcha.
Crap, I haven't even gotten to the anecdotes about mah first University day yet. Tell ya what, I'll have those on your desk(top) by tomorrow, but right now: Reality has gifted me with a peace offering of the first full night's sleep in days, and though I'm naturally cautious of this possible Trojan Horse, I'm also too damned bushed to do much mocking today one way or another...
... but don't think you're getting it any easier now, Reality Old Chum, I haven't even gotten started.
Grant out.
Showing posts with label Thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thoughts. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Couch Picasso - A study of television and its impact on human creativity.
Television: both the babysitter-of-convenience for modern parents and the drug of choice for our time's kids (or at least the ones with meagre allowances and less meagre morals) and a good number of the rest of us too, has never been bigger. Countless different shows (of equally countless degrees of quality) have the potential to bounce in and out of our magic picture boxes every day. The ol' teevee is one of the most exciting (to the average Joe) and certainly the most convenient source of entertainment to society at large, but does so easily being able to watch the fruits of others' creativity discourage the viewer to create something worthwhile themselves? Wouldn't the creative juices poured into our better spent as oils for the creation of (what is commonly considered to be) fine art?
"But is it art?", is a question that the world's elitists constantly stamp on all forms of modern entertainment, and television is no different. It's certainly true that the vast majority of "The Box's" programming is uninspired rubbish (the words "Reality Shows" spring instantly to mind), and I have no doubt that the human race would be a fat lot more cultured if the time spent watching a group of sweaty and grimy Americans scheming against each other on an island were spent on reading (or better, writing) a fine work of fiction.
On the other hand, high budget affairs such as "Lost", "Heroes", "House" and (I reluctantly admit) "Desperate Housewives", although doomed to sink into mediocrity due to the thoroughly un-bottomless well of human creativity, are shining examples of storytelling and cinematography in their early seasons. The really good episodes can leave the reader asking themselves deep moral questions, and the soul searching from these art-induced (and yes, I said ART) dilemma can be more enriching than a lifetime of staring at the Mona Lisa and trying to decide what the frigid bitch is smiling about. Of course, one can vegetate mindlessly in from of these shows (as many pretentious gits would do in art galleries and claim to be "cultured"), but ultimately it is up to the calibre of the viewer to determine whether any deeper message is gleaned from the dancing screen. In that sense, good television is just like any other art form, and is just as worthwhile to create.
Of course, even with the wealth of quality entertainment that television provides to the enlightened few, if those with the potential to make a valid contribution to the global culture pool needs only to press a button for his or her daily culture fix, how can they have any incentive to create art of their own? In my opinion, artists do what they do for two reasons: Firstly, to express their own emotions and opinions on life, and secondly to fill a percieved gap in society's consciousness. I'm betting that one of the top reasons that Shakespeare pulled on his writing pantaloons and scribbled down his plays was that he wanted to make the usual incomprehensible grunts of the filthy archaic proleteriate and in-bred nobilty a tad more high brow. What with television, internet blogging, telecommunication and other such modern ways of forcing your creativity (or lack thereof) into the world's collective noggin, these days expressing oneself is just a click away, and with enough "culture" to fill ten civilisations similarly accessible through a simple grabbing of the remote control, the average Joe will be unlikely to be compelled to dig his pen out from the depths of his couch and write a sonnet.
Once again though, the choice to put in some effort and make something amazing is entirely up to "the Box's" eagerly watching (and sometimes drooling) public. Despite modern society's subtle pressure on its populace to become mindless drones chasing after the almighty dollar and eagerly following the "career" of Paris Hilton, and the apparent lack of a need for new art, the fact remains: new paintings still appear in art galleries, the occasional new symphony (classical or techno), and despite all apparent odds, yet another new quality show often makes its rounds in the T.V. guides. Visionaries still roam the Earth, gentle reader, and there's no getting rid of them. The times, bad luck and the omnipresence of cretins have always opposed the creation of art. Whether it be how Beethoven had to compose despite is nasty case of deafness or how Homer had had to write the Illiad while having to flee from the occasional barbarian horde. Art has prevailed, in all possible forms, throughout history and we should stop fussing over it so much. It's old enough to take care of itself by now, after all.
Television's impact on the modern world's culture and our minds is impossible to ignore, and I suggest we accept the intrusion with open sensory organs. Some television good, some television is bad, and some television is "The Bachelor" (*shudder*), as is the case for all of mankind's attempts at art, but it's in the eye of the beholder whether to take something meaningful from it. Television may rot the brains of the modern neanderthal and the lazy artist (it's not like we were seeing anything out of them anyway) and it might oppose the emergence of the next "Great Bard", but ultimately, it simply creates a new platform for art and abundant potential for the emergence of something new and beautiful.
It's a fair trade, I'd say.
"But is it art?", is a question that the world's elitists constantly stamp on all forms of modern entertainment, and television is no different. It's certainly true that the vast majority of "The Box's" programming is uninspired rubbish (the words "Reality Shows" spring instantly to mind), and I have no doubt that the human race would be a fat lot more cultured if the time spent watching a group of sweaty and grimy Americans scheming against each other on an island were spent on reading (or better, writing) a fine work of fiction.
On the other hand, high budget affairs such as "Lost", "Heroes", "House" and (I reluctantly admit) "Desperate Housewives", although doomed to sink into mediocrity due to the thoroughly un-bottomless well of human creativity, are shining examples of storytelling and cinematography in their early seasons. The really good episodes can leave the reader asking themselves deep moral questions, and the soul searching from these art-induced (and yes, I said ART) dilemma can be more enriching than a lifetime of staring at the Mona Lisa and trying to decide what the frigid bitch is smiling about. Of course, one can vegetate mindlessly in from of these shows (as many pretentious gits would do in art galleries and claim to be "cultured"), but ultimately it is up to the calibre of the viewer to determine whether any deeper message is gleaned from the dancing screen. In that sense, good television is just like any other art form, and is just as worthwhile to create.
Of course, even with the wealth of quality entertainment that television provides to the enlightened few, if those with the potential to make a valid contribution to the global culture pool needs only to press a button for his or her daily culture fix, how can they have any incentive to create art of their own? In my opinion, artists do what they do for two reasons: Firstly, to express their own emotions and opinions on life, and secondly to fill a percieved gap in society's consciousness. I'm betting that one of the top reasons that Shakespeare pulled on his writing pantaloons and scribbled down his plays was that he wanted to make the usual incomprehensible grunts of the filthy archaic proleteriate and in-bred nobilty a tad more high brow. What with television, internet blogging, telecommunication and other such modern ways of forcing your creativity (or lack thereof) into the world's collective noggin, these days expressing oneself is just a click away, and with enough "culture" to fill ten civilisations similarly accessible through a simple grabbing of the remote control, the average Joe will be unlikely to be compelled to dig his pen out from the depths of his couch and write a sonnet.
Once again though, the choice to put in some effort and make something amazing is entirely up to "the Box's" eagerly watching (and sometimes drooling) public. Despite modern society's subtle pressure on its populace to become mindless drones chasing after the almighty dollar and eagerly following the "career" of Paris Hilton, and the apparent lack of a need for new art, the fact remains: new paintings still appear in art galleries, the occasional new symphony (classical or techno), and despite all apparent odds, yet another new quality show often makes its rounds in the T.V. guides. Visionaries still roam the Earth, gentle reader, and there's no getting rid of them. The times, bad luck and the omnipresence of cretins have always opposed the creation of art. Whether it be how Beethoven had to compose despite is nasty case of deafness or how Homer had had to write the Illiad while having to flee from the occasional barbarian horde. Art has prevailed, in all possible forms, throughout history and we should stop fussing over it so much. It's old enough to take care of itself by now, after all.
Television's impact on the modern world's culture and our minds is impossible to ignore, and I suggest we accept the intrusion with open sensory organs. Some television good, some television is bad, and some television is "The Bachelor" (*shudder*), as is the case for all of mankind's attempts at art, but it's in the eye of the beholder whether to take something meaningful from it. Television may rot the brains of the modern neanderthal and the lazy artist (it's not like we were seeing anything out of them anyway) and it might oppose the emergence of the next "Great Bard", but ultimately, it simply creates a new platform for art and abundant potential for the emergence of something new and beautiful.
It's a fair trade, I'd say.
Well, here I am. Now what?
Hello, I'm Grant Barnard and I'm going to be presiding over this small part of this great big internet of ours. I'll mostly be using this space to post my humour articles, reviews, drafts and various other pieces of my mind's accumulated detritus. For the most part I'll let my writing speak for itself, but I feel I can say with some certainty that if you can't derive at least a chuckle from one or all of my pieces, then you most certainly aren't human; In which case: Awesome! I hate those guys. Let's see if we can work something out.
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