Showing posts with label perspective. Show all posts
Showing posts with label perspective. Show all posts

Sunday, 24 July 2011

Amy Winehouse & The World's Problems

In my previous post about Amy Winehouse, Jenny left this comment:

"I've seen a million facebook statuses on her death today and maybe one on what's happened in Norway on the same day, none about what is currently happening to tens of thousands of people in Bangladesh, East Africa, Malawi, Libya, Syria... It really pisses me off that people accord so much importance to someone who was essentially a highly privileged drug-addict, who happened to have a fantastic voice and once a upon a time made good music. If you want to mourn the loss of talented people, there are plenty of talented people dying every day, all over the world who never had the chance to let their talents shine. Mourn them, and then do something about it!
http://www.icrc.org/eng/
http://www.unicef.org.nz/Africa-Food-Crisis-Appeal?campaignid=204&referrerid=2
http://www.wfp.org/hunger
http://www.amnesty.org.nz/"

 
 Here is my response:

Ophelia. Thank you for bringing up Privilege. I think it's an important point.

I'll make the assumption that you have the privilege of sane mental health, and that you have the privilege of being free of addiction to substances. So when you speak about all these things you can't speak for all of humanity or indeed all of a blog readership, only for your perspective, from the privileges that you carry with you. It is from this place of privilege that we can label someone as "essentially a highly-privileged drug addict", as if that catch all label means anything at all. I don't think this is how she would see herself. Indeed, there is nothing highly-privileged about being dead.

Your assortment of nations mention, of course -- there are tragic things going on there just like in all of our neighbourhoods. But what can we focus on as individuals? What should we focus on when we're posting on a film blog? That people are mourning the loss of a soulful singer does not mean that they're not also caring about Norway, or donating part of their salary to the Red Cross. So it seems strange that you would need to share links to Amnesty or Unicef. 

Amy Winehouse was very charitable - having donated proceeds from her songs to HIV studies, donating thousands of pounds worth of clothes to charity stores, and posing for photographs for Breast Cancer Awareness. I think it's important to look at these things from a bigger perspective. Ophelia sees Amy Winehouse as 'a highly privileged drug-addict', which is disappointing because, after all, Winehouse is an artist and a person who was far, far more than that. 

There have been two clear divides in the sad story of her passing. One is "This is so sad, we love her!" and the other is "Um, hello? a hundred people died in Norway and there's more important things happening in Africa."

Amy Winehouse was an iconic figure. Her music reached people. And I would like to think that Ophelia, a talented actress herself, would know that art transcends barriers. People aren't mourning a random drug addict, they're mourning a woman who, when on form, could make a hundred thousand people in a soggy field dream bigger. Or she could donate all the proceeds from one of her singles to the fight against HIV. We need food and we need money, but we also need art. I remember meeting a Holocaust survivor in Poland who told me how huddling up and singing songs at night literally saved their lives. I'm not saying Amy Winehouse ever saved a life, but what I am saying is that -- she was just a girl, who sang some songs, who had some real problems. And if people want to mourn her, they should. She was a human being, she was an artist, and she was a part of people's lives. That matters. 

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Saturday, 6 June 2009

June 6th.

A Short Story.

I logged on to Facebook. I was kind of hoping that Sally would have messaged me back, but she hadn't. Although she did write on Paul's wall so she had been online. Aggh, I'm so depressed. Why won't she message me back? Should I write on her wall? Poke her?. Not only that, but my boss keeps giving me shit because I keep showing up late. Fucking idiot, doesn't he know I've got enough problems? I logged back on to Facebook, Sally has deleted me. OMG. How could she block me?.

He was in the middle of the sea. He was probably freezing cold, he was probably scared - but he didn't really notice because he was so focused on the task ahead. And what was ahead, he didn't really know. He wanted to look into the eyes of the men beside him but he couldn't, because he was in the darkness of night. The horrors that were only hours away were too big to think about. He took comfort in knowing that his best friend Timmy was on the same boat as him.

I messaged Jane and asked her why Sally deleted me. I didn't understand. I am also looking for new jobs but it's so hard with the recession on. I took comfort in my Xbox 360. But then midway through a game it FROZE! This is why I don't let my Brother play my Xbox. Obviously he's broken it somehow. I just about managed to stop myself going insane and throwing the console out of the window. Fuck it, I just need comfort food. I made myself a sandwich. Actually I didn't - because there was no chicken left in the fridge. How can there be no chicken left in the Fridge? I tried phoning my brother to find out if he'd stolen my chicken but I couldn't get a reception on my phone. My phone is crap, I need a new phone.

He couldn't help but notice the eerie silence around him. The only noises were the occasional cough, or some guy at the back being sick. Everybody felt sick. Most wouldn't admit it. The night was nearly over and the beaches were ever closer. He instinctively knew that what was to come was going to be a lot different to everything he had experienced before. He thought briefly about Mary. He wondered what she was doing right now. He hoped she was sleeping.

I did a google image search for Scarlet Johannson. Life was suddenly great again and all my stresses were gone. After about fifty pictures of her I moved on to Meagan Good. Maybe life wasn't such a drag after all. My friend Charlie came round and we ordered a pizza. Charlie's my mate but to be honest, he annoys me. For example, he blatantly always tries it on with Sally, right in front of me. And he always belittles the things I say. AND, the dude owes me £50 from like three months ago. I wanna smash his face in. I can't deal with a friend owing me money and hitting on my girl.

He didn't quite get time to have a thought pass through his head, because the bullet flew right into his helmet before he even saw the enemy. Luckily, his helmet managed to hold out. Little Bryan wasn't as lucky, it sliced right through his shoulder and took him down. Within seconds, they were all in the water, fighting to get to dry land. Not that dry land was any better-- the onslaught of German fire was non-stop. He saw a small dip in the sand that could be used as cover. He headed for it but another soldier got there first. Good job the other soldier got there first because his arm got blown off just as he touched the ground.

I was meant to go to JJ's party tonight but instead thought I'd stay at home. I logged onto facebook and looked at some pictures. Pictures of Sally that her friends had tagged. I had reached the point of official devastation. Maybe I should just kill myself. Nah, I think I'll just throw on a DVD and drown my sorrows.

He could almost burst due to the sheer pressure in his head. Everything was happening at once. The water behind him was a sickening red, and the beach before him was a sea of men falling. It was too many things to take in at once - the smells and sights were indescribable. He would have taken more time to be dazzled by all this but there were still Germans shooting at him. Suddenly, a soldier dived on top of him-- they both fell to the ground. "What was that?" he asked. The bald comrade who wasn't wearing a helmet said "Keep moving, you nearly got your head blown off". Before he could say thanks the bald guy was already saving another life. As for our hero, he never saw the bald guy again. He never saw Timmy again either, but he didn't have time to think about that.

I think the world is falling apart. Seriously. Apparently, they think that maybe too much coffee can now cause mental issues. So I'm fucked! And I've just found out they're thinking of making a new Back To The Future movie, why Lord, WHY? Nothing makes sense anymore. Even Ronaldo is thinking of signing for Real Madrid!. I left Sally a voicemail. I know I shouldn't, but I did.

His uniform was ripped on one side from shrapnel and the other side was covered in blood. Although it looked brown. He thought blood was meant to look red. They were shooting at him again. Everyone was exploding. One guy was on fire, he didn't know how that happened. It was at this point he realised he needed to kill some Germans. He nervously hovered behind some tall soldier he'd never seen before and another guy who might be Mikey J but he can't be sure because his face was half blown off.

I logged off of Facebook and I ignored JJ's missed calls. My life was becoming more than stressful, I'm too old to be dealing with this shit lol.

He turned to look at the boy who was giving him instructions. He really was a boy, he looked 14. The boy didn't get to finish giving instructions because his head got blown off. All around there were boys crying, boys screaming, boys dying. But more common than that, were boys coming together. Boys focused. Boys advancing on an enemy that had to be stopped. He suddenly felt a jolt of confidence, a reminder of his purpose. It was all he needed. He wasn't going to go down without a fight. He pointed his gun at the tower above and took aim.

Care to share?