The Social Media Scourge
In Tuesday’s edition of The Times, there was a comment piece by James Marriott on the exodus of celebrities, journalists and businesses from the social media platform X (formerly Twitter) following Donald Trump’s election win and the appointment of Elon Musk to head the DOGE (Department of Government Efficiency). I adore James’ writing, and he is easily my favourite columnist to read, but his piece on Tuesday (Social media exodus may make us all calmer) really did hit the nail on the head.
As I’m sure many of you will know, I am fervently against social media. I will happily concede that it does sometimes bring people together, or allow you to connect with old friends & family that you might have otherwise lost touch with, or even teach you new information, but these benefits are far outweighed by the drawbacks. Social media platforms generally, but especially platforms such as X, allow the worst elements of society to spread their influence unhindered. Misinformation, propaganda, discrimination in all its forms, the list goes on and on. Opinions that would once have been so controversial as to warrant your exclusion from polite society are now commonplace among swathes of hatred-fuelled online communities. Young boys are being taught views on masculinity and feminism by extremists such as Andrew Tate that are, quite simply, reprehensible, whilst young girls are being pressured to starve themselves to look good for said young boys. Men are told they’re worthless unless they have a six pack and earn six figures whilst women are told they’re worthless unless they’ve had their lips done and can fit into a size six dress.
Look, I could go on and on, but the point is that social media is an absolute cesspit and we’d all be better off if we deleted our accounts. Oh, and by the way, for the avoidance of doubt, I strongly believe that Elon Musk is an enormous twat.
The City and Its Uncertain Walls
Haruki Murakami has a new novel out. I’ve only read fifty pages so far, but I’m already obsessed with it. I’ve read three of Murakami’s books before (Norwegian Wood, Kafka by the Shore and The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle), all of which were incredible, so I’d strongly urge you to give him a go if you haven’t before. I recently hit my goal of reading 30 books in 2024, which I was quite happy with, especially considering we still have six weeks of the year left, as it’s the first time I have ever reached my target since I started setting them in 2020. I think I’m going to set the goal of 36 for 2025, as that fits nicely into 3 books a month, so hopefully I’ll get a few more of Murakami’s works in there.
Anyway, without giving too much away, the two main characters in the new book begin their acquaintance by writing letters to each other, which got me thinking – how nice must that be? They write long, thoughtful letters, learning more about each other and talking about deep, emotive subjects. I think it’s a real shame that writing letters is a dying form of communication, and I’d love to try and bring it back, if only I had someone worth writing to. I just think there’s something so uniquely beautiful about taking the time and effort to lay your thoughts bare to another person. Without reverting back to my ranting about social media, surely you cannot compare the relentless swiping of modern dating apps with the feeling of receiving a handwritten letter from a potential lover in the post? God, I was about to say I wish I was born 100 years ago, but then I remembered I’m gay.
Speaking of, do you know what message I received on Grindr the other day? “I bet you’ve got a fat arse”. Perhaps I should go and live in a Murakami novel.
Chess, anyone?
Some of my more loyal readers out there might have noticed I mentioned my keenness to learn more about Chess in my most recent blog (Sadness, Self-Worth and Slow Jazz). Well, I received a text from my good friend Jack Woodyet afterwards, congratulating me on another well written and witty blog (he particularly enjoyed the line about Churchillian rhetoric), and asking me if I fancied a game of Chess. I’ve been friends with Jack (unfortunately) for several years now, yet I had no idea he played, so it was a delight to beat him 2-1 yesterday evening in the first of what I’m sure will be many series we play. In fact, we’re playing the next one tomorrow – why so soon, you ask? Well, I’d never suggest Jack is a sore loser, but..
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