2013-05-24T14:25:04-04:00 Thomas Morris http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/author/index.php?author=thomas-morris Copyright 2008, HuffingtonPost.com, Inc. HuffingtonPost Blogger Feed for Thomas Morris Good old fashioned elbow grease. tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1974086 2012-10-17T12:45:43-04:00 2012-12-17T05:12:02-05:00

Thomas Morris http://www.huffingtonpost.com/thomas-morris/ Policy Exchange to see Sir Terry Leahy. Promoting his book Management in Ten Words, the discussion with Tesco's former CEO was chaired by The Times' Daniel Finkelstein. A reporter usually incisive with his analysis, I was hoping for a good hour of give and take on what exactly it was the government could hope to learn from private companies.

Although Leahy has disavowed government ambitions several times, it's easy to see why David Cameron's favourite think tank invited him along. His key messages of competition and changing the public service culture directly reflect the various Conservative reforms passed and proposed.

In short, Leahy sees that the public's view of what they actually want from their government is more often ignored than not. And while some of the best private companies embrace the service ethos of the public sector, the efficiency of the former is rarely taken up by the latter.

His view is that this largely stems from an overgrowth of regulation. Rather than listening to the public, public services listen to those in control. Pointing to the last 25 years, Leahy notes that the legislative apparatus controlling businesses and services has developed far quicker than the economy itself. This both stems from and encourages a lack of trust in the people who actually work in such institutions.

In the public sector (the thesis continues) this lack of trust generates a culture in which failure is rewarded only with punishment. Consequently the public have been taught to expect an excessive standard of accountability from both their civil servants and politicians.

With the standard of public accountability set too high, real innovation (and the inevitable risk that accompanies it) can never be allowed to flourish and "managerial incrementalism" ensues. Rather than a public sector based on dynamic growth, we have a public sector that mixes agendas, limits its own ambition and prevaricates in order to minimise damage.

Leahy's almost inexorable answer is competition. Performance-based incentives will encourage the right kind of growth and achievement that the current system does not. Leahy cites a conversation with a friend who, like his wife is an NHS GP. To paraphrase: 'in the current system running a successful practice gets me nothing, whereas if you run a successful company, you get a bonus'. Today's public sector focuses too much on the system of delivery and not the goods that are being delivered.

Comparing it with his own experience, Leahy notes that size of the food and health industries is about equal (c. £100m). The difference however, is that customers can choose where they shop. Empowered customers can elect to visit Sainsbury's or Morrison's whereas their GP is their GP. Service to users is limited and what's more never commissioned as a result of their own choice. Instead, it is dispensed top down and awarded by those who can successfully pitch to win business rather than deliver the service.

To change this, Leahy suggests a wider paradigmatic shift is necessary: "Too much of our everyday life... is managed by government" and responsibility in large institutions can only stem from entrusting it to individuals. Added to this, a government hoping to change the public sector can only do so by ridding it of the notion that eschewing private companies means declining wealth creation. Shrinking the public sector's remit would, in turn make way for those larger salaries that ultimately are capable of attracting the best talent. Instead, "too many people are simply not taught where their wages come from", such that pecuniary desire is seen as incompatible with genuine public sector ambition.

All this of course is nothing new to anyone familiar with Conservative policy. Leahy's most penetrating insight only comes towards the end of his reflections on how exactly to push business-like competition into the public sector. Rather than the slew of management consultants brought in to advise businesses, experts should be instated as the actual heads of sectors with all the accountability that accompanies the position.

Despite this, the interchange between Leahy and audience rarely steers away from the more Conservative aims of the Con-Lib coalition. Pushed on exactly how one would introduce an increased tolerance of failure into an institution like the NHS, Leahy can only answer half-heartedly that "in certain sectors" it couldn't but "in others" it might be easier to control. Likewise, other than a passing nod to the Virgin Trains debacle to showcase bureaucracies as a "terrible form of human experience", no mention is made of that particular mode of transport which has made itself into a case study for privatised public service failure: the trains.

All in all, Leahy is an affable speaker who delivers his ideas well. Finkelstein too is charming and confident but that's exactly the problem: I'm not an overly political animal yet I have more heated political discussions among my own friends; the whole event is too chummy by half. Rather than see Leahy's ideas tried and tested, the discussion just affirms what most of the British public already knew: that Leahy can run a private business specialising in food retail. Whether those ideas can be applied to the public sector is something anyone not already onside is hardly likely to have accepted on the back of this performance.]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1544365 2012-05-24T20:26:41-04:00 2012-07-24T05:12:07-04:00

Thomas Morris http://www.huffingtonpost.com/thomas-morris/
Three years later, Britain hosted the Olympics, and a small hospital in Buckinghamshire put on the world's first 'Wheelchair Games'.

Now in 2012, the future of the British forces in Afghanistan is being decided.

And London is hosting not just the Olympics but the Paralympics as well.

This documentary takes a look at how the two are connected.

Note: I recorded all the interviews and took the photo below myself. All feedback appreciated.




]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1511121 2012-05-14T00:00:00-04:00 2012-07-13T05:12:19-04:00

Thomas Morris http://www.huffingtonpost.com/thomas-morris/
Let me explain.

Just now, I received a facebook message. In itself, this is not particularly rare. While I may not be winging off envoys to remote parts of the world every day, the odd communication is to be expected. In fact, one such thread has kept me amused for quite some time. But this particular note was something quite novel.

In general, there are three types of facebook message: The genuine conversation - consisting of questions, answers, idle chit-chat and the like -; spam -***GET DRUNK AT OUR CRAPPY CLUB***- £$FREE T-$HIRT$ M8£$ etc.; or sponsorship updates along the lines of 'STUART'S RUNNING THE MARATHON GIVE HIM SOME MONEY'.

While the latter pair have their pros and cons, they can each be dealt with through a casual delete and a quick fiver and pat on the back, respectively. Spam is irritating no doubt about it, but at least the purge is brief. And to be honest, I can take emotional blackmail for most causes as long as it's not jumping out of a plane; that's just something you want to do - at no point is you reaching terminal velocity helping anyone achieve anything, least of all the people you're ostensibly waving a flag for.

This though, was an invitation to 'like' a business on the good old social network. And not just any business. An M& no... It was the business that a girl from school's mum had bravely set up. Why bravely? Not because the business model/plan sounds appalling, but just because, in the middle of whatever kind of dip-(double/triple/chocolate/sheep)-recession we are experiencing, new businesses seem to be cropping up like mushrooms. And more often than not, only to be duly squashed by the ruthless hob-nailed farmer's boot of macro-economics.

And hell on the face of it, it even sounds like quite an admirable enterprise. 'Ping! Student Foods', as I've discovered it's called, promises to deliver "Proper food with no rubbish" to all you lazy-ass students out there. And in a way, that does actually sound quite good. Who doesn't like a home-cooked meal? In fact, one guy I used to live with even had his mum actually come up two or three times a term just to provide him with bolognaise sauce instalments...

But here's the thing. Getting a mass message on facebook, I instinctively didn't want to read it. I saw, "Hey guys" and instantly, BAM, my mind went "Nope". Maybe it's my inherent desire to maintain a veneer of individualism that put me off. Maybe it's my covert ethical stance that won't let me back something I don't personally use. Or maybe I'm just a dick. Whatever it is, I know you've done it too. And what's worse, facebook is making it harder.



By showing us when people have "officially" left the conversation, it's just advertising the tender, antisocial reclusiveness that some of us like to harbour. I mean of all things, facebook, an invention specifically designed for people too agoraphobic for real social lives, should be able to appreciate that. This is exactly the kind of alarm bell we don't need. Christ, I find exclamation marks too enthusiastic...

But no. Now, I don't even have the luxury of not giving the slightest shit. Either I'll leave this (and any other such future) 'do-something-nice-aren't-we-all-nice' thread and be judged for the anti-enthusiastic, scornful bastard that I am currently channelling; or I'll be constantly reminded by ceaseless updates from all the other watery-eyed well-wishers about how I couldn't even be bothered to click my support for Katie's marathon, Simon's Ironman or Barry's commando-crawl to Barbados.

At the end of the day, it's a tough balancing act. And all the more so when the thread you're engaged with actually consists of a group of friends. One current message recently suggested that we all go as a group to the zoo. "WHAT?" I thought. For starters, I'm twenty-three. I know what animals look like. I've also got to the stage in my life where, unless they're being saved from man's destruction in the wild, I'd rather not see them behind bars or in a glass box being tapped at by an obese child and their accompanying pathetically indifferent parent. But, restrained by the complex mix of 'not leaving the thread' and some form of social convention (politeness, maybe?) this lack of enthusiasm was not expressed, and instead grudgingly gave way to tacit disdain alone. Yet the thread mercilessly trundles on. "I can do the xx^rd!"..."But what about?" "Can we still?" And so on.

Soon enough I'm sure the zoo will become a thing of the past. But I know something will replace it. Or they'll just reminisce about some kind of meerkat that looked like a politician but probably didn't really and was just a convenient filler for a slow news day. And then there'll be a Meerkat page I have to like and then there'll be a thread and we'll all end up slowly hating ourselves for ever. (Oh Christ I thought I'd made this up but it turns out it exists).

The choice then, seems to be between resentful bondage to the thread and social exile. That or achieving a Nirvana of indifference. Let's pray for the latter, because I say this with evidence on my side. A friend of mine left a group thread only last week. The Monday after, he moved to America. His latest picture currently features two things: Him and a double-barrel shotgun. I don't expect to hear from him again.]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1475916 2012-05-03T19:00:00-04:00 2012-07-03T05:12:03-04:00

Thomas Morris http://www.huffingtonpost.com/thomas-morris/ University project, I've been looking at homosexuality and its relationship to hip hop. In it, we've regularly said that LGBTQ artists have a far greater representation in other genres of music; freely citing the likes of Freddie Mercury, Elton John and George Michael. But beyond these iconic figures of the 80s, how well does our assertion actually stand up? In order to try and back ourselves up with some quality data, I went on an exploration of some of the hits from yesteryear.

Quality not quantity. It's an old adage and one that anyone looking at the sales of non-heterosexual rap music might have to take heart from. The same might equally be said of the UK Top 40. And there has certainly been a hefty amount of quantity there.

Carly Rae Jepsen's Call Me Maybe for example, is now the UK's 1192^nd ever No. 1. So, with so many singles and genres, LGBTQ artists are bound to have been represented adequately at the highest level... How many No. 1s though, have actually been played by musicians and bands who were openly gay or bisexual?

To find that out, I took a look at all the artists who had ever got a No. 1. The list is, needless to say, extensive. I then went through, researching as I went, ticking off all those who I knew or could discover were openly gay.

Before I get into the figures though, I should explain how I got my data. The basis for the charts was laid in 1952 when Percy Dickins, a journalist from the NME, collected and compiled the figures for the sales of sheet music from some local shops. While these figures are accepted, it was only in 1969, when the British Market Research Bureau was established, that there was an officially recognised UK Chart.

However, I was willing to accept a bit of lenience in this department. What I really thought I should use as a cut-off point though, was the decriminalisation of homosexuality in July 1967. While the move was not without its controversies, from both homosexuals and heterosexuals alike, the landmark year is an ideal place to start.

So, the answers? In total, there have been 56 No. 1 singles from artists who were either openly gay/bisexual or bands with a gay/bisexual member. In the case of artists who were both lead singers and solo artists, the hits have been attributed jointly.

With that in mind then, who is our number one gay/bisexual artist? Well, out in front with a whopping 11 No. 1's is of course George Michael.

Artist	No. of Number 1s
George Michael/Wham	11
Elton John	6
Freddie Mercury/Queen	6
Pet Shop Boys	4
Will Young	4
Frankie Goes to Hollywood	3
Boy George/Culture Club	2
Jessie J	2
Steps	2
Dead or Alive	1

 

That said, it does pale in comparison with Elvis Presley and The Beatles' 21 and 17 respective chart smashers. It also seems to make for awkward viewing when compared with the total number of hits. As a proportion, LGBTQ artists make up just under 5% of all No. 1s.



In fairness though, this would seem to reflect the government's statistics that roughly 5% of the UK population considers themselves as other than heterosexual. In terms of time spent at the top however, these artists fair slightly better, spending a proportionally greater time at the top than their physical numbers suggest. So, while LGBTQ songs might only take up 4.7% of the chart's No. 1 spots, they've spent over 163 weeks there out of a possible 2366. That may not sound like much, but it adds up to a more considerable 7%.

The one thing that does stand out as potentially worrying however, is that the majority of these hits come from the 80s. In fact, looking at a chronological spread of the hits, it's easy to see.



With heavy-hitters like George Michael, Frankie Goes to Hollywood and the Pet Shop Boys at their peak, the decade is a stand out performer. And, while the 90's and 2000's are hardly a return to the doldrums of the 60s and 70s, it does seem odd that LGBTQ artists should be represented by so few a number.

While it would certainly be both unfair and unwise to blame this decrease on the rise of hip-hop's rise, it seems an interesting point to consider given the nature of this project. As the 2007 cult hit Thou Shalt Always Kill put it, the acquisition of "guns, bitches and bling" seems to have steadily forced out some of the other ideas that music was about. I'll freely admit, a song like Relax (which coincidentally was banned from Radio 1) is not the pinnacle of philosophical self-expression but it certainly pushed the boat out for homosexual freedom in art. Try and find a similar No. 1 in the last ten years and the closest you'll get is the video for t.a.T.u's All the Things She Said, in which some teenage girls fondle each other in the rain; a project their manager Ivan Shapovalov, readily admitted he created as an "underage sex project". The less said about it the better.

However, one thing over the course of this project far has stood out: An increasing number of artists see that the most 'modern' way they can get their message of sexual tolerance across is not by making their sexuality a major statement of their music. Instead, they let their sexual preference be known if it's asked about but really they let the music do the talking.

The numbers may then still appear to betray a declining popularity of LGBTQ artists. Jessie J currently stands as the only LGBTQ artist of the 2010s to make the top spot, and she famously has little time for much debate on the subject of sexuality. But, with projects like OutSpokenUK trying to foster attention in as positive a way as possible, who knows? Before ending though, it is worth mentioning one musician in particular:

The name of Long John Baldry may not mean anything to you, and likewise his song Let the Heartaches Begin may not be your kind of thing. Yet, with his voice faintly reminiscent of Louis Armstrong and a hearty chorus of "I've lost that girl for sure", the song has a nostalgic charm. And, in November of 1967, Long John became the first openly gay musician under the UK's new legislation to score a No. 1 hit. Later, John had a brief relationship with Dave Davies from the Kinks and even helped Elton John on his own path coming to terms with his sexuality.



For many artists, these charts still mean a lot. At a basic level, it's the most palpable acceptance that musicians will ever get and, while many artists will be doing it just for the sake of their music, that gratification is special. That LGBTQ artists ever since Long John have rightfully taken their place at the highest end of the charts is a reflection of music's unique power to form a community of millions. Keep up the good work.

To download Tom's original data, click here.]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1440597 2012-04-22T19:00:00-04:00 2012-06-22T05:12:02-04:00

Thomas Morris http://www.huffingtonpost.com/thomas-morris/ Wearing My Rolex. "Not a bad tune that", you think. But otherwise, the stage name of Richard Kylea Cowie might have passed you by.

Which, of course, is fair enough. If your musical diet consists of whatever's in the Top 40, you could be forgiven for thinking that the achingly omnipresent Adele, David Guetta and Gotye are the only people to have released any music since 2010. Fortunately, the well of music has not run dry just yet. Despite the reassurances that our digital siphoning of tunes will create an arid plain of dusty musical death, it seems some artists have just about managed to keep going. And Wiley's one of them. Since 2006, Wiley has released eight albums, with his recent Evolve or Be Extinct LP coming out in January of this year.



I'll admit right now, I don't own these albums. I can't even say that I gave him much of a second thought until a few weeks ago. But, even without my unquestionably vital support, he's continued to make his music, produce and MC for other artists, front the Roll Deep collective and set up club nights across the UK. In short, the guy works hard. And it shows.

The reason he came back on my radar was his relentless tweeting. The man is incessant. But, one way or another, I started going through his 140 character blasts until I came across a link to the video for Boom Blast. Liking its sounds, bit by bit, I discovered more of his songs, found out more of his back story and sure enough, bought the whole Evolve or Be Extinct album.

As an album, it's pretty good. It deserves a solid seven or eight out of 10 and the beats stay around the high end of grime, being insistently catchy and innovative. And Wiley's flow is never less than passionate, delivered with the fluidity that lifted him up to the Godfather of Grime status he surely deserves. But what really shines through is his work ethic. From the album's eponymous track which boasts quite simply "I'm going in, I ain't comin' out" to the reflective Life at Sea's "I wanna be an artist, can't do what I did early on", Wiley's agenda eschews stereotypical hip hop conventions. While it may occasionally dip into the celebration of accumulation, Wiley never forgets the hard work and effort it took to get there, and what it'll take to stay. If anything, he actually seems more at ease revelling in the graft than its rewards.

And perhaps justly so. Artistically, Wiley is one of a growing number who have come to realise that their success ultimately depends on their own work ethic. Perhaps quicker than any of their other media counterparts, musicians have come to realise a vital lesson: In an online world, free access to product is almost inevitable. As a result, the need for independent distinction is key. So, whether it's from the shameless self-promotion that twitter allows, or the continual output of mixtapes and albums, the struggle to gain and maintain relevance has never been more crucial.

Needless to say, Wiley is not alone in his entrepreneurial approach. Although he may have slipped into the middle-of-the-road bracket by virtue of some shopping baskets, Ed Sheeran's success was largely due to a never-ending touring schedule. Equally, the cult following that Odd Future have garnered - whether you agree with its sentiment or not - is entirely due to their bottomless creativity and willingness to market themselves and their products. Even Simon Cowell's Olly Murs has set himself apart from a host of X-factor washouts by putting in the effort that others lacked.

In short, doing things by their own terms, a new wave of musicians are taking back the corporate machinery which for so long distanced themselves from their fans. And while 'indie' music may originally have had something to do with Independence, the spread and rebirth of that ethos in "urban" genres has refuelled a dedication that speaks volumes for the artists that have made it work. As one comment beneath the video for If I Could (a song that actually puts Wiley together with Ed Sheeran) states, "love them or hate them, they came from nothing to success, its [sic] an example to set".

Clearly, the credit crunch didn't set about making artists want to work hard. But it sure as hell made for the economic conditions that mean popularity doesn't necessarily translate into record sales. And that may damage the pockets of a few people. But long term, it means one thing: that the people getting into music, are doing it for the music alone. And realistically, that's a scenario in which everyone wins.]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1405129 2012-04-05T08:02:45-04:00 2012-06-05T05:12:01-04:00

Thomas Morris http://www.huffingtonpost.com/thomas-morris/ this maybe.

Imagine if they'd called themselves rofl...

All this etymological nitpicking aside though, ROFL LMFAO are a successful band. For anyone not acquainted with them, here's a quick guide:



Red foo - afro and glasses
Sky blue - glasses no 'fro.

Er, that's it.

Likewise, their songs are equally homogenous. The formula goes: simple beat plus quirky sound effect, looped, effective raps about having fun, drinking, having fun, looking for somebody to bone, having fun, shuffling and having fun. You get the picture. It's enjoyable dance music without pretensions. What's more, in a genre that so often leaves its videos to be dominated by faceless female bodies (curves, largely), LMFAO inject a tongue in cheek self-mockery, charismatic personality and swaggering enthusiasm into the generic "sex appeal" which has become so omnipresent as to have reached a level of sexlessness previously ascribed only to Barbie and Ken dolls.

As with any popular group playing on the good time vibe though, LMFAO have their detractors. The accusations are hardly original. The music's too simple, the subject's banal, they stand for nothing, why is there a man with a box on his head? etc. And indeed, while LMFAO's particular brand of dance-rap may be quirky and original in its own new way, the ethos hardly is. From Elvis to The Monkees, from T-Rex to Kiss and from Bon Jovi to Oasis, every generation has its songsters who are just in it for one thing: to enjoy the ride while it lasts.

As a long-term strategy perhaps, it's not the best. The subject becomes tired and the group disbands or, in the worst cases, the artists burn up and expire. Yet the appeal shows no signs of diminishing. In fact, the appeal of a musical landscape that for some time was dominated by the cock-rocking bombast of machismo has in fact extended its reach. Moving out of the macho confines of rock and roll and hair metal, genres like pop, dance, hip-hop and house have all taken up the flag of enthusiasm in order to demonstrate how much fun both men and women are having with their metaphorical balls.

And why wouldn't you? Revelling in the bragadaccio of your self-assurance should not be restricted to one genre and certainly not one gender. Indeed, looking at LMFAO's Superbowl performance, it was notable for the fact it took place alongside MIA. And it was MIA in particular who stood out for her defiant (if subsequently overhyped) gesture of sticking up her middle finger. If there was any further need to illustrate the point, take a look at her video for 'Bad Girls'. Turning the Middle East into a party playground for car tricks, MIA on the one hand gives a nod to the Arab Spring, the rise in gender equality and by extension, secular government. On the other, it's just an absolutely banging track with a sick video.

And it's that self-confidence which has given grace to the rise of the latest slang word ricocheting around conversations everywhere. I think it's been about a year since I first heard the word "Swag" but there it is, still bobbing about. Part of me thinks the economic climate, has something to do with it. I mean think about it. Singing a song in a booth is actually not that glamorous. The imagination it takes to sing about having this much fun in what is essentially a sound-proof comes from the same place we use to reassure ourselves that really, things are ok and that we're plodding along just fine in the world. It's also the imagination which lets us believe that some day, we too might be capable of enjoying a life with, in the words of the well-respected Dr. Dre,"no more living hard, Barbeques every day [and] driving fancy cars".

So there we have it. Hate or love it, having the balls to be confident in your own skin is an attribute that rightly deserves to be celebrated, whoever it comes from. We may not want to be party rocking all the time, but even if it's just those two seconds of screaming ("wooahhh we're halfway there"), those are the times to feel good. Whether we follow it up or not, we know that we just might be able to go out there and do whatever we want. And really, what these under-achieving party rockers teach us, is that if you really want it you can. Personally, I'm a fan.

Wiggle wiggle wiggle,

Dodgson.]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1398880 2012-04-03T05:22:34-04:00 2012-06-03T05:12:01-04:00

Thomas Morris http://www.huffingtonpost.com/thomas-morris/
For a while now I've heard Paul Simon's song "You Can Call Me Al" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uq-gYOrU8bA as slightly more than a eulogy to the mid-life crisis. And it's not just me. Right from its opening line the jovial tune and cheerful delivery are offset by a series of darker and more complex observations:

"A man walks down the street
He says why am I soft in the middle now
Why am I soft in the middle
The rest of my life is so hard"

Listening for the first time, it's the pun on soft and hard that catches our ear. Simon jokes by playing on the contrast between weak, flabby tissue and an unforgiving existence. But, by repeating 'soft in the middle', Simon's structure lingers on the phrase. Pausing in self-examination, the lyric contemplates the spare tyre of middle age on an emotional and literal level - only to cut this reflection short in jarring monosyllables.

Now, this may just sound like a prize-winning entry for Private Eye's 'Pseud's corner'. But, if you've ever listened to 'The Sound of Silence', you'll know that this guy isn't taking his lyrics lightly. But, why the critical analysis of song lyrics? Well, other than exhibiting fine song-craft, this song also contains two particular lines that particularly resonate.

Using a similar structural composition, Simon sings:

"He says why am I short of attention
Got a short little span of attention"

Again, the repetition draws our focus on a particular word; in this case 'attention'. Paradoxically though, what we are being asked to examine is the singer's own inability to reciprocate this level of concentration. Our 'attention' is taken for granted - we, the audience, must want to hear what this voice in the wilderness is saying - but, the singer himself is seemingly indifferent to his surroundings. What's more, this is a wilderness that the singer has created for himself. Clearly surrounded by listeners (for what is a song without an audience?), the singer laments an isolation that is constructed from an unwillingness to interact with his environment.

That's not to say that Simon is wallowing in reclusive narcissism. Or if it is, it's because the world around him holds little meaning. As he continues to sing:

"I need a photo-opportunity,
I want a shot at redemption!
Don't want to end up a cartoon,
In a cartoon graveyard."

Here, the juxtaposition of a 'photo-opportunity' and 'redemption' seems to equate spiritual healing with a form of self-promotion. Likewise, by suggesting that the alternative is a demise fit only for a piece of frivolous artifice, Simon fabricates a spiritual scale - one on which the photo shoot is a pinnacle of achievement and the cartoon is the nadir.

Yet this is patently false. The photo shoot and cartoon are both material artifacts created solely for the purpose of aesthetic entertainment. As a result, Simon implicitly acknowledges that his attempt to wrestle significance into his desires is an act of metaphysical wilfulness. Trying to give life some sort of significance by means of social conventions you yourself have deemed inadequate is like borrowing more money to pay off a debt - a self-defeating task. In short, Simon's "short little span of attention" is symptomatic of an awareness that has little to no stake in the surroundings conditioning his existence.

And it is precisely this kind of short attention span that we have been taught to hate. Modern mass media alongside the omnipresent force of "the internets" have supposedly frazzled our brains to a crisp, such that we care for little and society is (*cringe*) "broken". But what this song (from 1986 by the by) and others like it actually seems to illustrate is that "not caring" comes from a fundamental unhappiness about the world around you. Short spans of attention do not reflect or propagate social breakdown, they are symptomatic illustrators of it.

For example, anger and revolution are not born out of apathy. They come from a genuine hope that out of even the most corrupt society, something better can be established. Apathy is a lamentable admission that here, in this world, there is no redemption. The corruption is so total that, like Milton's Satan, we can only reflect on any attempts to ameliorate our society with a grim and all-too cynical despair.

Only at the end of Simon's song then, are we eventually granted a reprieve. Relocating his protagonist at the bottom of a portable property food chain, the narrator sings, "Maybe it's the Third World. / Maybe it's his first time around". By introducing a qualifying possibility, Simon suggests his protagonist's novelty of place is instead a new way of imagining and incorporating his surroundings. Refreshing his perspective, the singer is free to care about the things that previously excited little to no interest at all. And the thing that triggers this renewed perspective? It's been staring the audience in the face all along. As the soundtrack for a film called The Bodyguard, the song's only really about one thing - caring for someone else:

"If you'll be my bodyguard,
I can be your long lost pal!"

With the chorus gently plodding in and out of the verses' narrative the two build to form a cohesive and hopeful redemption. The singer's mid-life crisis and crippled attention span are saved by one thing and one thing only: a genuine reason to care about anything. And its in this which I suppose I would (somewhat reluctantly) like to anchor my point about "society". We can't ask people to care, without them having something to care about.

Dodgson.]]>