Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Brendan Fevola and the Pope
This is Brendan Fevola, otherwise known as 'Fev'. He is a star of the Australian Football League. Sure enough, the AFL, like every other overpaid industry in the world, likes to have big lavish award nights / circle jerk wankfests. At these events their sporting boofheads can wear the suits that had otherwise only been used in court appearances, and the boofheads' trophy girlfriends can fulfil their greatest ambition: getting their picture in magazines sold at supermarket checkouts.
These award events used not to be broadcast live (on account of being as dull as dishwater) but now, what with Fox Sports having ten 24hr sports channels in need of filler, they qualify as that variety of filler known as 'special events'. Who watches these stupid things? I'm thinking it's the same people who read those stupid magazines, which is to say chicks. Between chicks tuning in to see what other chicks are wearing, and blokes tuning in to watch sportsmen in suits giving speeches, would anyone blame me for putting my money on the former?
Anyway, as part of what seems to be an organised campaign to turn everything into reality television, the AFL's big award night saw Brendan Fevola given a microphone and a camera crew to film him as he... um, "I don't know Fev, just run around and pull some funny shit." I doubt the brief consisted of him being told to get drunk and behave like a complete arsehole, but you know... free-alcohol-shit happens.
Sadly for our Fev, but happily for the media, his drunkenness - in view of women, horses, and everyone - hadn't been any kind of brief embarrassment. It had gone on and on with the outraged media spoilt for choice as to which clip of Fevola to show; the unintelligible screaming; the mad laughter; the beer sprayed in all directions; the crash tackles; the prat falls - it was all too bloody marvellous. And it went on and on and on.
As did the media outrage. They camped outside his house, chased him hither and yon, and diligently failed to ask the question, 'Who permitted this to happen?' Sure enough none of it had been Fevola's idea. Fevola had not called a production meeting to tell everyone how it was going to go. Fevola had not sat at the control desk in the OB van controlling the live feed, whilst the media banged on the locked door asking him to stop - "Please Fev! Think of the kiddies!" Nor had Fevola held a gun to some innocent's head to force them to screen it - "Put me on TV or I shoot this dog!" The truth is that in the long line of people between himself as drunken arsehole and that image of him screened around Australia, Fevola wasn't so much the whip hand as he was the end of it being cracked.
The shakeout was utterly predictable. Fevola, who'd so rudely barged his way into everyone's living room, was sacked from his football club and now perpetually carries the tag 'famous for his off-field incidents'. The media, which transported him to all those living rooms and handed him the key (and then, what with him being so incapable, had taken it back off him, opened the door, and then carried him across the threshold), was guilty of nothing apart from doing us all a great favour.
The media: "Look at him! Drunk! In your living room!"
Us: "Gosh! You're right! Fev, you bastard! How could you?!"
Fevola: "What? Living room?"
What's this got to do with the Pope you ask? Okay, here's the gig - In any media depiction of any event that urges us to shake our fist at someone, the media will easily be as guilty as whomever it is they're accusing. Further, whatever reasons they're putting forward (explicitly or otherwise) as to why they're showing us, will, in one way or another, be utterly laden with falsity.
In true chaos theory fractal fashion, the one-way nature of the media's finger pointing works at every scale. That endless procession of sportsmen guilty of alcohol and drug wickedness will have their sins media-dissected by hard-drinking drug fiends that make the sportsmen look like amateurs. And from penny ante sporting boofheads right through to a triple-crown wearing head of a corrupt child trafficking crime syndicate masquerading as a religion, the media and their non-existent masters are with them all the way, matching them drink for drink, child for child - been there, done that, got the thousand yard stare to go with it.
That's not to say that whomever it is we're told to hate isn't wicked. They probably are. But between that individual and the media and their masters, it will actually be no competition. The media serves many purposes but above all is the prime function to which everything else is subservient: the cameras may point in any direction except 'in'.
Best I can make out there is only one juju that counts in this world and that's the juju of many minds thinking the same thought. Clearly the media is the ultimate juju machine. Whoever controls the media is the juju king of the world. I expect that the other death cult partners, like the Vatican say, imagine that since the other gang members are equally in it up to their eyeballs that there's some safety in that. It's my melancholy duty to inform them that there isn't. In thinking this they fail to understand how it all works. Whoever has the juju machine doesn't exist. There is no crime there because there is no 'there' there. The crimes shall belong to everyone but them.
Otherwise for everyone out there cheered by the coming fall of the Vatican, you might want to keep in mind that the taking down of the Catholic wing of the death cult is a major sacrifice play by the people at the top of the pyramid. It's not done lightly and whatever cheer you might get from it should be tempered by the unpleasant thought of the banking families exultant.
I ain't here to stick up for the pope. For anyone who wants to tell me something bad about him, in all likelihood I'll agree with you. But when the media does that thing and points their juju bone, I refuse to play whatever role it is they expect from me. They can take their pre-scripted conversation and stick it up their arse. Never mind their screaming and gesticulating - for mine, this serves only to denote where not to look. It makes far more sense to look 'in' since that's where the power lays.
Catholics, Muslims, the Russians, the Chinese, Ahmadinejad, Kim Jong Il, Robert Mugabe, hell even Brendan Fevola - it's just one long line up of the usual suspects. Says the bad juju media, 'We have met the enemy and he is everyone but us. Now get killing.'
Yeah... right... I tell ya, they better blow up this internet soon or it won't be long before their juju has no mojo.
Ha! The devil unable to convince the world he doesn't exist. Oops.