There are those days when you feel you’re in the middle of one of those trailers for a black and white movie where a manly voiceover would scream out things like, “MORE FEARFUL THAN FEAR ITSELF!” and “A CITY UNDER SIEGE!” and “WHERE IS BATMAN?”
What Hong Kong has been going through for over a year is its own rocky and wobblyhobby horror show- peaceful demonstrations that morphed into violence and split a city apart.
There was a time not really that long ago though time often flies on unexpected wings at a worldwide music conference in Munich when us executives listened to a panel of young Facebook execs explain how we could use the social media platform- very new at the time- to sell more music. To work closer with music fans. Introduce new music much more cost effectively. And with more pinpoint accuracy. How MySpace was finished. But never ever thinking that this thing called “social media” would get off the ground, we never listened.
Ignorance and arrogance came into play and most of us saw their presentation as a break to grab some chocolate muffins and chat up one of the Facebookers.
We -the music industry- had successfully sued illegal file sharing site Napster and co founders Sean Parker and Shawn Fanning and believed that nothing was going to change our world. The six star lifestyle was going to continue. So much for that dream.
You can’t even get your favourite Madras Chicken Curry from Jimmy’s Kitchen in Hong Kong anymore. So how the hell does one expect to be inspired enough to continue with everything else? But one still does. Trudging up those steps. Asking for forgiveness. Seeking redemption. Always searching for that elusive burst of inspiration. Settling for mediocrity because creativity is in such short supply. Listening to talk leading nowhere.
Gave up on reading Bob or Bill’s Big Book years ago that was going to lead to finding that higher power. That was a wasted journey. Cracked. Just another crutch.
Yesterday I went through eight business meetings. All in the same place. Only one made any sense. Why? He was smart. Knew his music. Can write. Really knows this thing called social media. Still excited about new musicians. Like artists from Mongolia. Told me things I never knew. How Hip Hop existed in Mongolia over twenty years ago.
Good for racing. It’s an expression bandied about sometimes almost too liberally. That something or another is “good for racing”. Most times, it rarely is.
Yesterday at Moonee Valley, everything and everyone came together. Even those who weren’t privy to have been there. That international audience. Like many in Hong Kong who were seeing the magic of Winx for the first time. It really was good for racing.
Social media, especially Twitter, where often bile spills over into a feeding frenzy of negativity, was filled with positivity. No one tried to crash the party and dampen the mood with the usual handwringing. None of that now tiresome self righteous indignation. Those sour grapes of wrath. There was no bringing up of the usual cornflakes of personal agendas. No trolls allowed. Only positivity.
Got a pocketful of dreams And lotsa hope in my heart Hope my ship comes in In the shape of a horse Lost my mind and lost my soul Somewhere along the way Will just kick back now Let Mother Nature make my day
Gotta a lot of numbers Just hope they all add up Don’t wanna see them fade Into a discardable paper cup No time for looking down And letting negativity get in the way No need to go back into darkness When it’s all about looking up…
Something is wrong. Very wrong. It sounds like a murder of crows out there. But they’re the sounds of silence. The noise is emanating from the online world. You know, the one divorced from reality. The one with very little sense of humour. Or no humour. And where extremely angry people have an opinion about everything. Politics. Music. Hashtag movements. And of course, sports. Everyone is unfair game.
This online world is where anything goes. It’s a dysfunctional world that hides behind Freedom of Expression. And Freedom of Speech. But what exactly does this mean? And what are its side effects?
“No doubt. The very wealthy are making it impossible for we schmucks to compete. That’s why we’re out. Saw the writing on the wall. And they’ve taken all the fun out of it too. If you’re a galley slave you need to have a bit of fun, but they have everyone working too hard and being miserable with it. But they just keep banging the drum, chuck the mugs overboard and care about no one but themselves.”
They’re intangibles. Things like motivation. And inspiration. There’s then always about ensuring that priorities are not lost in the clutter. Real priorities. Not the small stuff. But, for various reasons, many of us are bogged down by the small stuff. Perhaps even addicted to them. Scared of them.
Pulverising the senses with non-stop clutter. That’s how a friend describes it. Life in today’s social media mad driven would where, try as one might to escape the tsunami of information and misinformation and information overload that we certainly don’t even need, it catches up with you. And it’s getting worse. It’s the great plague of our time. It’s what negatively affects us with everything. Yet, many keep going to that well… To the abyss.
Left Facebook and Instagram. Updating both accounts had taken over. Taken over from trying to make my real life relationship with someone go somewhere. It was my compulsive personality running the show. She tried to wean me off it. Go cold turkey. Get out more. Exercise. Sexercise. Cook. But it didn’t work. She walked.
There’s a new book out by Kristen Manning on the jockey known to many in racing as The Gauch. Darren Gauci.
Though occasionally seeing him, especially after the night meetings at Happy Valley when he was riding in Hong Kong, I only got to really meet the gentleman over a coffee when in Melbourne. That was almost two years ago. It was at Mr Hives in the Crown. We talked. We joked. Got to know each other as well as one can in a couple of hours.
“Does horse racing really need to be creative? Doesn’t it kinda just sell itself?” It was a two part question asked by a small group of very international creative types during a long lunch earlier this week at a hotel in Hong Kong.
Some had had their flights canceled because of a rampaging Typhoon Mangkhut and were taking shelter from the storm. Others were soaking in the experience of being caught in a real typhoon for the first time. My thoughts were with friends in the Philippines. And those here and their families and property there. Meanwhile Twitter went into such ferocious overdrive with constant updates and videos from so many alarmists, it needed its caffeine intake taken away.