Goodbye Internet

the-end-03It’s 8am and I wake up (there are some benefits to living so close to work). The first thing I do is try desperately to turn my phone alarm off. Swipe to turn off? Sounds easy enough until the last millimetre and then it seems not to register my finger. I’m sure this is an Android conspiracy to further frustrate me of a morning but that’s another story. Now vaguely alive and with my phone in my hand, I go immediately to the news – did any celebrities die in my sleep? Is Z-Day here? What has UKIP done now? I spend about 15 minutes trawling through two different news apps, then reddit, then twitter. By the time I fall out of bed, I know what’s going on in the world, and I just want to crawl back up into bed and hide for about a century.

Now I don’t want to be a pessimist, but being British comes with a certain level of cynicism that we feel is our civic duty to impart to the world. No, it can’t all be good news all the time. Yes, people are going to die, natural disasters are going to happen, taxes will be raised, people imprisoned, but lately it’s all been washing over me like a continuous version of that one wave at the beach that knocks you down when you’re a little kid. Every day as I wake up, I hold my own head down under the depressing waters of how utterly abominable humanity is being this morning, and only surface when a cute cat picture floats my way.

It’s not as if I’m suddenly realising that the ratio of bad news to good is less 50:50 and more like 99:1, it’s that over the past few months it seems as if we, as a race, have been increasingly lousy. No matter what issue it is, we seem to have reached some sort of ditch and have chosen to lie there for a little while and be gross. Politics, infrastructure, the environment, the internet, celebrities, foreign policy, wars, general death and disease have reached peak crumminess and I think I just need a break.

I think I used to be able to sniff out the happier stories each day to temper the oppressive dark cloud, but perhaps I’m just a bit out of practice. I like being positive and staying away from negativity as much as I can. I simply have better things to do than pour scorn on someone else’s likes and dislikes, revel in drone strikes, or to read the comments section of a website. I like being buoyed along by the thought that we’re improving as a race, and we are. When I think of the advances in science and medicine, the overall trend towards being nicer people, and (how could I forget) the fact that there are new Star Wars films coming out, I get so incredibly happy that everything seems to be great. It seems that people just want to hear about all the garbage going on instead of the great things. And so, when we’re told every day that we’re all doomed we just sort of go with it, and choose to believe that things truly are shit. They’re not – it just sells more newspapers.

But perhaps I just need a little break. A hiatus from the media deluge of depressive depravity. And I know that the title of this post is Goodbye Internet, but I’m not quitting the internet altogether. I mean, how on earth would I survive? Netflix is here! But for just one month, I’m quitting news. I’m leaving all sites that pepper me with pessimism, and I’m going to sit here, eat pizza, watch Netflix, and count down the days till Star Wars (as of today there are 407). Feel free to join me. For those of you who don’t join, feel free to spend these next 30 days tidying everything up on the planet so it’s good for when I get back.


Facebook: A Love Story

heart-facebookWhen this most social of all the social networks came out and we all piled on the bandwagon, we adored Facebook. 2007-8 were Facebook’s golden years of unbridled and unabashed fanboy love. Here was the thing we’d all not known that we’d been waiting for – the answer to days of boredom and the perfect excuse to put off essays. Long live the internet!

As the years went on, our marriage to Facebook deteriorated and now many of us are barely holding on and keeping up a pretence at affection. We openly cheat on the side with Twitter and Tumblr (they really know know to make us feel good) and spend the rest of our time resenting all the quirky little things that made us fall in love in the first place. Some have even divorced Facebook and gone to live in happier parts of the internet, like BuzzFeed.

I frequently see blog posts (not dissimilar to many of my own I might add) in which the blogger outlines the many ways to be insufferable on Facebook (that article truly is quite insightful) and we’re constantly reminded just how annoying people whose online “friendship” (that word is always in quotes) that we accepted of our own volition can be on this free internet service that we are in no way obliged to continue using. It’s torture, really, it is! It’s getting to the point that if I saw a Facebook status that read “Grrrr! I’m so ANNOYED at cryptic Facebook statuses!” I honestly wouldn’t be able to tell whether or not it was intentionally ironic or if it was an actual thing that somebody wrote in all seriousness.

But let’s just slow this hate-mobile down a tad shall we? Why do we still use Facebook if it’s just so gosh-darn shite? Yes, it’s useful for inviting people to events that they will passive-agressively click “Maybe Attending” to. It’s sometimes fun to revel in just how good your life is compared to that of that person you always despised back in school. And sometimes people post funny things (I mean, where else on the internet can we find such delights…). No, the truth is that we use Facebook because we like it. If you’re on Facebook right now, you actually like it. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be on it or it will have been seven days since your last login (bless them Father, for they have sinned). I do have friends who hate Facebook, and you know how I know they hate Facebook? Because they’re not on it. They’ve bitten the bullet, cut the cord, eaten the cake, and all other manner of bizarre idioms. The rest of us who are still here actually and actively enjoy the experience, it’s just that we’ve been told that we don’t or that we shouldn’t.

The internet has latched onto the small nugget of discontent for Facebook and informed us that Actually, We All Hate Facebook Now And Nobody On There Is Really Your Friend Except Maybe Your Mum (But Even She’s More Interested In Farmville). By blowing the slight grating of certain aspects on the site (and there are many little things that irk us) we are now reliably informed that although we must keep on using it, we have to hate it at the same time. Cyber-Sadomasochism at its finest.

The truth is, I rarely get that annoyed on Facebook. Even when people keep their wedding photos as their profile pictures for over a year, change them and even go back to the photos (we get it, you’re blissfully married, has nothing else developed in your life?) When people post endlessly about sport (Was anybody truly outraged by Gareth Bale’s transfer amount? Literally everybody knew that the day would come where a man would be sold for that much money). On Sundays when people Jesus the place up (seriously, it’s as if you’ve all been given God homework – “Go home and post a random verse of a hymn and you’ll get an extra acre in heaven” or something). Not to mention when people brag endlessly, complain eternally, or just wont stop posting pictures of their fugly kids. Honestly, it’s only moderately annoying. I’m a big boy, I can get over it. In fact, if you ever do something that honestly annoys me, I’ll either tell you, hide you from my newsfeed (who said Facebook updates were useless?) or just unfriend you. It’s pretty simple.

And yes, the people I have on Facebook may not be as engaged with my life as the friends I see on a regular basis but there’s a reason I added them. I to whatever extent am interested in your life and would like to know that you’re not dead yet and are in fact having a nice time. No, I probably will never see you ever again but at least we can enjoy the planet together and bitch about it on this website.

To Be Or Not To Be On The Internet

header 1I often wonder why we use social media. Well, aside from the obvious uses of keeping in touch with friends far away, organising events, and things of that nature. I mean, why tweet? Why write that status that you just know will annoy people and generate comments like bacteria swarm and multiply in a droplet of water? Why write a blog? Sometimes I think it all is simply a technological way of grabbing your friends, or indeed complete strangers from the internet, by the lapels and screaming “Love me! I’m important! Listen to my ground breaking opinions which I stole from somebody else!”

Of course, there is this side to things, and we are all guilty of such narcissistic technological sins from time to time (some more than others that’s for sure) but for the most part I think we can see why some people are like that when it really comes down to it.

But I find that the bigger question is “Why not?” Ok, so let’s all not ask why not when it comes to mind-numbingly moronic Facebook statuses; but when it comes to the question of whether or not to write something and put it out there, if you feel that you have talent as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this tweet “Be uprooted from the depths of my brain and be planted on the internet for all eternity”.

After all, how else can I fully enjoy this hilarious thought unless I share it with hundreds of other mindless internet pilgrims? That, at least, is how I choose to look at the world. I write because I can. I tweet in the vain hope that you find me as funny as I do. I blog because I have bugger all else to do with these words in my head. Yes, I appropriate phrases and sentences from other people to use in my writing (if you didn’t notice, I ripped off both H.G. Wells and Jesus in this one) but as I see it, art is made to be shared. In the words of our great and glorious king Oscar Wilde: “Good writers borrow, great writers steal.” Oh, and if you ever find a typo in my writing, it’s because I’m following another maxim from a literary giant: “Write drunk, edit sober” – Ernest Hemingway

Yet, for all this, there are just some things on the internet that we simply do not understand:


playbutton I love the internet. You know I do. If the internet was destroyed, I would spend all my newly found free time working on the international project called “Bring Back The Internet”. I would die for the internet. That’s odd. Mostly because I’ve only this moment realised that I would die for the internet. It’s rather disturbing to realise that you would willingly give your life for a collection of 1s and 0s. I think I need a moment, hang on.

Life shaking epiphanies aside, you need no further proof that I am an all out internet enthusiast. I mean come on, that’s even in my Twitter bio.

I stand beside the internet greats: the #Occupy movement, Annonymous,  all the glorious internet citizens who write, draw, film, sing, and create solely for the joy of sharing with everybody else. I accept the dark corners of morons who debate how right the Mayans were, scream obscenities at people thousands of miles when shot immediately after a respawn on COD, and even the pits of hell that house websites belonging to Westbro Baptist Church. Hey, the internet is for everyone – that’s what the creator of the world wide web said. That includes the crazies.

But what I will not stand for is auto play. This idea spawned from the depths of corporate greed and sheer senseless inanity is one of the few things that sends me into a blind rage. Ok so there are a lot more than a few things that make me see red but let’s move past this*. Autoplay, for those of you blissfully as yet unaware of this threat to freedom and decency everywhere, is when a video or a song automatically begins to play on a webpage when you didn’t ask it to. This slightly includes YouTube preroll ads but what I’m really talking about are news stories that have hidden video content at the bottom of the page that plays for no reason (Huffinton Post I’m glaring at you dammit), blogs that have very loud songs of the worst genres imaginable that blare out their crass garbage and then hide the bloody pause button. If this is the way the internet is going then the terrorists have already won ladies and gentlemen.

But one odd gem from the autoplay world is this website. (go on, click it – you know you want to) What should be a relatively innocuous visit to a sushi restaurant in downtown LA, turns into an oddly erotic background ear raping that gives a whole new meaning to the phrase “food porn”. I mean, if I want dodgy Japanese pop with cringeworthy lyrics all about how good food is, I’ll just put on some anime. Unsure as whether to laugh or cry at this travesty, I did both.

*The longer list of things that send Andy off on one is as follows: Twilight, 50 Shades of Grey and other awful literature, homeopathy, people who stubbornly refuse to “get” sarcasm, the NRA, members of the Conservative Party, members of the Republican Party, Westbro Baptist Church, people who think that irregardless is a word, slow walkers, Sean Penn, unforgivably bad films that are so bad they go past the “so bad it’s good” and just head on into the “dire”, people who think that Of Mice And Men and The Catcher In The Rye are bad, horoscopes, creationists, paparazzi, football, people who think that The Beatles are objectively better than other bands (I’m ok with the opinion that they’re spectacular, just not with the idea that they are on some sort of pedastal that no other band can reach), people who can’t argue properly, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, climate change nay-sayers, the Pope, people who ask me to speak French when they’ve known me for all of five minutes.
I’ll stop now I promise.

Unrelated Video Of The Day:

How Did You Two Meet?

Top-Ten-Places-To-Meet-Girls-Women-Girlfriend-Bookstores-Library Now there’s a question I don’t like. Not that I particularly enjoy questions about serious life things in general, I prefer to babble on endlessly about nothing in particular and spew factoids like my life depends upon it, but occasionally people seem not to realise this and so ask me the question. Not that I’m actually in a relationship now, but in every relationship I’ve been in, no matter how depressingly short lived they may have been, some poor sod has always found the time to ask “so how did you two meet then?” I don’t have anything against you if you’ve previously been the one to ask this, I’m not having a go or anything so don’t fret your pretty little heads.

Now perhaps it’s because I’m from a rather conservative upbringing where boy meets girl and prays earnestly about whether he should ask somebody he knows about whether he should pray about asking her out for coffee, that stories of how person A met person B are often quite sweet, if more than a little too vanilla; but does nobody else see how the question could potentially be problematic? In this glorious golden age of technobabble and e-love, it is only natural that a huge number of relationships begin, or at least are made possible, on the internet. Natural yes. Socially acceptable? Now there’s an odd little point. Anybody who’s ever met anybody from the internet will identify with the feeling that somehow, somebody somewhere disapproves of the fashion of your initial rendez-vous. It’s mental, but it’s still in the back of your head. Thus, when inquisitive friend X asks where I met my paramour, I invariably freeze for a second and weigh up my options. A) Come clean and say I met them on the internet B) Invent a plausible place in which we could conceivably have met and thus have to remember to tell the person in question that I told my friends that’s where we met and would they mind awfully if we just went along with this ruse for the sake of avoiding social awkwardness or C) Invent a blatant lie which is also a funny story that, by virtue of it being both funny and wildly untrue, dispels any further questioning and thereby avoids the question all together.

Having employed all three of these in the past, I can testify that A is a bad idea, B is a bad idea if you forget to cover your tracks, and C is a bad idea if the interrogator actually wants to know where we met. As unbelievable as it may seem, a beautiful story crafted on the spot about how our eyes met across the corridor of the International Space Station as it plummeted toward earth and how we spent weeks adrift in an escape pod lost in the Pacific Ocean where our love blossomed into the stuff of fairy tales and romantic novels, does little to deter a determined inquisitor. Shame.

And what really bugs me is why people actually want to know. I kind of accept that sometimes it’s just a conversation filler but when pressed for an answer (as I have been an odd number of times) I do have to wonder what the motivation is that drives the person to acquire such a boring snippet of knowledge. What does it matter if I met him on Grindr or picked them up in a seedy bar* and then didn’t mind them when the beer goggles came off? It changes nothing to what’s actually happening apart from to inject some little needed awkwardness into a conversation.

But meeting somebody on the internet is not even the only embarrassing location for a meet-cute. Just picture the scene: you’re old and grey with age and your wife/husband/whatever is sat with you in your favourite armchairs and all your grandchildren are gathered around you and one of them, the annoying little brat, pipes up with the question “Granddad/Nanna how did you and Nanna/Granddad meet?” [delete as appropriate] How will you feel if your answer has to be “Well sonny, it was a dark cold night and I was smashed off my face when I saw your nan across the dance floor and she was shakin’ what God gave her and I thought to myself “I’ve got to get myself some of that” and so I ground up against her for a good hour then we got out and went back to her place and your mum happened.” Talk about teaching life lessons too early.

That being said, I remember asking my granddad (though on second thoughts, it seems more likely that he told the story without much prompting) where he met my nan and, as I recall, the answer involves a dance of some sort. In my head, this has now morphed into a good old fashioned Rock n Roll jam fest with some Elvis blasting out and hips gyrating all over the place. Granddad saw just how good nan was at the Jive and it was love at first sight. Different time, same story.

* Now, just to clarify here people, I make no habit of picking people up in bars but as I’m sure some of you will revel in confirming, it has been known to happen *hangs head in shame*. But that’s enough about my dating habits. Go bother somebody else for their love stories.

Totally Unrelated Video Of The Day

Come Fly With Me

Bumbling across the internet you do find a host of interesting things. Today I stumbled across a low cost South African airline which, quite refreshingly doesn’t take itself too seriously. Fly Kulua, and you’ll get much more than the usual monotonous drone of the flight crew, these guys are trained in sarcasm and wit, even their planes’ paintjobs are tongue in cheek or perhaps they honestly don’t know where the pilot sits or where the door is…

Kulula airline attendants make an effort to make the in-flight “safety lecture” and announcements a bit more entertaining. Here are some real examples that have been heard or reported:

On a Kulula flight, (there is no assigned seating, you just sit where you want) passengers were apparently having a hard time choosing, when a flight attendant announced, “People, people we’re not picking out furniture here, find a seat and get in it!”


On another flight with a very “senior” flight attendant crew, the pilot said, “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve reached cruising altitude and will be turning down the cabin lights. This is for your comfort and to enhance the appearance of your flight attendants.”


On landing, the stewardess said, “Please be sure to take all of your belongings.. If you’re going to leave anything, please make sure it’s something we’d like to have.”


“There may be 50 ways to leave your lover, but there are only 4 ways out of this airplane.”


“Thank you for flying Kulula. We hope you enjoyed giving us the business as much as we enjoyed taking you for a ride.”


As the plane landed and was coming to a stop at Durban Airport , a lone voice came over the loudspeaker: “Whoa, big fella. WHOA!”


After a particularly rough landing during thunderstorms in the Karoo , a flight attendant on a flight announced, “Please take care when opening the overhead compartments because, after a landing like that, sure as hell everything has shifted.”


From a Kulula employee: ” Welcome aboard Kulula 271 to Port Elizabeth.  To operate your seat belt, insert the metal tab into the buckle, and pull tight. It works just like every other seat belt; and, if you don’t know how to operate one, you probably shouldn’t be out in public unsupervised.”


“In the event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, masks will descend from the ceiling. Stop screaming, grab the mask, and pull it over your face. If you have a small child travelling with you, secure your mask before assisting with theirs. If you are travelling with more than one small child, pick your favourite.”


Weather at our destination is 50 degrees with some broken clouds, but we’ll try to have them fixed before we arrive. Thank you, and remember, nobody loves you, or your money, more than Kulula Airlines.”


“Your seats cushions can be used for flotation; and in the event of an emergency water landing, please paddle to shore and take them with our compliments.”


“As you exit the plane, make sure to gather all of your belongings.  Anything left behind will be distributed evenly among the flight attendants. Please do not leave children or spouses.”


And from the pilot during his welcome message: “Kulula Airlines is pleased to announce that we have some of the best flight attendants in the industry. Unfortunately, none of them are on this flight!”


Heard on Kulula 255 just after a very hard landing in Cape Town : The flight attendant came on the intercom and said, “That was quite a bump and I know what y’all are thinking. I’m here to tell you it wasn’t the airline’s fault, it wasn’t the pilot’s fault, it wasn’t the flight attendant’s fault, it was the asphalt.”


Overheard on a Kulula flight into Cape Town , on a particularly windy and bumpy day: During the final approach, the Captain really had to fight it. After an extremely hard landing, the Flight Attendant said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to The Mother City. Please remain in your seats with your seat belts fastened while the Captain taxis what’s left of our
airplane to the gate!”


Another flight attendant’s comment on a less than perfect landing “We ask you to please remain seated as Captain Kangaroo bounces us to the terminal.”


An airline pilot wrote that on this particular flight he had hammered his ship into the runway really hard. The airline had a policy which required the first officer to stand at the door while the passengers exited, smile, and give them a “Thanks for flying our airline. He said that, in light of his bad landing, he had a hard time looking the passengers in the eye, thinking that someone would have a smart comment.  Finally everyone had gotten off except for a little old lady walking with a cane. She said, “Sir, do you mind if I ask you a question?”  “Why, no Ma’am,” said the pilot. “What is it?” The little old lady said, “Did we land, or were we shot down?”


After a real crusher of a landing in Johannesburg , the attendant came on with, “Ladies and Gentlemen, please remain in your seats until Captain Crash and the Crew have brought the aircraft to a screeching halt against the gate. And, once the tire smoke has cleared and the warning bells are silenced, we will open the door and you can pick your way through the wreckage to the terminal..”


Part of a flight attendant’s arrival announcement: “We’d like to thank you folks for flying with us today.. And, the next time you get the insane urge to go blasting through the skies in a pressurized metal tube, we hope you’ll think of Kulula Airways.”


Heard on a Kulula flight. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you wish to smoke, the smoking section on this airplane is on the wing.. If you can light ‘em, you can smoke ‘em.”


A plane was taking off from Durban Airport . After it reached a  comfortable cruising altitude, the captain made an announcement over the intercom, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking.  Welcome to Flight Number 293, non-stop from Durban to Cape Town , The weather ahead is good and, therefore,  we should have a smooth and uneventful flight.. Now sit back and relax… OH, MY GOODNESS!”  Silence  followed, and after a few minutes, the captain came back on the intercom and said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I am so sorry if I scared you earlier.  While I was talking to you, the flight attendant accidentally spilled a cup of hot coffee in my lap. You should see the front of my pants!”  A passenger then yelled, “That’s nothing. You should see the back of mine!”

Totally Unrelated Video Of The Day:

This Kony 2012 Thing…

Kony 2012 I first heard of Joseph Kony back in about 2006 in an article in The Times (or perhaps it was The Guardian) in which some crazy journalist went into the heart of Africa to interview Kony and other members of the LRA. The article shocked me that people like that even existed and made me want Kony brought to justice. But then I put the paper down and forgot all about him as we all would.

So when I watched the Kony 2012 video I was moved obviously, to want something done about this guy who is still going around killing people, raping them, encouraging cannibalism, and abducting children to make them soldiers. I mean, who wouldn’t right? I, along with millions of others, posted the video on my Facebook wall and thought that that was that.

Immediately there was a comment telling me to read an article detailing the various shortcomings in and saying that the whole Kony 2012 thing should not be encouraged. I was accused of hopping on the great bandwagon and just being the next westerner to feel the pangs of white guilt. Er, sorry what?

While I was never going to give to Kony 2012 (organisations like this seldom get my support – judge away) I was fully on board with the whole idea to make Kony infamous. Sidenote – infamous is the word to use, not famous. George Clooney is famous, Hitler is infamous, i.e. famous for doing something bad. Making Kony famous is about as laudable as giving Bin Laden a Nobel prize. It is an excellent idea to keep such a detestable man in the public eye so that he is not ignored as he mostly has been for the past few years by the western powers. Not that they’ve been unaware of him or they haven’t tried to capture him before, it’s just they’ve kinda not cared about him as much as they did about Bin Laden, Gaddaffi, or Kim Jong Il. Those three names were all known before their deaths. The average person wouldn’t know Kony from Ke$ha a month ago. You really have to agree that keeping Kony’s name buzzing in the public consciousness is a good thing.

And if that’s the whole point, what exactly is wrong with bandwagoning this all the way to the bank? Bandwagons, while infuriating at times, do not negate validity. Ok, so some people on this particular bandwagon wouldn’t know Uganda from say, Namibia or Nigeria, but would they be able to point to North Korea? Afganistan? Iraq or Iran? Just being ignorant, although it increases scepticism does not remove your enthusiasm or the right to campaign against injustice.

Now, as it turns out, has issues. And not just issues that can be lightly brushed aside either. Let’s start with the video itself: right from the start I felt emotionally blackmailed and manipulated. I hate being manipulated into things. Yet although I deplored some of the heart-string yanking that went on, there was also more. It was stupidly simplified. Not that this is necessarily a bad thing, but when you’re asking for money, it’s a bit dodgy to simplify the issue so a five year old could understand and then not to provide other sources to further explain and back you up. Come on guys, this is Campaigning 101. But then again, these things alone are the teeny tiny tip on a rather large ice berg.

I could go into huge detail here but I won’t because you’ve all probably heard and read the articles about this already. Suffice to say that Invisible Children is in bed with some organisations which are almost as sickening as Kony and the LRA itself (the Ugandan army, some Ugandan churches and political movements) and they need to be taken with an entire salt shaker. But hey guys – did anybody with a brain actually think that was a big gang of angels here? No – and that’s not what they’re trying to say. Well ok so maybe they are saying that but hey – all this info, while it obviously makes you think several times about actually giving to them, does not remove the fact that now the entire western world actually knows about Joseph Kony and lists him on a par with Kim Jong-whatever-his-son’s-name-is and his ilk. This is a good thing.

But will it make a difference? Well it’s definitely going to do more than was being done a month ago right? Yes, this would all be helped along massively if the US actually got involved with the International Criminal Court instead of sitting out in the cold with Russia, Iran, Libya, and Zimbabwe. But the fact that people will now be doing stuff and campaigning for Kony to be brought to justice, with or without Invisible Children, has to be commended.

Perhaps the whole US troops on the ground in Uganda is a little unsettling for you. Yes, it is a little dubious and raises numerous questions about endgames and where equipment is going to end up etc, but in my mind the scenarios that have been postulated mostly seem to be fair prices to pay for finally stopping Joseph Kony.

To sum up: has massive issues and needs an overhaul. However, its efforts are incredibly impressive if nothing else and should be applauded in bringing Joseph Kony and the LRA to international public attention. I would much rather an African force capture the man, but if they honestly require western help then I say we give it, if only to save more innocent civilians from the various atrocities done by members of the Ugandan army. Let’s stop this patronising nonsense that because Kony 2012 supporters may be jumping on various bandwagons, the cause is unworthy of attention or action. There is evil in the world, and we do this planet and ourselves a disservice in ignoring the fact.

Will anything be done? Can Kony actually be brought to justice? I don’t know. But I do know that I’d rather stand with those calling for action than with those bypassing the issue to criticise those with good intentions.

Kinda not very related video of the day:
You know what? If somebody actually shouted at the public like this, they perhaps people would wake up and pay attention.