We are reliably
informed, by those upon whom we reliably rely for our information, that we
live in a “post-truth” age.
At a time when
assertions of “facts” are destabilising at best and terrifying at worst, it’s a
phrase, which, like the foreign sounding “Iced Caramel Macchiato” have become part of our linguistic
currency. But what is the current value of the truth pound, dollar, euro or
yen?
Donald Trump who is
soon to prise the reigns of power from the stunned and resentful staff of the
stunned and resentful White House, knows what truth is.
It’s the words he’s used
to galvanise the Electoral College who chose to put him in the top job.
Irrespective of the fact that Hilary Clinton managed to gain the majority of
the popular vote, Donald Trump is going to march purposefully up to the
microphone, place his hand on the bible and stick it to the liberal elite;
before building his wall.
Nothing, to my mind,
says “anti-elitist, pro-inclusivity”
than a great, big, physical barrier, at the border between countries.
But I was talking
about truth.
Katie Hopkins tells
the truth. She has experienced a stratospheric career trajectory out of doing
just that. She tells us all the time that she “tells it like it is”. She tells
us this with more of that fabrication destroying currency, called words. Words
that triumphantly, bring to our consciousness, real and present societal
dangers like “being overweight”, “children’s names”, “compassion”, and “refugees
who drown whilst pursuing sanctuary”.
Nigel Farage is
another truth teller. He nobly led his supporters and those who aren’t his
supporters but who were afraid for the NHS, to the truth laden Brexit which
we’re all so looking forward to and which our government are handling so well.
Nothing says democracy
more than the UK Government, challenging the decision of high court judges who have spent their
lives upholding truth and justice. No one could argue either, with the truth
inherent in detailing the sexuality of one of those judges on the front page of
a national newspaper, the day after the ruling. Because apparently that matters.
Both Farage and Hopkins champions of the average Jo and Josephine, are close friends of the Donald. They
wafted away the pungent aroma of challenges to their truth, which filled our
lungs, concerning their friend as the presidential race began in earnest.
As that aroma hardened
into a stench, they joined the chorus of loyal Trump supporters in reassuring
us that Tax issues, sexual assault, racism, islamophobia, misogyny and
punishment for women exercising control over their own uterus, were simply the ranting
of a country and indeed a world who had been lied to by the establishment.
Nothing to my mind
says anti-establishment more than a rich, white, Christian, heterosexual,
businessman, TV star, bragging about how he can do as he wishes with a woman’s
genitalia, because he’s famous. When
it comes to locker room banter, Donald is a perfect 10.
So where do all of us
feature in the unstoppable rise of post truth. Do we even care as we settle
down for a bit more of the panacea of reality TV shows, punctuated briefly by our
time on social media nobly haranguing those who dare not to wear a poppy.
As the hate crimes
soar and the written rape threats to women MP’s multiply we all need to smile.
Disabled people have long been the scapegoat de jour but you won’t find any truth
there either.
Fortunately we have
had our eyes opened to the truth in respect of disabled people, who irritatingly
express a wish to exist, eat and have a roof over their heads. Fortunately
truth tellers who lead the DWP had a plan of honesty which pre dates the post
truth Johnny and Jenny come lately’s.
Any sickness benefit
claimants were politely instructed to attend interviews, where they were expected to
answer truthfully, honest questions about their health by highly qualified
assessors. The myriad and complex nature of medical training that requires years of study in both mental and physical health, can in the post truth
era, be desiccated into inquiring of the claimant whether they can, in fact,
lift a cardboard box or place a pen into their top pocket.
Nothing to me says,
“Fit for Work” more than the man who died from a heart attack after collapsing
in one of these assessment centres. The letter his family received from the DWP
stating those words after his funeral, bears out my point too.
The Work and Pensions
Secretary Damian Green MP was also truthful in his critique of “I Daniel
Blake”. The film by Ken Loach detailed many accounts of those who queue at the food
banks, which feed hundreds of thousands of people who have been, in truth,
sanctioned into starvation.
Damian Green hadn’t
seen it, when he criticised it, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t an expert in being able to
truthfully challenge the fictitious nature of the annoyingly well-researched
film. Damian Green had no reason not to champion his DWP employees. He just
forgot to champion the employees who had told the truth to Ken Loach, as Green,
with absolutely no agenda whatsoever, branded the film “a fiction”. Columnist Camilla Long also added her
doubtful view as to the truth inherent in the film including the fact that her partner is from Newcastle and he doesn’t know any carpenters called
Daniel.
Facts like these need
to be heard. Never mind Peter Bradshaw and Mark Kermode with their complimentary critiques based on their expert experience of
reviewing films. We know that the
post truth era has no time for experts.A quick look at their timeline will show
the discerning reader that they never stop promoting a litany of liberal and
elitist lies. They may be well concealed as film reviews or tweets about other
things but look closely, look through the lens of post truth and you will see
the veracity of my statement.
If they like films so
much, perhaps they should go and live in North Korea.
Nothing to me says “Palme
D’Or winning film” more than the suggestion of an entire fabrication, which can
easily be discounted and disavowed by the government responsible for it’s creation
and which tens of thousands of benefit claimants have embraced, as an accurate
representation of their lives. The
conspiracy theory inherent in that collusion knocks Area 51 into a cocked hat,
because no one likes a liar Ken.
But I have drifted
away from my main point, which was about the inconvenient post truth, truth,
that Donald Trump is going to be the new President. He is trusted by many
millions of Americans and much more importantly, he is trusted by Katie Hopkins,
Nigel Farage, Kanye West, and Milo Yiannopoulos. I’m sure like me, these people
are definitely the ones to whom you listen when making important decisions like
choosing the person to carry the responsibility of punching in the nuclear
codes.
He may be feared, by
some, but those who fear him just don’t understand him, or indeed the new Vice
President Elect and supporter of musical theatre, Mike Pence. A fan of the, in
no way unethical, gay conversion therapy.
What kind of world are we inhabiting where a Vice President elect can’t
attend the theatre anymore, without being politely reminded by an actor not to
forget those who need the administration to support them?
I was incandescently offended, as only a
Brietbart employee instructs us definitely, not to be.
This dynamic duo have
a mission, they are honest, they are a break from the dull boring ideals of
Presidents of the past like Barack Obama who wanted to do reprehensible things, like bring health care to millions of disenfranchised Americans.
Thankfully politicians
like Hilary Clinton, who used email and gave speeches with styled hair and
whilst wearing make-up, are going to be a thing of the past. As an experienced
Senator (2001-2009), Secretary of State (2009-2013) and First Lady (1993-2001)
what does she know about running a country?
Donald knows how to
run a golf club and a hotel chain which is better than a country, because those
sand traps don’t rake themselves, nor does the toilet paper form itself into a
pointed edge and that’s what really matters.
Details like that along with racist walls, racist registers, misogynistic loss of reproductive rights and staying up to date with your "in no way embarrassing" Twitter feed, will make America and by extension, the world great again.
I say we give them a
chance. Post truth is the new truth, so stop whining about rights and grab
yourself some pussy.
