We are becoming a nation of pseuds.

How many times are we accosted on the internet with the fakery that is #YOLO, the Facebook statuses telling us how grateful we are, and the Twitter feeds which tell us to be aspirational and ask for ‘peace and blessinz’? I, for the record, have been on the receiving end of this stream of fancy codswallop dozens of times, and I haven’t the slightest compliment to give the spreaders of such wank that is becoming a growing trend. I have a theory, perhaps one shared by my fellow observers of the habits of the internet: these people say these things not because they mean anything whatsoever, as broad generalisations don’t do so anyway; they do so because it makes them seem intelligent, as if they have a valuable contribution to give to the world, as if they aspire to be the next Marco Polo or Da Vinci. That is the definition of a ‘pseud’, ladies and gentlemen, and this title is no longer solely bestowed upon columnists in broadsheets or crap authors who made it to print. We are all now partaking in this redistribution of the dregs of worthless ersatz-intellectualism, and this is our own doing.

In my opinion, after gold, the US dollar and the Chinese yuan (order may change in the next five years), the fourth most highly-prized commodity is intelligence. It is the new currency in an ever-unstable and fast-changing world. If you are intelligent, you will be able to do number-crunching in a powerful bank, you will be able to publish a book that sells well and makes a valid point; your voice will be heard and it will influence others in more ways than one. But here lies the problem. We all believe ourselves to be intelligent, that every single human being has a talent. The currency of intelligence is being infiltrated with a deluge of counterfeit coins; homemade, bad quality and worth nothing when analysing its actual value. We are doing what the Nazis failed to achieve against the pound sterling; to counterfeit so much money so that the value of a currency depreciates so much that the actual coins, made of the actual copper and nickel, is less evident and depreciates regardless. And now, as a society, in a zombie-like fashion of unconscious destruction, we are doing the same to intelligence, so that the difference between inflated and actual intelligence becomes, at face value, very small. This is dangerous, in case you needed confirming.

I say that the cause of such a trend is due to humanity’s want for information. The gathering for information, the traditional way of calculating someone’s intelligence, is now easier than ever, thanks to the internet. But our need for information has spurred the rise of a misinformation that seems so indistinguishable from the real facts that it is being hoarded in a way that damages necessary judgement. And this misinformation is being spread through word of mouth and the wish of the majority to show it off to one another, to dazzle them into sheer shock and oblivion, is becoming ever clearer.

In this process, we have lost the ability to say ‘I don’t know’. That seems the true saying of someone with intelligence, as that phrase, albeit in the right context and in the right manner, seems to assert their want to know, from a wiser person. When did you last hear the phrase ‘I don’t know’ in a lecture, in a book club or other ‘pseud gathering’? In an age where we take gladly the opportunity to make our voices heard by those who are, inevitably, not as knowledgeable as those in higher places, the aforementioned phrase is seen to be a ‘faux pas’. The only people committing the ‘faux pas’ are those who limit the phrase’s usage where most people are not expected to know vast amounts of  knowledge of a niche interest. This does not mean that the person who doesn’t know about Julius Caesar is, in fact, a genius or a guru, but that the repression of knowledge of what was previously the unknown is just plain stupid.

Yes, I am angry and concerned about this. Thanks to Twitter, we are all allowed to express our views, without the ‘hindrances’ of editors and a slightly hostile audience that you would find with newspapers. Perhaps it’s better in the long-run that we don’t pay for Twitter, whilst we pay for newspapers and books. If you’re going to print something on paper, it may as well be worth it.

A critique of lad culture

‘Oi! Oi! Oi! Oi! Who are ya! Who are ya!’Let me breath out my sigh of sheer embarrassment, one on so many levels: on nationality, on gender, and on a human level. Western civilisation is said to be falling to bits by doomsday reckoners and doomsday reckoners in suits, aka economists, and it seems that the general populace of 15-25 year olds have bought the fallacy, by reverting to chants and heavy drinking, and by winding back the clock on a hundred years or so of progression towards making every human being equal. The barbarians don’t seem to be waiting at the gates, but seem to be wallowing in the mud and dirt, and putting aside decency in cut-and-thrust fashion, inside the city walls. This is lad culture. It must go.

There are three aspects that specifically bother me in regards to men, often dressed as Fred Perry mannequins but with none of the elegance, acting as one of the ‘lads’ in what seems to be a desperate attempt to hold on to the remaining youth they have. Firstly, it’s the machismo, a totally unnecessary desire to model oneself on Adonis and then try to outdo him. ‘Go on Adonis, you pussy, man up,’ a lad shouts, full of fake bravado. Adonis should have the wisdom to punch the lad in the balls, not least because that’s what I would do in that situation. And it’s that phrase, ‘Man up,’ which is misandry as much it is silly – the last time I noticed, I have male genitals and I don’t have female ones, and thus makes me as man as you can get – a male human being. As much as this sounds petty, would we dare to ask a woman to ‘woman up’, unless we still lived in the seventies? ‘Come on, woman up, why haven’t you taken my coat and hat off, prepared me dinner, and give me sex when I please?’ I admit, I’m exaggerating but the inability for a lad to judge someone for a large part on matching gender roles doesn’t set a good impression on anyone.

And part of this gender role is to drink heavily. Once upon a time, people went to the pub, they had two or three rounds of drinks, a couple of cigarettes and went home. Now, there’s the ‘pre-lash’, the process of inebriation before being inebriated, the main ‘lash’, which involves a house party, pub or club, and the evening is supposed to be finished off with finding your mating partner for the evening. I suppose some think that getting tanked combined with over-perfuming (I quote: ‘Wear Armani for the punani’ or ‘No aftershave, you go home with Dave’) is the best way to keep the stream of loose women moving at a steady speed. At one point, people who were suave were often seen to be the ladies’ man, though it seems that The Inbetweeners seems to have lowered peoples’ standards.

And thirdly, last but not least, we have the tribalism. There were once football teams, children, which used to be supported only by local people. But now football clubs are no longer the social clubs they were in communities, the communities have fragmented and now affiliate themselves in groups with stupid chants, stupid handshakes, and stupid attire, though I don’t know which is worse. This I have witnessed for too long, and it’s starting to get old.

I don’t target ‘lads’ because they’re easy to mock. From an outsider’s perspective, preferably from a birds’ eye view, the whole culture is summed up in three words: Pathetic, boring and unoriginal. Pathetic, because you didn’t realise that The Inbetweeners was a comedy not a visual manual on getting laid; boring, because if girls and football are the only two things you talk about, God forbid having to talk to other people about stuff that have a far bigger influence than Torres’ left kick; and, this is the worst, unoriginal. Readers of a certain age will have the ability to chronicle the first ‘lad’ culture phase: the early eighties. Just watch the adverts advertising lager. It’s like holding a magic mirror which determines your probable fashion choices in the eighties. Just look at that mullet, don’t you look like a prick.

Gentlemen, for I refuse to call you ‘lads’ now, may I suggest an alternative? Firstly, dump the fake and the false, and how about being ‘yourself’. Don’t model yourself on the cover of Men’s Health but try doing what you think is right, because often, people get it wrong. That’s humanity for you, and instinct works well, as proved by our ancestors many millennia ago. Secondly, don’t treat women as objects who all desperately want to shag or have a three-way with you, and if you think that just means buying cheap Pinot Grigio and chocolates, think again. Don’t call her ‘wench’ or ‘bitch’ or ‘ho’. She’s a woman, a female version of you, and not a realistic sex doll.

So, I challenge you, ‘lads’ to cease your inherent discussion about football, Nando’s, crap nightclubs and shitty one night stands. I challenge you to do away with crappy clothes. I challenge you to be timeless, because good manners and being a gentleman never get old with anyone, because it has never been out of fashion to be polite.   

My Desert Island Discs

I love music, and it started, strangely enough, when I gave up playing the piano. It became my opium, my fix became ever more regular, and now my life has its permanent soundtrack.

I also Desert Island Discs, as the music chosen by the castaways is an extension of their characters and of their life experiences, and this is further backed up by the interview between the tracks.

Yes I love music, but I do have my favourites, the ones which I could listen to on a continuous loop. So here are my eight tracks, in no particular order, the book, and the something that would follow me onto the much talked-about 'island'.

1. Bombay Bicycle Club - Lights Out, Words Gone
2. Serge Gainsbourg - L'anamour
3. Barry White - Just The Way You Are
4. Antonio Carlos Jobim & Elis Regina - Aguas de Março
5. Maxime Le Forestier - Éducation Sentimentale
6. Chopin - Études Op. 25 No. 9 in G-flat minor
7. Otis Redding - Try A Little Tenderness
8. The Hymn 'Come Down O Love Divine'

The Book: Candide by Voltaire

Something to take with me: a hamper of a selection of Marks and Spencer sandwiches

And if I had one track to save from the waves, it would have to be Serge Gainsbourg.

Feel free to do one yourself - they're rather good.

We are entering the humanist age, and we must embrace it for ourselves.

It’s Christmas, at least, it feels like Christmas. Oxford Street has become a massive game of ‘sardines’, the smell of mulled wine and roasted chestnuts is filling the air. However, those more religiously observant will note that this is Advent, not Christmas, for that starts on the 25^th December and ends on Twelfth Night, i.e. the 6^th January. Meanwhile, Christmas, according to the retailers, starts, at the latest, in mid-November and ends on the 26^th, the start of the Boxing Day Sales. I’m trying to humour you, but if we look deeper into this common perception, what does this say about society? I say, it’s a sign society is being weaned off the religious aspect of Christmas, whilst going back to the meaning of Yule as being a winter festival.  It’s a      sign of an increasingly popular ‘humanist’ approach, which cannot be stopped, and one which must be adopted if western civilisation doesn’t wish to regress.

Yes, yes, respond the naysayers to this trend, but Christmas has always had another meaning other than the religious aspect. But I maintain my stance through facts and figures. Statistics nerds like me point to the evidence that is the Census. In 2001, the number of people who listed their religion as ‘Christian’ was 71%. The most recent Census, taken last year, showed a 12% drop, to 59%, whilst the category of ‘no religion’ went up by nearly 11% to 25%, and this question was voluntary, which further questions the true number of people who do not affiliate themselves to a religion. Combined with a multi-faith society, where the numbers of Muslims went up to 5%, it is clear that tolerance of religion is definitely the norm, which means that if we are to welcome people of different faiths, a middle-ground must be sought. It is simply no good to stick to the tribes of faiths if we wish to create communities with people who don’t share similar upbringing and culture. It makes sense to be a humanist.

What is more, attitudes towards the Church and the stances of the Church are changing, even in religions traditionally seen as moderate, such as the Church of England. We have had scandals involving the sex abuses in Catholic institutions, and the response from the Pope, largely seen as apathetic to the victims. In the Church of England itself, there has been considerable change since the 1960s. I noticed that David Starkey once said, in an interview with the Guardian, that Archbishop of Canterbury, Michael Ramsey, oversaw the change in the Church of England to become more hard-line Christian. Indeed, one gets the sense from older relatives that the Church of England was once like an institution on par with the NHS, highly revered and respected by its people. Indeed, figures such as Chad Varah, who founded the Samaritans in 1953, play testament to a progressive and compassionate attitude. Yet today, the Church has hit a brick wall of Bible-bashing evangelicals who seem to impeach those who want their organisation to remain relevant, and it lags behind even the Episcopal Church of the United States, a fellow member of the Anglican Communion, through the reluctance of a minority to allow female vicars to become bishops, and by asking the Government to exempt the Church from holding same-sex marriages. What do these actions say to the people, who already leave the flock of such an organised religion that it is the established church of this country? It is not just the Christian organisations which are turning people away from religion but other fundamentalist groups, such as those of Islam, which force us into questioning our beliefs and their hierarchy. When the scriptures tell us that God is good, benevolent and omnipotent, we, as an inquisitive and demanding species, ask for the evidence. The case for religion is becoming ever weaker.

But that does not mean that churches, in the individual, parish sense, are doomed entirely. Some will close due to lack of patronage, but the role of churches as a cultural reference, and one which records the evolution of civilisation, is still strong and is, perhaps, growing stronger. According to some, churches are becoming busier at Christmas. More people attend carol concerts and Midnight Mass to celebrate Christmas, whilst weekly worshippers continue their steady decline. Indeed, whilst I myself question the existence of a supernatural all-powerful being, I still like listening to, and singing, hymns. The harmony and the melody of some hymns send shivers down my spine. To do away with this would be a travesty, but slowly, churches are recognising that their role will have to be adjusted to remain relevant, and will be treated in the same way as temples in the East, whereby people go for cultural, rather than spiritual, enrichment. Why do big religious landmarks, such as Westminster Abbey and the Notre Dame, charge admission and have queues on the street?  One doubts whether they are ‘true believers’.

Humans are compassionate. We say ‘bless you’ when someone sneezes, we pick up people’s shopping if their bag has split, and we give up our seat for those who need them. However, the necessity to cite religion as the motivation to do is dwindling at a quickening rate. Religion is becoming irrelevant, as China, the new global superpower, is a country of atheists, whilst we are a civilisation of increased consumption. But society helps each other, therefore, because we wish to help a fellow human being in their time of need, simply because they are human and we are there. This is humanism to the core. We are living it, and it’s about time that we accept it.

Merry Christmas.