Here’s an oft-cited philosophical question for you to mull over: is it it better to live a life in blissful ignorance rather than have the instinctive thirst for knowledge, with all its attendant futility and soul-searching weighing heavy upon your burdened shoulders? After all, does a passing understanding of the never-ending Israeli-Palestinian dispute or a being able to offer an intricate analysis of Wittgenstein’s oeuvre really have any bearing upon one’s day-to-day life? Is it more preferable to switch one’s mind off in front of the television and feed your soul a daily soup of Phil Mitchell’s battle with crack addiction or whether Paris Hilton has resolved her dispute with Lindsey Lohan via Twitter? In the end, isn’t our opinion so crowded out amongst the din that if we take the time out to care, all we do is just get bogged down with worry? It’s quite telling that Americans have a guaranteed entitlement to the ‘pursuit of happiness’ written into the Declaration of Independence with the operative word being ‘pursuit’. If you’re ignorant and happy is it far better than being informed and depressed?
Sofalife – A User’s Guide
Top tips for World Cup sofa survival:
1. Use technology to your advantage
When the forces of employment take away all the joy of living with their serious insistence that bills must be paid and responsibilities adhered to, the World Cup obsessive must seek refuge in the ability of the boffin to bring you your World Cup fix in a matter of seconds, locale holds no bounds. Twitter, internet, mobile phone and hearsay will all allow you to keep your finger, albeit surreptitiously, on the World Cup pulse. Match on at half twelve? No problem. Mute it and check your desk for ‘pens’, every few minutes or so, catching a blurry image of a New Zealand defender clattering into a Slovak. Three o’ clock matches? Forg-edda-bou-it! Sky + the required match and endanger pedestrians as you zoom home just in time to watch the recorded first half, forward the Hansen’s jibber-jabber and relax into the second half, ‘live’. Bliss…..unless…..the machiavellian spoilers at Sky, shorn of footballing dominance, sabotage the opening match by having the recording stop with thirty minutes to go unbeknownst to the erstwhile fan. Recording over, the tv goes back to real time and the match is in stoppage time. Adrian Chiles announces a barnstorming second half but you wouldn’t know because you endured the tense chess match of the first half. This has happened to more than one person. I share your pain.
The Numbers Game
I sadly missed the gallant but ultimately futile attempts of Bafana Bafana to avoid becoming the first ever host nation to go out in the group stage today. I missed it because of numbers. Cold, heartless numbers. I don’t much like statistics and data. They group people together into faceless graphs that suck out any semblance of individuality and personality which only serves to embed preconceptions and prejudices which as a teacher, I do so much to eradicate from the malleable minds of the young. As the minutes of the meeting turned into hours, I began to question the fundamental reasons that I chose to enter this profession in the first place. How can a bureaucrat in a faraway monolith of drabby cement even begin to understand the personalities that my fellow professionals and I juggle with every day, (with all their stratifying elements of mischievousness, witticisms and travails) through the emotionless accumulation of anonymous polls and pie charts. I decided today, that I will refuse to play the numbers game however much that might hinder any vainglorious ideas of career progression.
-
In Defence Of Luis Suarez by Rachael Singh
-
What’s The Point Of Scottish Football?
-
Captain Caveman: The De-evolution of John Terry
-
Alan Davies Is Here All Week
-
Liverpool Football Club, 1892 – 2012 – An Obituary
Subscribe / Connect
Make sure you don't miss any Dispatches by staying connected.
