Forget the bohemian, this is the age of the so-cleanian - ha-ha - right? Mod was defined by Pete Meaden as 'clean living under difficult circumstances ' - well, you know, funny thing is that no-one was telling them how to live in the Swinging 60s, they could smoke in bars and clubs! Oooh, very revolutionary...now, it would be...it would be breaking the law fer fuck's sake - ha - funny...
Big S(M)other, telling us all how to live (eat, drink & think) - ain't it great, though? Years ago people were allowed to ruin themselves peacefully - not that the Government didn't try, I'm sure. I want a doctor who smokes and recommends a brand in an advertising campaign!) ....
...yeah, one who I know is going to nip out for a puff after he's seen me because physicians are more than twice as likely as the general population to kill themselves so deep down he's bloody depressed, probably more so now because he can't make money advertising fags or even be seen smoking one....
...thankfully, despite constant health advice, a lot of people still insist on walking the own road to self-destruction; trouble is, they're not bohemians, they're proles, puffing and munching away in their addiction to nicotine, alcohol, fat, sugar, weed whatever in an attempt to stave off the hourly gloom that will descend as a result of their futile lives....
...do any bohemians exist today? That was a question asked by Victoria Coren Mitchell in the BBC4 series How To Be Bohemian, which ended last night. No firm conclusion, of course, though she was taken with a mob who squatted the 12 Bar Club where, coincidentally, I saw The Sleaford Mods on their march to fame where they are now. Andrew Fearn's often seen vaping, as was Will Self on the BBC4 documentary - sell out! What a let down, although I did read that he had a nasty disease so perhaps he's forgiven, being forced down that route....
...imagine the bohemians of old (let's say artists and poets in Parisian cafes) having to constantly go outside to smoke - "Hold that thought, I'm going outside for a cigarette!" - they'd all be outside anyway, probably, in the pissing rain, spirits dampened, perhaps, freezing cold...unable to spark creative revolutionary ideas...therefore never organising Surrealodadaexistism (I made that up, I did) shows, exhibitions, pamphlets etc. History rewritten: The Snoutsider by Albert Camus, a tale of the tortured lives lead by artists forced to be outside all the time when they want a smoke...
...so-cleanians...mostly middle class, ironically, as were many bohemians in history; financially free to think freely, to be 'free' (and shag each other, dream up proto Hippy ideas, party hard etc) - whilst the proles were too busy trying to earn a crust, as always. The only escape route for proles into bohemiaville is the dole which, in the 80s, wasn't a bad thing to be on - it was almost de rigueur, my dear - well, I knew a lot of dolites, myself included. Aye, the dole were great in them days, not like now, when you have to call into the office every hour to prove you're looking for work, or act insane (or terminally ill) to keep getting money. Mind you, getting pissed on cheap brew in your rotting bedsit with those in a similar boat hardly matches the Jazz Age party lifestyle or country house shag fests of old, does it? And nobody in dolesville will write a great book or poems and get rich...
...now the middle class so-cleanians write laws to control prole behaviour (pleasures) and chart political career paths administering them, along with activating thought control mechanisms via the big PC Machine, which smashes rebel thinkers to pieces should they spout contrary words (ie, not the party line) - and some wonder why folk are bored with, and mistrustful of, politicians, those sparkling droids of the dictatorial democratic State. These party replicants are playing to win, win the votes of the darling middle-classes (except Scotland, bless the sweaty socks), which means being clean, respectable, middle-of-the-road and not rocking the boat with free-thinking radical shit that will scare the middletons to death....
...Mr & Mrs Middle...they're so nice, so Nice Age - not a crazy thought in their heads (except the ones they keep firmly locked inside because, deep down, they're all psychopathic, like you and me). And the boundaries of nice, clean living make them feel secure - why shouldn't they? Look what right-thinking has gained them - everything! At least the documentary gave the impression that from this most sensible of backgrounds revellers did rise up regularly (to squander daddy's money!) or dream mad schemes about being nude and wild in the country...even make art....
...hold on, is bohemia a state of mind? That's not a new idea, but I think it's valid. You don't have to act in a stereotypically bohemian way to think outside of the big box we call 'normality', do you? Perhaps it's that old thing called 'individualism' (yes, I know that's a big general term). In our thoughts we may well inhabit bohemia if that fictitious land's name must be evoked. Deeper still, it is not something we cultivate and wear as fashionable ideas (and clothes) for a while, but a state of mind that evolves as part of our character whilst we grow and see the world we inhabit...see how everyone else appears to embrace 'normality', the dreary-minded, political/media dictated mindset of grey sky thinking mixed with hip capitalism that keeps Youth occupied...as the masses march towards middle-earth utopia, which some will never actually inhabit but need to dream of doing so (that tasty carrot!)...perhaps you have not joined in (until you win the Lottery, but even then, would you really like to live amongst these people?)...perhaps in your mind you are free, or at least maintain a small plot of land called bohemia...
No comments:
Post a Comment