Next year is 2010. Twenty ten, not two thousand and ten. Twenty ten. We must get this right. We must commence the second decade of the twenty first century by saying the year correctly. This is upsetting me a lot. Every time I hear someone say two thousand and ten, I feel my blood pressure surge. I am not very far from violence.Seriously.
Think back about a hundred years. In 1909, were people saying that the next year was going to be one thousand nine hundred and ten? No they weren't. They said nineteen ten.
So, next year is twenty ten. That's logical right? Stop saying it the wrong way. You too Prime Minister Rudd. You talked about the twenty twenty summit so why are you saying two thousand and ten. It's wrong. Stop it.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Cultural Snobbery
There is something I don't understand, something that troubles, even annoys me. Why is it that people have to condemn as worthless the things they don't like. By all means, voice your opinion, and justify your view with criticism by why write it off altogether especially when you know full well that somebody else actually likes it.What am I on about? Read on.
I'm reading a book called "A World Without Heroes" written by George Roche. It's a book of philosophy, if you like that sort of thing, from a Christian point of view. I happen to agree with the author's world view for the most part until he comes up with stuff like this;
Talking about modern music, "...the jungle throb and infected themes of rock (music)..." So we know he doesn't like rock music and then this, "The simplest, most accurate statement of our arts is that we no longer have any. Virtually all of our best theatrical repertoire, our art, our music, our ballet, our architecture, our sculpture, our literature, is a century old and often far older...we make no art. We make daubs and junk and boxy buildings and screeches." I don't have time or space to quote more extensively, but how about this to finish, "the ghastly sounds which bombard us in this music starved age."
Let's focus on music. Many people think that the only good music is the music they like. A radio announcer I regularly listen to, always talks about how they don't make music like they used to in the 1960s and 70s. Nobody writes great songs anymore apparently. Some people enjoy listening to opera which is often sung in a foreign language and then bag heavy metal music because they say you can't understand what they are singing about. Other people criticize heavy metal because they say its monotonous but they get off on dance music. Can you tell I'm a heavy metal fan?
Bruce Dickinson is lead singer of the hugely successful heavy metal band, Iron Maiden. Bruce has arguably one of the finest voices in his genre. A classically trained opera singer who according to some cultural snobs probably crossed over to the dark side when he joined Iron Maiden. Some of the world's finest musicians, singers and songwriters have entertained us through heavy metal music.
Anyway, this was not intended to be a defense of heavy metal.
The high culture/low culture divide is an artificial distinction. Why should ballet be considered high culture and breakdancing low. Why should classical music be above rock music? Why should so called literary writing be deemed superior to so called pulp fiction? I do not accept Roche's assertion that good art, in all its forms is no longer being produced. That modern art, music and literature is rubbish. The question of what makes good art, is and always has been entirely subjective, and its not determined by popularity contests either.
Only God knows how much time we have left but I reckon Metallica's song Enter Sandman is a classic and perhaps in the future it will be recognized more widely as such. On par with Beethoven's 5th.
I guess the point of this rambling, disorganized babble is that I believe you don't have to like something to recognize that it is good, (in other words that someone else likes it.)
I'm reading a book called "A World Without Heroes" written by George Roche. It's a book of philosophy, if you like that sort of thing, from a Christian point of view. I happen to agree with the author's world view for the most part until he comes up with stuff like this;
Talking about modern music, "...the jungle throb and infected themes of rock (music)..." So we know he doesn't like rock music and then this, "The simplest, most accurate statement of our arts is that we no longer have any. Virtually all of our best theatrical repertoire, our art, our music, our ballet, our architecture, our sculpture, our literature, is a century old and often far older...we make no art. We make daubs and junk and boxy buildings and screeches." I don't have time or space to quote more extensively, but how about this to finish, "the ghastly sounds which bombard us in this music starved age."
Let's focus on music. Many people think that the only good music is the music they like. A radio announcer I regularly listen to, always talks about how they don't make music like they used to in the 1960s and 70s. Nobody writes great songs anymore apparently. Some people enjoy listening to opera which is often sung in a foreign language and then bag heavy metal music because they say you can't understand what they are singing about. Other people criticize heavy metal because they say its monotonous but they get off on dance music. Can you tell I'm a heavy metal fan?
Bruce Dickinson is lead singer of the hugely successful heavy metal band, Iron Maiden. Bruce has arguably one of the finest voices in his genre. A classically trained opera singer who according to some cultural snobs probably crossed over to the dark side when he joined Iron Maiden. Some of the world's finest musicians, singers and songwriters have entertained us through heavy metal music.
Anyway, this was not intended to be a defense of heavy metal.
The high culture/low culture divide is an artificial distinction. Why should ballet be considered high culture and breakdancing low. Why should classical music be above rock music? Why should so called literary writing be deemed superior to so called pulp fiction? I do not accept Roche's assertion that good art, in all its forms is no longer being produced. That modern art, music and literature is rubbish. The question of what makes good art, is and always has been entirely subjective, and its not determined by popularity contests either.
Only God knows how much time we have left but I reckon Metallica's song Enter Sandman is a classic and perhaps in the future it will be recognized more widely as such. On par with Beethoven's 5th.
I guess the point of this rambling, disorganized babble is that I believe you don't have to like something to recognize that it is good, (in other words that someone else likes it.)
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Devolution. A novel by D.A.Cairns (sample).
Here's a very small sample from my novel, Devolution. The e-book costs US$10 and is available from me, if you're interested.
Turning around quickly she said, ‘Hush, where’s your father?’
‘Swimming in the living room. You don’t mind if we talk, do you?’
‘No,’ she said, smiling, ‘I kind of like it. It must be such fun for you to be able to voice with your friends at school.’
He scratched his nose and played with the buttons of his shirt. ‘That’s what I wanted to ask you about actually.’
Sensing the serious tone in her son’s voice, 2 rotated her hoverchair to face him.
‘Has dad said anything about our school being closed down?’
‘He,’ she hesitated, and 3 noticed her uncertainty, ‘He says it’s almost a done deal. He’s been pushing hard for years now and has finally gathered enough support among the other councilors to go ahead. Of course he is the education minister.’
Keeping his eyes fixed on the liquid floor, 3 felt a surge of anger in his veins and his head began to ache again. ‘It’s not fair, mum. It’s just not fair.’
Wisely, his mother tried a change of subject to attempt to calm him, ‘What about your dream? Did you want to tell me about it?’ she said. But he turned abruptly and left the room talking to himself. She tried to project a warning to him to stop voicing, but he was so angry she could not penetrate his thoughts.
In the bathroom, 3 looked at his image in the mirror and cursed. His head, a little large for his body, its shape oval yet triangular, narrowing at the forehead. Eyes wide-spaced, under no eyebrows and long lashes, nose flattened, mouth too wide. As far as Newtonians could be attractive he probably looked all right, but how would any girl ever find him attractive? How would a particular Adonite girl desire this ugliness? If he was to be forced into single tribe education then it probably wouldn’t matter anymore. Obviously looks would play no part in the partnering of Newtonians, but he desperately wanted to stay in mixed schooling. Of course there was no hope of him ever partnering with a girl from another tribe but so much of a teenage boy’s world was fantasy, and 3 was no different. He burned with passion for his friend, the goddess, Veena.
Turning around quickly she said, ‘Hush, where’s your father?’
‘Swimming in the living room. You don’t mind if we talk, do you?’
‘No,’ she said, smiling, ‘I kind of like it. It must be such fun for you to be able to voice with your friends at school.’
He scratched his nose and played with the buttons of his shirt. ‘That’s what I wanted to ask you about actually.’
Sensing the serious tone in her son’s voice, 2 rotated her hoverchair to face him.
‘Has dad said anything about our school being closed down?’
‘He,’ she hesitated, and 3 noticed her uncertainty, ‘He says it’s almost a done deal. He’s been pushing hard for years now and has finally gathered enough support among the other councilors to go ahead. Of course he is the education minister.’
Keeping his eyes fixed on the liquid floor, 3 felt a surge of anger in his veins and his head began to ache again. ‘It’s not fair, mum. It’s just not fair.’
Wisely, his mother tried a change of subject to attempt to calm him, ‘What about your dream? Did you want to tell me about it?’ she said. But he turned abruptly and left the room talking to himself. She tried to project a warning to him to stop voicing, but he was so angry she could not penetrate his thoughts.
In the bathroom, 3 looked at his image in the mirror and cursed. His head, a little large for his body, its shape oval yet triangular, narrowing at the forehead. Eyes wide-spaced, under no eyebrows and long lashes, nose flattened, mouth too wide. As far as Newtonians could be attractive he probably looked all right, but how would any girl ever find him attractive? How would a particular Adonite girl desire this ugliness? If he was to be forced into single tribe education then it probably wouldn’t matter anymore. Obviously looks would play no part in the partnering of Newtonians, but he desperately wanted to stay in mixed schooling. Of course there was no hope of him ever partnering with a girl from another tribe but so much of a teenage boy’s world was fantasy, and 3 was no different. He burned with passion for his friend, the goddess, Veena.
2012: Not just another disaster movie
Yes, the new end of the world apocalypse movie, 2012, follows the disaster movie formula. Yes it's full of literally incredible escapes, and the special effects obliterate the actors who, to be fair do a pretty good job with a limited and admittedly cliched script. Look a little deeper however and you will find a philosophical and moral heart beating inside.
If the rulers of our world: the governments and leaders of business and science knew that the world was going to end, what would they do? Even with gazillions of dollars, pounds, yen or whatever, could they save everyone? Would they try to save everyone? If they chose to only save a limited number of people, how would they decide who lived and died? Would they have the right to make such decisions? Think about. Suppose it was your decision.
2012 is very entertaining and despite the restricted script, the characters are likeable and show enough of themselves to engender genuine concern for their welfare. The unpredictability of their fate is breathtaking. The special effects are truly overwhelming to the extent that in some scenes there is no way to humanly process the bombardment of audio visual input. There is just too much going on.
Finally there are the acts of heroism. Selfless and self sacrificing acts. Motivated by some instinct to risk one's own life to try to save another person. Acts of love. Deeds which prove the existence of a loving God who created us to care for and about each another.
2012. Don't wait too long to see it or you may run out of time.
If the rulers of our world: the governments and leaders of business and science knew that the world was going to end, what would they do? Even with gazillions of dollars, pounds, yen or whatever, could they save everyone? Would they try to save everyone? If they chose to only save a limited number of people, how would they decide who lived and died? Would they have the right to make such decisions? Think about. Suppose it was your decision.
2012 is very entertaining and despite the restricted script, the characters are likeable and show enough of themselves to engender genuine concern for their welfare. The unpredictability of their fate is breathtaking. The special effects are truly overwhelming to the extent that in some scenes there is no way to humanly process the bombardment of audio visual input. There is just too much going on.
Finally there are the acts of heroism. Selfless and self sacrificing acts. Motivated by some instinct to risk one's own life to try to save another person. Acts of love. Deeds which prove the existence of a loving God who created us to care for and about each another.
2012. Don't wait too long to see it or you may run out of time.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
The Failed War on Drugs
Should illegal drugs be legalized, or at least decriminalized?
In New South Wales, Australia, the Pharmacy Guild funds a needle syringe exchange program for injecting drug users. It provides a free exchange service for users of heroin. The rationale for this program is two fold. Firstly, it is designed to ensure that as many used syringes as possible are disposed of safely, and secondly, it aims to help stop the spread of infectious diseases among users. This program is largely unknown outside the ranks of chemists and drug users. Heroin itself has a fairly low profile these days. It is not fashionable: either for drug users or for media reporters. It is however still an illegal substance and there are heavy penalties for possession, use, and especially for trafficking. The question is why. Why have illicit drugs been demonised?
Is it because they cause people to act in an anti social manner? Is it because they damage people's health? Is it because, people commit crimes under the influence of drugs? Is it because of the violence that is associated with them? The answer to all those questions is yes, but how does that differ from the negative effects of alcohol abuse?
I'll tell you how it differs. Alcohol is much much worse. Although a legal and socially acceptable drug, it is a violent, and indiscriminate killer. Alcohol abuse is a rampant disease in our society. It is an evil curse.
Why don't we just allow people to use whatever substances they want? Almost everyone has something they use to dull the pain of past hurts, the weight of current expectations or the darkness of hopeless futures. If nobody else gets hurt, what's wrong with that? Could all the time, money and effort expended on the war against illegal drugs be better spent?
I heard about his guy named Norm Stamper who was a cop for 34 years and served as Seattle's Chief of Police from 1994-2000. He has written a book called Breaking Rank. He believes the war on drugs in the United States has done exactly the opposite for the people. He says, "tens of thousands of otherwise innocent Americans incarcerated, many for 20 years, some for life; families ripped apart; drug traffickers and blameless bystanders shot dead on city streets; narcotics officers assassinated here and abroad, with prosecutors, judges, and elected officials in Latin America gunned down for their courageous stands against the cartels; and all those dollars spent on federal, state, and local cops, courts, prosecutors, prisons, probation, parole, and pee-in-the-bottle programs. Even federal aid to bribe distant nations to stop feeding our habit."
This is typical of a society which has lost the ability to wisely choose which battles to fight, and which ones to walk way from. The situation in Australia is not as bad as that in the U.S. but surely we don't want to follow their lead.
In New South Wales, Australia, the Pharmacy Guild funds a needle syringe exchange program for injecting drug users. It provides a free exchange service for users of heroin. The rationale for this program is two fold. Firstly, it is designed to ensure that as many used syringes as possible are disposed of safely, and secondly, it aims to help stop the spread of infectious diseases among users. This program is largely unknown outside the ranks of chemists and drug users. Heroin itself has a fairly low profile these days. It is not fashionable: either for drug users or for media reporters. It is however still an illegal substance and there are heavy penalties for possession, use, and especially for trafficking. The question is why. Why have illicit drugs been demonised?
Is it because they cause people to act in an anti social manner? Is it because they damage people's health? Is it because, people commit crimes under the influence of drugs? Is it because of the violence that is associated with them? The answer to all those questions is yes, but how does that differ from the negative effects of alcohol abuse?
I'll tell you how it differs. Alcohol is much much worse. Although a legal and socially acceptable drug, it is a violent, and indiscriminate killer. Alcohol abuse is a rampant disease in our society. It is an evil curse.
Why don't we just allow people to use whatever substances they want? Almost everyone has something they use to dull the pain of past hurts, the weight of current expectations or the darkness of hopeless futures. If nobody else gets hurt, what's wrong with that? Could all the time, money and effort expended on the war against illegal drugs be better spent?
I heard about his guy named Norm Stamper who was a cop for 34 years and served as Seattle's Chief of Police from 1994-2000. He has written a book called Breaking Rank. He believes the war on drugs in the United States has done exactly the opposite for the people. He says, "tens of thousands of otherwise innocent Americans incarcerated, many for 20 years, some for life; families ripped apart; drug traffickers and blameless bystanders shot dead on city streets; narcotics officers assassinated here and abroad, with prosecutors, judges, and elected officials in Latin America gunned down for their courageous stands against the cartels; and all those dollars spent on federal, state, and local cops, courts, prosecutors, prisons, probation, parole, and pee-in-the-bottle programs. Even federal aid to bribe distant nations to stop feeding our habit."
This is typical of a society which has lost the ability to wisely choose which battles to fight, and which ones to walk way from. The situation in Australia is not as bad as that in the U.S. but surely we don't want to follow their lead.
Friday, October 2, 2009
The Struggle Within
With apologies to Metallica for stealing their song title, I want to start by saying that I am not too hard on myself. People who know me often think that is the case when I start talking about my faults. The truth is that I have a totally realistic view of myself based on all the available evidence. I neither think too highly, nor too lowly of myself. I am honest with myself about myself.
Ironically that is part of the problem I want to write about. I spend a lot of time deep in thought. You could describe me as introspective but that is only one piece of the puzzle that is me. I also ponder other people and other situations. I analyze and mentally investigate life, and the way people interact with it and with each other. It's entirely possible that I spend too much time thinking but that is not a flaw or an excuse for inaction. It is merely a product of my life. I have time to think, so I do.
When I returned to work from long service leave, I realized that I had become excessively results driven. Overly achievement oriented. That is not necessarily a bad thing unless any lack of success, either perceived or actual, begins to cripple you and deter you from action. I am not easily put off. If I believe something is worth pursuing then I invest in the chase. I run. I hunt. Stubborn resolve comes easily to me but I am not very single minded. Sometimes I want the gold without having to dig for it.
People who achieve success in their chosen endeavours are single minded. They make tremendous sacrifices to get the results they want. Consider the discipline required by elite athletes. They compete to win and that takes dedication and discipline. It also takes confidence and ability and for most, assistance of some sort. Take these five ingredients and combine them in a bowl. Forty minutes in the oven and you have a Victory Cake. As a beaten egg binds the other ingredients of a regular edible cake together, so does single mindedness bind the ingredients of the Victory Cake. I want to eat the Victory Cake but soomtimes I can't be bothered following the recipe.
That's why I am not very successful. Even as I write this I am thinking about other things that I should be doing. The laundry, for example, is a short walk from me and at the end of a typically busy week for my family, is in desperate need of attention. It's messed up. Thinking about that makes it hard for me to write this because I am not totally focussed on the task.
The Struggle Within is the battle that rages constantly in my mind between what I am doing and what I would either like to be doing, or what I should be doing. It is also the fight between what I am thinking about and what I should be thinking about. I am acutely aware of this conflict and it is not an imagined one. It is real, and it is really tiring.
The funny thing is, I like the way I operate because I think it demonstrates balance. I am not so completely intent on any one thing that other important things in my life get ignored. I take care of my responsibilities before I pamper to my sensibilities. I do the 'have-to' before the 'want to'. Business before pleasure. Duty before delight. Work comes before play.
And now I come at long last to the point. I have a dream: a fantasy which involves the abolition of the distinctions mentioned above. In the film Parenthood, Karen and Gill Buckman have a heated argument one afternoon when she reveals she's pregnant with their fourth child and he announces that he has quit his job. Finally he says he has to go and take his son to baseball practice. The discussion has resolved nothing, achieved nothing except to get both Karen and Gill even more upset than they were, so she wants him to stay and talk some more. She wants to sort it out. It's important to her and its important to Gill also but he has something else important to do. A competing responsibility. Gill says 'I have to go.' Karen replies with a question, 'Do you have to?' Gill says, 'My whole life is have to.'
There it is. My whole life is 'have to'. I sqeeze in a few 'want tos' here and there but I am driven by my responsibilities. For me this is a huge problem because I am not enjoying it. I don't want to ditch my responsibilities but I would like to enjoy them more. I wouldn't mind having some fun.
The solution is simple, at least theoretically. I must convert all the 'have tos' in my life into 'want tos'. That is my dream: the obliteration of the division between what I have to do and what I want to do. I don't even know if it's possible but I'm going to try.
Ironically that is part of the problem I want to write about. I spend a lot of time deep in thought. You could describe me as introspective but that is only one piece of the puzzle that is me. I also ponder other people and other situations. I analyze and mentally investigate life, and the way people interact with it and with each other. It's entirely possible that I spend too much time thinking but that is not a flaw or an excuse for inaction. It is merely a product of my life. I have time to think, so I do.
When I returned to work from long service leave, I realized that I had become excessively results driven. Overly achievement oriented. That is not necessarily a bad thing unless any lack of success, either perceived or actual, begins to cripple you and deter you from action. I am not easily put off. If I believe something is worth pursuing then I invest in the chase. I run. I hunt. Stubborn resolve comes easily to me but I am not very single minded. Sometimes I want the gold without having to dig for it.
People who achieve success in their chosen endeavours are single minded. They make tremendous sacrifices to get the results they want. Consider the discipline required by elite athletes. They compete to win and that takes dedication and discipline. It also takes confidence and ability and for most, assistance of some sort. Take these five ingredients and combine them in a bowl. Forty minutes in the oven and you have a Victory Cake. As a beaten egg binds the other ingredients of a regular edible cake together, so does single mindedness bind the ingredients of the Victory Cake. I want to eat the Victory Cake but soomtimes I can't be bothered following the recipe.
That's why I am not very successful. Even as I write this I am thinking about other things that I should be doing. The laundry, for example, is a short walk from me and at the end of a typically busy week for my family, is in desperate need of attention. It's messed up. Thinking about that makes it hard for me to write this because I am not totally focussed on the task.
The Struggle Within is the battle that rages constantly in my mind between what I am doing and what I would either like to be doing, or what I should be doing. It is also the fight between what I am thinking about and what I should be thinking about. I am acutely aware of this conflict and it is not an imagined one. It is real, and it is really tiring.
The funny thing is, I like the way I operate because I think it demonstrates balance. I am not so completely intent on any one thing that other important things in my life get ignored. I take care of my responsibilities before I pamper to my sensibilities. I do the 'have-to' before the 'want to'. Business before pleasure. Duty before delight. Work comes before play.
And now I come at long last to the point. I have a dream: a fantasy which involves the abolition of the distinctions mentioned above. In the film Parenthood, Karen and Gill Buckman have a heated argument one afternoon when she reveals she's pregnant with their fourth child and he announces that he has quit his job. Finally he says he has to go and take his son to baseball practice. The discussion has resolved nothing, achieved nothing except to get both Karen and Gill even more upset than they were, so she wants him to stay and talk some more. She wants to sort it out. It's important to her and its important to Gill also but he has something else important to do. A competing responsibility. Gill says 'I have to go.' Karen replies with a question, 'Do you have to?' Gill says, 'My whole life is have to.'
There it is. My whole life is 'have to'. I sqeeze in a few 'want tos' here and there but I am driven by my responsibilities. For me this is a huge problem because I am not enjoying it. I don't want to ditch my responsibilities but I would like to enjoy them more. I wouldn't mind having some fun.
The solution is simple, at least theoretically. I must convert all the 'have tos' in my life into 'want tos'. That is my dream: the obliteration of the division between what I have to do and what I want to do. I don't even know if it's possible but I'm going to try.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Of tennis balls and music videos
Everyone loves Serena Williams. She's a popular figure in the sporting world and an adopted daughter of ours here in Australia courtesy of her success at the Australian Open. The fashion displayed by her and sister, Venus, has both amused and amazed tennis fans for years. How the hell do they play tennis with these gargantuan baubles dangling from their ears? The media, tournament directors, her opponents and tennis fans: we all like Serena Williams except for the lineswoman at this year's U.S Open semi final. She is now a little wary of the larger than life American tennis superstar.
Serena swore at and threatened this woman who was simply doing her job. It was a high pressure moment. There was a lot at stake. She lost her head. Wow, she's human. Her brain explosion happened on television but most of us have ours in relative obscurity.
I once verbally wrestled with a bus driver on a taxi rank. As I wasn't having a profitable day, and his tone of voice was antagonistic, I decided to return serve. Never mind that I was in the wrong, having parked too close to the corner and made it difficult, not impossible but difficult for him to turn the corner. He yelled at me so I lost it. The audience for my tantrum was a little smaller than Serena's but I still embarrassed myself, as did Serena.
Even the great man, Roger Federer, was caught chucking an oral wobbly on television. Four letter words flew from the mouth of Mr. Nice Guy. It's true, I saw it! In the heat of the moment, he lost control.
Kanye West apparently lost control of his senses at the VMAs. He made more enemies than Hitler when he humiliated Taylor Swift on stage by interrupting her acceptance speech. So he thought Beyonce's music video was better than Taylor's. We all have opinions Kanye, but there is a right time and place to express them. He apologised later but the damage had been done.
Serena apologised to the lineswoman but the damage has been done. She said she didn't threaten to kill her but the proposed trajectory of a certain tennis ball would almost certainly have fatally interfered with the breathing of the lineswoman.
The big question now is whether the reputations of these stars will recover following their "errors of judgement". Of course they will. Everyone gets emotionally disturbed by these childish peformances but we've all done the same thing, so of course we'll get over it. We'll still watch Serena play and we'll still listen to Kanye's music. Life goes on.
Serena swore at and threatened this woman who was simply doing her job. It was a high pressure moment. There was a lot at stake. She lost her head. Wow, she's human. Her brain explosion happened on television but most of us have ours in relative obscurity.
I once verbally wrestled with a bus driver on a taxi rank. As I wasn't having a profitable day, and his tone of voice was antagonistic, I decided to return serve. Never mind that I was in the wrong, having parked too close to the corner and made it difficult, not impossible but difficult for him to turn the corner. He yelled at me so I lost it. The audience for my tantrum was a little smaller than Serena's but I still embarrassed myself, as did Serena.
Even the great man, Roger Federer, was caught chucking an oral wobbly on television. Four letter words flew from the mouth of Mr. Nice Guy. It's true, I saw it! In the heat of the moment, he lost control.
Kanye West apparently lost control of his senses at the VMAs. He made more enemies than Hitler when he humiliated Taylor Swift on stage by interrupting her acceptance speech. So he thought Beyonce's music video was better than Taylor's. We all have opinions Kanye, but there is a right time and place to express them. He apologised later but the damage had been done.
Serena apologised to the lineswoman but the damage has been done. She said she didn't threaten to kill her but the proposed trajectory of a certain tennis ball would almost certainly have fatally interfered with the breathing of the lineswoman.
The big question now is whether the reputations of these stars will recover following their "errors of judgement". Of course they will. Everyone gets emotionally disturbed by these childish peformances but we've all done the same thing, so of course we'll get over it. We'll still watch Serena play and we'll still listen to Kanye's music. Life goes on.
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