Monday 9 September 2019

Dating Under the Dictatorship



As the UK enters a period of political dictatorship and the gradual abrogation of democracy for at least the next month - but frankly who knows with the crew we have in power now, in a month they'll probably have decided to do away with elections too - what are we mere playthings of the latter day Sun Tzu to do?

In that regard, it may be instructive to consider the reaction of at least some citizens of the former Eastern Bloc countries to their dangerous and repressive governments which they simultaneously regarded as profoundly ridiculous and incompetent. The Czech New Wave film makers in particular developed a delightful sense of absurdity in the face of authoritarianism with lengthy, often rambling dialogue, dark humour and non-professional actors frequently focused on the rather haphazard and not entirely successful love lives of their protagonists. 

So, particularly given that we need more young people to outvote the elderly bigots, perhaps our reaction should be get on with some high volume dating. It may be a long term solution to the ridding ourselves of the tories but it could be fun. Not that I'm going to contribute to the procreation of more young people. 

However, when it comes to dating at a time of political crisis it can all go horribly wrong. For example, if your date suddenly mentions Andrea Leadsom in an outbreak of Tourette's, the likelihood of an enjoyable evening is significantly reduced. Indeed the need for ten minutes in the gents is profound. 

There's also the risk that your dating site profile ends up reading like a political manifesto: I'm a mixture of Green, Left-Leaning and Liberal all under the umbrella of being profoundly REMAIN doesn't leave a lot of room for your favourite colour (since you ask, anything but blue or whatever that revolting colour the farage lot use). 

And if you voted Leave, don't even bother looking at my profile.

A degree of tension can also get in the way. Apparently flippant but open questions such as 'what is the novel that you're going to finish when you retire going to be about?' may elicit the response: 'the murder of my great grandparents'. FULL STOP. Something of the passion killer. 

Then there are dangers the other way. You see a potential soul mate both politically and in other ways and dive straight in but without necessarily thinking through whether you might be in danger of overkill.

I was particularly struck by one woman with the site name 'I, Claudius' which I thought was both hilarious and intriguing particularly since it was followed by a description about fighting back against some well defined fuckers. This was definitely my kind of woman. 

"Hi I! I love that profile. As a member of the Julio-Claudian dynasty you will clearly be aware of just how far we in contemporary little Britain have already lived through Tiberius who has now gone off for his shed bound equivalent of Corfu in a hissy fit and are currently experiencing the manifold madnesses of a Caligula-lite wannabe. I feel that we may have slightly bent time's arrow by having already had our equivalent of Nero who certainly spent a lot of time fiddling around to no great end whilst the entire edifice was burning down all around. So we badly need a bit of Claudian stability. 
I'm also highly appreciative of the very useful term 'fuckers'. I find myself uttering that a lot and it's particularly helpful in being firmly gender neutral and a term that can also be spat out with considerable venom, generously peppered amidst the wider cascade of contumely. I find it goes well with a distinctly lower case version of farage with a heavy emphasis on a short vowel sound.
So, Salve! And all power to your efforts to fight the aforementioned fuckers”.
Well apparently she wasn't my kind of woman or had already decided to move onto being Claudius the God because there was absolutely no response whatsoever from her, Jove or indeed Claudius. 

There are also problems about just keeping your deep ire about the 'government' under control. Flying off the handle at the drop of a hat to vent at length and volume about the latest outrage may not be showing ones best side, albeit it may be a truer reflection than some chin stroking, a slight shake of the head, a phlegmatic sigh and a lengthy stare into the middle distance.

Then there is the demand for photographic evidence. In normal times one might think that the request for more photos merely reflects a desire to make sure that you really do look good in lycra. But in these troubled days one has to think that there is a more to it than that. Facial recognition technology can be very good for identifying the troublemakers and making sure they end up in the re-education camps to which we are doubtless headed. So your conviction that blurry capture of the side of your face from behind which may have been taken several years ago really doesn't need to supplemented may be particularly well advised. 

So I think the trick has to be to go with the absurdity. It worked for the Czechs and it can damn well work for us. I mean it didn't always work well for the Czechs and everything tends to look better in  Prague but let's try it for now. 

The first rule is probably to treat the dictatorship as ridiculous. These arrogant, pompous, entitled, stupid, malevolent, pernicious ... well that didn't go too well, let's have another go. 

According to my text book to get in the right mood you have to able to subvert the dominant social-realist genre. 

That may require a slight paradigm shift since our current dictators probably don't have a profound grounding in social-realist film. Rather more a complete misunderstanding of Ealing comedy, endless reshowing of The Dambusters coupled with an automatic genuflection in the direction of anything about Winston and The War, the Blitz spirit and the charming regional types who carried on regardless.

So perhaps the first rule and indeed the only rule is to take what subversion of the dominant social-realist genre was really about:

- a reflection of genuine yearning amid social constraints and arbitrary political decisions;

- tragi-comedy and wry wit and observation;

- some understated and indeed unrecognised heroism in the face of authoritarianism;  

- a deeply humanistic concern with the individual -  not the collective. 

Because when you're dating under the dictatorship you're not concerned with the will of the people (even if such a thing existed) you are concerned with the value of the individual. And that's really why as the UK teeters on the brink of being a failed state with its worst ever government, we can do much worse than get out there and date away and, so to speak, stick it to the fuckers.

Tres iubentium!