Brand's No Revolutionary

The video currently making the rounds across the internet is that of Jeremy Paxman interviewing Russell Brand about his position as guest editor of the New Statesman. Almost invariably on social media, it is annotated with a comment supporting Brand’s arguments against democracy. Gawker even suggested Brand may have started a revolution in its headline. But Brand’s half-realized arguments about his political apathy illustrate why he could never start a revolution amongst the people he claims to represent.



Paxman begins by asking who is Brand to be editing a political magazine, to which Brand replies: “I suppose like a person who’s being politely asked by an attractive woman. I don’t know what the typical criteria is [sic]. I don’t know many people that [sic] edit political magazines.” Now Brand is a comedian, so obviously we expect some humour in his responses, but he barely defends the position he’s accepted, reducing his acceptance to a quasi-sexual favour. And to start out by saying that he does not know the typical criteria to be the editor of a political magazine (because a degree in English and an interest in politics seems so far-fetched a concept) sets the stage for his subsequent arguments: half-informed and lacking common sense.

Brand does not vote. And when asked how he can comment on politics when he doesn’t exercise this democratic right, Brand replies: “I don’t get my authority from this pre-existing paradigm that only serves a few people. I look elsewhere for alternatives that might be of service to humanity.”

Democracy serves everyone, but only if everyone performs one fundamental act: they vote. The authority of politicians and in turn other authority figures (judges, police officers, teachers) depends upon the fact that members of a society are aware of their own personal belief systems, seek out a leader to further their goals and vote for them. Brand’s spouting of revolution and alternative systems mean nothing if he or others are unwilling to put them into action. And the democratic right to vote is one of the simplest ways to tell the system how you want it run.

Brand is disillusioned with the way British society works, implying that a utopian system shouldn’t “destroy the planet,” “create massive economic disparity” and “ignore the needs of the people.” But when asked what alternate system we could have, he flippantly answers “Well I’ve not invented it yet!” Later in the interview he dodges another point blank question by Paxman: “I’m asking you what it [the revolution] will be like” to which Brand responds: “I think what it won’t be like is…” and then just lists again his grievances with the current system. You can complain all you want, but nothing will change until you take that first step of filling out a ballot.

After Brand advances his position that corporations should be taxed, Paxman asks: “Who would levy these taxes?” to which Brand answers: “I think we need a centralized administrative system.” Ummm, like a government? Brand then gets angry that Paxman would dare to ask him these logistical questions in an interview when all he is calling for is change. (And if I had the space, I would trot out a flurry of examples of people who effected change – it takes both an idea and a means to bring about the change.) Brand also attempts to imply that facetiousness is just as valuable as seriousness – and that we won’t solve world problems with seriousness or facetiousness. Again reverting to humour when there is no viable alternative because he hasn’t actually thought of one.

Brand’s political views are actually quite similar to mine: redistribution of wealth through taxation (and higher tax rates for corporations), responsibility of energy companies and taking care of the underclass. But the fundamental difference, and why I am so disillusioned with everyone lauding this interview, is how completely uninterested he is in making any real and lasting change to British society. He crows about societal inequities and references a woman he just spoke to who’s been “fucked over by the aristocrats,” but is completely unwilling to do anything about it in any practical terms. He says he is trying to change the current system but offers absolutely nothing in tangible proposals or tactics to remedy the current system which he eviscerates so vehemently (and with such big, alliterative words!).

The only point where Brand has a valid argument is when he references the underclass who are as apathetic as he and don’t bother to vote: “Well I was busy being a drug addict [when Brand was 18] because I come from the kind of social conditions that are exacerbated by an indifferent system that really just administrates for large corporations and ignores the population that it was voted in to serve.” He’s right. There is a whole segment of society who, for a variety of socio-economic and psychological reasons, cannot be arsed to vote. And this is where Brand really fails.

He has a chance to really effect change: he knows what it’s like to live in those social conditions. He knows what it’s like to be a drug addict. He knows what it’s like to be apathetic towards the current system because it isn’t serving him. But he is now in a position to support a political candidate who is willing to do the work to effect change in Britain. Maybe Brand doesn’t want to get his hands dirty and reassess the way social programs are administered or how taxes are levied or how government funds are distributed. But he has very real power, gained from within the system he criticizes, to influence the voting habits and political leanings of a great number of people in Britain.

“I’m not voting out of apathy, I’m not voting out of absolute indifference and weariness and exhaustion,” he says. This is not acceptable. Not from someone like Brand who accepts the position of editor for a political magazine, espouses clear political views on a national television program and has the profile and audience to actually start a revolution. Brand says: “When there is a genuine alternative, a genuine option, then vote for that.” So he clearly supports democracy, just isn’t willing to work towards that genuine alternative.

At the end of the interview, Brand just becomes whiney – wondering why Paxman made a career of grilling politicians but then has a go at Brand because doesn’t like politicians. Of course he’s having a go: a real journalist holds his or her interview subject to account, asking uncomfortable questions of the subject. And they certainly won’t accept a call for a revolution from someone whose arsenal is filled only with facetiousness and suggestions of what not to do.

Gaz as a Morally Superior Character on Geordie Shore: a Five (okay, Six) Paragraph Essay

For those of you not familiar with the lazy summer indulgence which is endless episodes of Geordie Shore online, let me enlighten you. Based on MTV’s Jersey Shore, Geordie Shore takes the same concept of putting a bunch of twenty-somethings into a house, adding shedloads of alcohol and filming all the shagging, yelling and falling over that ensues. Now in its sixth season (and a seventh one being filmed), the show features eight housemates and is an anthropological study in the all the bad choices we make after the first two decades of living (and, well, all the fun that is had, too).

The paralytic drunkeness is worrisome and the men’s sole focus on “banging birds” makes one wonder how far feminism in the UK has really come since Emily Wilding Davison threw herself in front of the king’s horse a hundred years ago. Gary Beadle, known as Gaz, is the show’s top womanizer and has expressed his dislike of dates: “I don’t see the point in them. You might as well just skip the bullshit, go home and do [what] yous both wanna do and just bang.” (Although in an interesting inversion, he expresses distaste at being objectified when he is auctioned off at a charity event by his boss. “We’re not a piece of meat, Anna,” he says with indignation and absolutely no realization of his hypocrisy.) Despite his love of shagging random girls, he does, however, conduct himself in a consistently morally correct manner by telling the truth, criticizing others who cheat on their partners, and considering the feelings of Charlotte, his on-again-off-again love interest.

Gaz likes to go out drinking and pull as many women as possible (“pull” is a British term for pick up). In nearly every episode, he expresses this desire and we almost always see him follow through on his plan. In the first series, he has sex with Charlotte and we begin to see them develop feelings for each other. They will often fall into each other’s beds throughout the series if the other hasn’t pulled. However, not once does Gaz lie to Charlotte about their situation. He tells her he likes her, he enjoys their bedroom romps, but he cannot be her boyfriend. Even though Charlotte is clearly enamoured with him and will sleep with him even when she tells herself she shouldn’t, Gaz doesn’t use her infatuation just to have sex.

Although he enjoys his own promiscuity, Gaz is highly critical of other male’s philandering behaviour. When Sophie’s boyfriend Joel is flirting with different girls on spring break in Mexico in the third season, Gaz is not impressed: “For me, Joel’s got a bird, he’s seeing Sophie, he should be in Jay’s mindset [a Geordie Shore character who has a girlfriend at home and refrains from hitting on girls]…Joel’s still in my mindset…Joel keeps forgetting he’s got a girlfriend.” Gaz is similarly unimpressed with Vicky at the beginning of season 2 when she is getting closer and closer to housemate Ricci, but has a boyfriend on the outside. At the beginning of season 4, Charlotte arrives in the house with a boyfriend of two months, however she gets drunk and climbs into Gaz’s bed one night. He leaves the bed and expresses confusion as to why she’s doing this if she has a boyfriend.

Throughout the series, we watch the relationship between Gaz and Charlotte unfold: from their lovemaking to their fighting to their jealousies to their attempts at friendship. What emerges is actually a really sweet and caring relationship. They both enjoy each other’s (clothed) company and make honest attempts at a friendship free of the complications of sex. Gaz has been truthful with Charlotte from the beginning about his inability to commit just to her, but still realizes how much he hurts her when she sees him flirting with other girls. And he is entirely forgiving of her when she freaks out over his conquests: “There’s only so long I can stay mad at Charlotte for, so I give her a little hug and that’s it, forgotten.” At many points in the later seasons, Gaz expresses his fondness for Charlotte above others and his desire to have her around. And it is he who makes the rule later on in season 3 that he won’t sleep with her because he knows how much that complicates things for Charlotte.

Gaz shows himself to be a morally superior character for much of Geordie Shore by consistently telling the truth, expressing his distaste for people who are unfaithful in a relationship and by showing empathy for Charlotte who loves him and wants a more stable relationship. I do use the phrase “morally superior” with just a hint of irony: much of the behaviour on the show would be morally reprehensible to large portions of the world’s population. Morality has to do with what is right and what is wrong and those opposing ideas can be very different throughout humankind. But Gaz lives his life according to his own principles and his behaviour reflects his beliefs. Now if only we could get him to see that he treats women as part of an endless supply of faceless pleasure. And maybe Charlotte is the girl to do it.

Can't Take a Joke

In a recent column for Salon.com, Tracy Flory-Clark asks why can’t we quit with all the gay jokes – specifically the uncomfortable comedic scenes popular in modern comedy where heterosexual guys have to feign sexual interest in each other.



Now I’m a pretty big decrier of gay jokes – but there are subtle differences between the gay wedding depicted in Saturday Night Live's video and your standard gay joke. Comedy plays on the opposite of what you expect – for example, when Rob Ford falls over whilst throwing a football (seriously, watch this): it’s funny because he’s a football coach and supposed to be a pulled-together member of society leading our great city (oh well). So if you deconstruct the videos referenced by Flory-Clark, they are not making fun of being homosexual - proliferating stereotypes or portraying gay men as "lesser" - they make fun of known straight guys in a scenario which is the opposite of our expectations. With the spring break rap, it turns the whole idea of sowing one’s wild oats on its head (now that gay men and women can get married in some places) when the male rappers sing: "Down here it's our time/Spring Breakers/Get fucked up/Then find Mr. Right/and get monogamous".



What’s more troubling to me (perhaps as I’m a straight female and not a gay man?) is advertisements like this one that recently came up in my Facebook feed. I actually took some time to analyze my feelings about it, reconciling them to my core beliefs about sports and porn. What’s very obvious is that the director is taking a traditionally male sport and explaining the rules by using scantily-clad female athletes. Already, the athleticism of the game is demoted to a spot well below how these girls look (despite the fact they all seem to be quite athletic). Although they appear serious about the physicality of the sport, the shots of their various body parts detract from any marvel one might have at their skill.

There is a certain amount of sexual viewing that goes along with watching sports (I always catch my breath when Freddie Ljundeberg’s shirt comes off) but that is not the main reason for the Lynx match. We may think sexual thoughts about people in all sorts of scenarios - like a hot doctor in scrubs. But - the primary purpose of doctors in scrubs is not to look good for patients, just as the primary reason we go to sports matches to not to check out the athletes' bodies.

I’m also supportive of porn as long as it is ethically-sourced, so to speak. So why did this ad bother me? Was it not just a chance for boys to look at tits and ass?

And the answer lies in my criticism of Flory-Clark’s piece: this video was not made as comedy, pulling a 180 our expectations of rugby players the way Zach’s video made light of the heterosexual freedom rites before (gay) marriage. It was made to view women’s bodies. And there is already a well-worn field in which to view women’s bodies: porn. Having a bunch of women play a sport in order for men to ogle their bodies instead of marvel at their athletic skill is reductive and sexist.

Boys, Boobs and Bad Decisions (or, Seth McFarlane Hosts the Oscars)

Last night, the Oscars, meant to celebrate greatness in film, reduced half of the people working in the industry to a pair of boobs whose sole purpose was as an object for men to stare at.

In the first hour of the show, host Seth McFarlane sang and danced his way through a list of actresses who had taken their tops off in various films (which, Amy Davidson of the New Yorker points out, were serious, issue-driven movies like Brokeback Mountain and the Accused). This wasn’t a single verse in a number about movie nudity: it was an entire song devoted to degrading the talented, multi-faceted women in the audience, stripping (sorry) them of their dramatic skill and reducing them to a pair of tits.

I get it – boobs are great. And sometimes the sight of them in a serious movie might prompt a fleshly admiration slightly out of line with the tone of the film. But when McFarlane and producers devote a good 4 minutes of the Oscars entertainment to a bit on whose boobs we’ve seen, they’re making a comment on how they value women in the industry (and indeed, women in general).

In the few snippets of the Oscars I watched this time around (I’ve been on a lazy boycott since Titanic won), reducing women to things that we look at seems par for the course: watch this clip of Jennifer Lawrence fielding questions from reporters after her win.

Save for the first question, dealing with mental illness, the rest of the questions were inane and unrelated to her win – and Ms. Lawrence dealt with them expertly. When asked about her fall on the way up to receive her statue, she says: “What do you mean what happened?! Look at my dress! I tried to walk up stairs in this dress, that’s what happened...I think I just stepped on the fabric and they waxed the stairs” followed by a near imperceptible look that says it all: “Really? Is this what you’re asking me after I’ve won an Oscar in a movie which deals with mental illness?”

Many people have defended McFarlane, wondering what one would expect when you have the writer of Family Guy hosting the Oscars – but that doesn’t make it okay. Making jokes that place women’s worth solely on the nakedness of their breasts during an international broadcast is entirely inappropriate. (And so was his Chris Brown and Rihanna joke: Django Unchained was “the story of a man fighting to get back his woman who has been subjected to unthinkable violence. Or as Chris Brown and Rihanna call it, a date movie.” So now we're publicly calling out a victim of domestic violence in a distasteful quip?)

I can make the worst jokes and the most inappropriate comments, but I know my audience. I know who knows my actual values and McFarlane should never have risked the kind of offence he caused a significant portion of the population – whether our tits are in or out.