A man looks up on a yellow sky

24 06 2016

As I watched the ticker on the BBC website tilt “Leave” I kept murmuring You stupid bastards.

Not that my opinion matters, of course. David Cameron gave the peoples of the United Kingdom The Clash’s choice, and choose they did.

I have no idea what this means, for the UK, for Europe, or for the US. There are smart people who can game out possible scenarios, but, at this point, the pieces are all still jumbled.

The leftist and partisan in me was, for reasons of pessimism, the murmurer; the political scientist was, in considering the jumble, more Well, isn’t this interesting.

Both, however, agree that voting to go while wanting to stay is a bad, bad tactic:

But many voters have since spoken out saying they are shocked at the poll’s outcome and did not believe their Leave votes would actually count.

One voter, named only as Adam from Manchester, told the BBC: “I didn’t think that was going to happen.

“My vote – I didn’t think was going to matter too much because I thought we were just going to remain.

More:

Another voter, Mandy, said: “I was very disappointed about the result, even though I voted to leave, this morning I woke up and the reality did actually hit me.

“But if I had the opportunity to vote again, it would be to stay.”

This person, however, really takes the tea-cake:

One said: “I personally voted leave believing these lies and I regret it more than anything, I feel genuinely robbed of my vote.”

I feel genuinely robbed of my vote. You stupid bastard.

Advertisements




Like a bird on a wire

24 06 2016

So, I’ve been on Twitter for a minute and my impression thus far is: huh.

I thought the problem would be that I’d be constantly chattering away, constantly trying to get both the first and last words, and constantly hung up in this spat or that.

Not what’s happened.

Oh, I’ve jumped in here and there, but, mostly, I’m just listening in. I have almost no followers (which is a) not a surprise, given my relative silence; b) yeah, an ego dent; and c) probably for the best), but am slowly building a roster of people who I want to follow.

And that’s where the “huh” comes in: While most (not all) of the people I follow are on the left, they’re not all left in the same way. In particular, I follow a number of bloggers who are black, which means I’m not only able easily to eavesdrop on conversations of which I otherwise might not even be aware, I’m also able to see how those conversations play out.

That’s key: I’m certainly used to reading and hearing black (and Latino and Asian) voices in the media, but, for the most part, these are media saturated in whiteness. I don’t mean white supremacy—The Atlantic, whatever its faults, is not a vehicle for supremacism—but that the story choices and the readership are largely white.

Black Twitter writes for itself. It’s not that the conversation is confined to black people, but that the microphone is located firmly within black America, and passed around to other black people. I can listen in, but whether or not I do so is rather besides the point.

This is not a surprise. I mean, any white person who’s ever heard a Chris Rock performance knows that how black people talk amongst themselves is not how they talk with white people. But even as someone who is not completely clueless about the existence of black culture, it can still be a smack upside my head to see, in real time, it’s not all about me.

And that’s bracing, in the best possible way.