In defence of Diane Abbott
The Kernel’s media and celebrity columnist Ilana Fox comes out in support of a disgraced Labour MP, a ferocious media mogul’s missus and a delusional rapper. Don’t worry, we’re sending help.
Our interactions on the web have the ability to make us all look like grasping, desperate fools. Like a one-night stand with a man no stranger to the unforgiving gleam of the clap clinic, social networks create a false sense of intimacy. They lure us into believing that, in participating, we can be ourselves – that we can share our views and our tastes and that by doing so others will love us.
But as anyone who’s woken up next to a person they never intended to get feral with will know, the reality is somewhat different. We are not loved for being true to who we are; we are loved because he is drunk and horny. In the cold light of day, it is possible, even likely, that we will be rejected when he sees us without make-up on. When he sees who we really are.
Social networks, of course, are our distribution tools of choice in showing off the best, edited-for-publication versions of ourselves. We only allow flawless, skinny photos to grace our Facebook pages. We talk of things that make us look intelligent, rather than dumb.
And we’re always performing, even when we’re not aware of it. Social networks allow us to be at our first-date best over and over again. Our moody, ugly, bad-hair day selves are rarely allowed to make a cameo on the web.
Until, that is, we forget ourselves and think that he might just be into us after all.
One such victim of forgetting herself is Diane Abbott MP. Embraced in her own personal love-nest on Twitter, Abbott casually wrote: “white people love playing ‘divide and rule’”. What went wrong? She forgot she was supposed to be performing.
Rather than dressing in an expensive, see-through baby-doll that skims her worst bits and makes her tits look fabulous, she let it all out. She let herself be seen in her true light: unsupported, flabby, saggy, sad. And maybe a bit racist.
In a rush to defend herself – her excuse for allowing herself to be swept away on a wave of foolishness – Abbott released a statement. She said: “I understand people have interpreted my comments as making generalisations about white people. I do not believe in doing that. I apologise for any offence caused.”
But, of course, it is too late. Abbott believed that the gentle, accepting kisses and hair stroking of others meant something. She forget about the rules of digital reality and instead fell headlong into a bed of roses, aware of the thorns hidden beneath the sheets but thinking, perhaps, that they would not scratch her.
She forgot to play the role of the MP and fell for the myth that hyper-reality on the web is true.
Should we berate Abbott for casual racism? Of course. But, more than that, I think we should feel sorry for her. She is not the first woman to wake up the next morning to discover she’s not wanted thanks to her performance the night before, and she won’t be the last.
The digital economy we now live in makes everything and everyone disposable. How could it not when our words and our purchases are now made up of pixels rather than of something tangible?
What isn’t disposable, of course, is reputation. Abbott is now perfect BNP fodder, a woman who makes rash remarks, a woman who will now realise that being herself is the ultimate faux pas. How she’s managed to become an MP without first understanding this is beyond me.
Dude looks like a lady
As a Wendi Deng Murdoch aficionado, I was obviously delighted to see the woman herself on Twitter. And when she announced she was actually a Guardian-reading he, I shrugged my shoulders and decided I couldn’t care less.
The world needs more women like Wendi Deng, and, if someone wants to pretend to be her on Twitter, I’m all for it. Why not? It doesn’t ever really matter who’s behind the account so long as the right brand values are enforced – and let’s be honest, ghost writing on Twitter keeps plenty of redundant (and some not-quite-yet-redundant) journalists out of the benefits office.
I propose that the bored man who started the fictional account keeps it up. He clearly has nothing better to do, is fairly competent at pretending to be a kick-ass woman, and is obviously filling a gap in the market.
Deng is almost too good to be real. Why should she be real on Twitter?
Kanye do it
Yes he can! Especially if it means reinventing himself from a rapper to a Shoreditch-style nontrepreneur. Which is kind of nearly the same thing, but with less ass-shaking girls on your tail in the latter case.
For those of you still reading, yet confused, I’m talking about Kanye West coming over all undergraduate on Twitter yesterday.
If you believe his late-night statements, West has apparently started a company named DONDA (named for his mommy), which will change the world. He said: “DONDA is a design company which will galvanize amazing thinkers and put them in a creative space to bounce there [sic] dreams and ideas…”
So far so Silicon-Roundabout wishy-washy? Absolutely. But read further. ”We want to help simplify and aesthetically improve everything we see hear, touch, taste and feel. …To dream of, create, advertise and produce products driven equally by emotional want and utilitarian need. To marry our wants and needs.”
Several prominent Old Street angel investors, who have opted to remain anonymous, told me this morning that it sounds like a grand plan – indeed, it’s the most realistic pitch they’ve heard in months. They stand ready and willing to help fund the rapper’s endeavours.