Saturday, 31 May 2014

Further adventures in overthinking things

Current earworm: Geronimo by Sheppard.

For the benefit of any 27th century archaeologists reading this, this song is everywhere at the moment.  In fact, I think a big discount store near work has had it on a constant loop for the last month, because literally every time I've been in there (which is frequently, because they do big bags of choc honeycomb for $4) there's been someone hollering "bombs away!" over the crackly speakers.

Here's the film clip, without which the rest of this post won't make a lot of sense:

The film clip's got me thinking about this thing I have with fantasy and reality.

Yes, I can tell fantasy from reality - at least, insofar as anyone can.  All of us inhabit not just the tangible world but the world of our mind and imagination, and we all experience a whole lot of stuff that's no less real for not having actually happened in any quantifiable sense.

But little kids can't tell fantasy from reality the way older people can, and I think it took me longer to get my head around the concept than it takes most kids.  Certainly I remember being ten or twelve and really freaked out an episode of The Goodies called The End, in which the boys' office gets encased in concrete and they're trapped for eleventy billion years.  The Goodies is not gritty drama.  It is not graphic.  It is not realistic.  It's a 70s British comedy that spawned a song called Funky Gibbon and some unfortunate overalls.  It is not nightmare material.

Unless you're me, apparently. 

My mind does this thing where even though I know it's not real, a part of me thinks it is or it could be.  Then I either freak out about it (in the case of gore, violence, or implied cruelty or suffering of any kind) or take it seriously and try to analyse it and make sense of it even though that's patently ludicrous.

Which brings us (at last) back to Sheppard and their cardboard-based music video.  I know trying to analyse such a thing is ridiculous.  And obviously, I know it's not real.

But it really bugs me that in the big final battle they've put their big game-changing Frankenstein's monster secret weapon at the back of the group, behind all the fragile humans including one wrapped in bandages, rather than out the front where it's the first thing the enemy encounters.  What the hell sort of strategy is that?