I woke up this morning, just as you probably did, to the news that Whitney Houston had died, aged 48. It's one of those days when frankly I'd rather not be on Twitter. We follow the same pattern we've seen on recent events.
Initial Responses
First come the people announcing the news. Many people wake up and tweet it as if they are breaking some news. Look at your timeline first and you'll realise that 1/3 of the tweets probably relate to it.
People then express their upset. It's often heartfelt if they are fans. For this to be a big story it means that the person involved had or used to have a major fan base. Even if you haven't bought the person's records recently, or seen a film they've been in, or watched the sport they played, you'll have seen their name and know who they are. For me in this case the news brought back memories of my 15th birthday and a song that was in the charts. Like it or not, "celebrity" forms a big part of our every day existence.
The RIPs flood in. I guess this is just a way of people expressing their sorrow, but there is very little can be said and when you've seen the 18th in a row, you wonder a little what it is adding, even if it harms no one.
The Worthies
Next we have the "worthies". These are mainly people on the left who attack the "cult of celebrity". Yes, you have a point. Children were killed in Gaza, people were murdered by their government in Syria, homeless people will be freezing to death in this weather. Thanks for pointing this out. Does it mean though that someone expressing their upset about an artist they liked cannot feel upset and outrage about this too? Why is it one or the other? Is emotion like a pie that has to be shared out in a limited number of pieces? Do you think for one moment that the press will change its ways because you've got on your soapbox? In any case, the news *is* actually full of stories about Syria and it's a sickening upsetting sight we're all to familiar with. My timeline has been full of discussion about it. Do you feel better, more intelligent, or that you've somehow proved your moral integrity for having tweeted about this?
You're also missing an important point: we have a "relationship" with celebrities that we do not with the people involved in these other matters. I can feel horror and pain at the sight of a nameless child on my TV, but he or she has not formed part of my memory and day to day life in the way a celebrity has. I know who Whitney Houston, Amy Winehouse or Gary Speed "was": it is only natural I will a degree of association I cannot with the other victims unless I've family or friends in the place affected. That in no way means the death of the individuals elsewhere is less important (and it's a bit idiotic that I have to add this sentence for the avoidance of doubt.)
The Jokes
Next we have the sick jokes. They're not even original. The one below appeared six times in a row on a search. People aren't even crediting it, they're stealing it from one another. I like to think I have quite a good sense of humour (who doesn't) - but frankly, just fuck off.
I've got no time for anyone in my timeline who thinks it's amusing to joke about the recent death of a mother and to compare that to a load of murdered teenagers.
Moral Lessons
Next come the moral lessons. In some cases, for example Gary Speed, Twitter served arguably a good function in getting people to talk about the issue of suicide. I found that day personally a bit overwhelming and had to get out. Anyone who has thought about suicide is well aware of the issues and I do have some residual doubts that his tragic death will have "served the greater good" in any way, but the intentions are no doubt good.
With Whitney Houston, we've already had people falling over themselves to warn of the dangers of drugs. The first point here is no one knows if her death was drugs related. People did exactly the same with Amy Winehouse, and it looks like it was actually alcohol that killed her. The next point is that I remember well when River Phoenix died. Did his death have the slightest bearing on me in my twenties as to my own behaviour? Of course it bloody didn't. WE ALL KNOW drugs are a bad thing that can and do cause deaths. You'd have to be an utter moron not to. I really don't think that my tweeting "now kids, remember, don't do drugs" is going to have any effect on any of my followers.
Into the moral lessons come the snide remarks about someone's life. Yes, Whitney Houston apparently had major substance issues. How about feeling compassion, rather than judging her when she has not even been dead 12 hours? Again what does that do? Make you feel oh so smug? Well good for you.
Saying Nothing
Twitter is about saying things. It is Camus in action: it wouldn't exist if we didn't say things: we'd be looking at a big blank screen with nothing going on. I tweet, therefore I am. The same can be said about this blog: why am I even bothering to blog this? It's not about dictating how people should react or tweet, it's about thinking a little bit more about things. You can agree or disagree, but at least you've considered the issue.
It really is the biggest cliché but I do think the saying "If you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all" could applied a bit more frequently. An event like this brings out the worst of people. Worthiness, smugness, judgement, sick jokes. Someone has died: I can see the arguments breaking out already on my timeline and people taking objection to things others have said. Isn't that a bit sad?
I didn't know Whitney Houston: I didn't particularly like her music. I didn't feel the need to tweet anything about her this morning: Bren (above) just said it perfectly for me. I'm so glad Twitter wasn't around when Princess Diana died: it would literally have been unbearable. When Mrs Thatcher dies it will be the same. You don't have to worship someone, agree with them, or even like them at all to realise a death is a genuinely sad thing for many people. In my view it's not hard just to see it in those simple terms and to respect that.
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