IM NOT INTERESTED IN THE NEWS BECAUSE ONE CAN NEVER KNOW THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD
“Do you have Rizzla?” I heard faintly amid the conversational static on the buzzing terrace of an east-London bar. I didn’t flinch as I cradled my cocktail in both hands. I continued to vacantly peer down at the curves that the liquid made as it hugged those perfectly manufactured cubes of ice. Sat at the end of a wooden bench, I took another sip and poked around the glass with my chewed-up straw, assessing my levels of sobriety. “Do you have Rizzla?” I heard again, this time in a more defined clarity. I glanced over my shoulder to notice Jake patting his coat pockets and apologetically shaking his head at a figure sitting on the other side of the table. I turned away as if slightly disinterested before noisily slurping up the stagnant remains of my drink. Bored, I took one last exploratory look at the group of kids drinking peacefully in the moonlit alley opposite me, before shuffling around to face Jake and the voice. As soon as I had finished awkwardly lifting my coat and arranging myself to fit my legs under the table without having to stand up, an English lad in his late twenties was already staring at me with a rather intense focus when I lifted my head. He raised his fair eyebrows and robustly requested in a somewhat alluring vanity, “Do… you have Rizzla?” I paused for an instant as my eyes flickered to inspect the large black fleshies he wore in both ears. In a fleeting amount of time I re-affixed his gaze, his eyes a profound, mysterious green which seemed to violate mine with a probing intellect. “Narr I don’t hey, do y’have draw?!” I playfully answered and waited for his reaction. He lowered his head subtly wearing a cowardly smirk before stating, “Yea I do but just for one”. As if I had uncovered some forbidden secret of his intention for that Rizzla, I chuckled boldly and then began tearing into my satchel, throwing things around in vain for a loose paper, knowing quite well that I hadn’t had any in there for some time…
That would be the night I would experience mind control at its most basic and at its best; first hand and free. Hypnotist, let’s call him, Mr M, baffled me, my friends and the others that sheepishly flocked around him for over an hour. Concerns over catching the last tube home after midnight dissolved, as this master of the people persisted to astound and astonish anyone daring enough to “pick a card any card”. I had drawn the Queen of hearts on a piece of paper as Jake (moments later) chose it out of the deck at random. He had written down to the penny exactly how much money Dave had in his wallet before making Jake ‘envision’ the very four digits that would unlock Mr M’s very own iPhone. As much as I marvelled at his finely-tuned psychological beacon for the suggestible type, I’ve never felt so jealous of how easily he could, quite literally, attach the strings and transform us all into stupid-faced puppets for his very own seemingly morbid pleasure. His casualness and modest assertiveness was lucidly compelling, he was the Pied Piper and we were his rats. Willingly, we all submitted to his paramount supremacy. He was in control, the leader, and we all knew it, whether we liked it or not. I wanted that. I wanted that control, and here I was belittled at my own game, laughing hysterically every time I couldn’t grasp how he did something. We left with tails between our legs, mystified and actually okay with it. Still, I also felt more like a pawn in society than I had ever felt before… well that feeling subsided for a moment while I drunkenly inhaled half a double-whopper-with-cheese outside Burger King shortly after.
Gazing defeated out of the window of bus 25 sometime later, I pondered the idea of free will. Are we as free-willed as we think we are? Do all the decisions I make consciously or unconsciously stem from my own devices? The answer made perfect sense to me now more than ever; of course not. Well at least not half as much as I once believed or anyone else for that matter. Hypnotism like mind reading and the like is often associated with entertainment, trickery and magic, but magic is what we call anything that we can’t explain – until we can explain it. And just like magic, if you do two minutes of research, or watch one episode of Derren Brown, you’ll see that hypnotists are just trained experts in the art of reading people and controlling the circumstance. Put technically, it’s the critical analysis of our most subtle movements and responses sided with the implantation of a series of preliminary instructions and suggestions to lead us to the desired outcome. So, yeah, in layman’s terms… it’s just psychology, ta da! As we’re becoming more understandable, we are just becoming more alterable. Not so magical no, but this means I’m going to have to talk about free will, which is a whole other can of worms that I’ll probably touch on another day. But the last time I checked; I’m a prisoner to my genes, moods, environment, senses, society, past and present, which all influences my future. Your suggestibility (or willingness to comply) will predict your future choices, as hypnotists prove so rightly with their results being too blatantly in-your-face obvious to ignore.
I always knew… rather, felt, that we are susceptible to what we see, hear, taste and listen to everyday, but with what precision and to what extent? Thus my fascination and indifference with the media was born. The media is the most powerful entity on Earth and its blatant control over the masses is overwhelmingly obvious yet eerily disregarded. The media controls what the world sees and how it sees it, so basically, any blank slated mind out there will be naturally inclined to believe practically anything it sees without questioning its reliability. The media is a magnifying glass that can blow events out of proportion, overlook them or kill them as soon as it roams elsewhere. Life is only in the spotlight. So really, what you are being shown is what they want you to see. What about the things you don’t see? Argh, but who cares right? We all know that right? But you all know what that means don’t you? You’re thoughts aren’t necessarily your own. Being ‘out of the loop’ is one of the most daunting things for most people these days… why? Because the media has successfully imbedded itself into our most basic human needs; to be socially accepted and to share experience. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and all the rest are so successful because we neeeed to see what other people are doing in order to judge the success of our own lives by comparing it with ‘your mates’. If you live in the jungle and nobody else knows about gangnam style, or another gruesome school massacre, you won’t have to either and for fuck sake, you’d all be the lucky ones.