We are reliably informed, by those upon whom we reliably rely for our information, that we live in a “post-truth” age.
At a time when assertions of “facts” are destabilising at best and terrifying at worst, it’s a phrase, which, like the foreign sounding “Iced Caramel Macchiato” have become part of our linguistic currency. But what is the current value of the truth pound, dollar, euro or yen?
Donald Trump who is soon to prise the reigns of power from the stunned and resentful staff of the stunned and resentful White House, knows what truth is.
It’s the words he’s used to galvanise the Electoral College who chose to put him in the top job. Irrespective of the fact that Hilary Clinton managed to gain the majority of the popular vote, Donald Trump is going to march purposefully up to the microphone, place his hand on the bible and stick it to the liberal elite; before building his wall.
Nothing, to my mind, says “anti-elitist, pro-inclusivity” than a great, big, physical barrier, at the border between countries.
But I was talking about truth.
Katie Hopkins tells the truth. She has experienced a stratospheric career trajectory out of doing just that. She tells us all the time that she “tells it like it is”. She tells us this with more of that fabrication destroying currency, called words. Words that triumphantly, bring to our consciousness, real and present societal dangers like “being overweight”, “children’s names”, “compassion”, and “refugees who drown whilst pursuing sanctuary”.
Nigel Farage is another truth teller. He nobly led his supporters and those who aren’t his supporters but who were afraid for the NHS, to the truth laden Brexit which we’re all so looking forward to and which our government are handling so well.
Nothing says democracy more than the UK Government, challenging the decision of high court judges who have spent their lives upholding truth and justice. No one could argue either, with the truth inherent in detailing the sexuality of one of those judges on the front page of a national newspaper, the day after the ruling. Because apparently that matters.
Both Farage and Hopkins champions of the average Jo and Josephine, are close friends of the Donald. They wafted away the pungent aroma of challenges to their truth, which filled our lungs, concerning their friend as the presidential race began in earnest.
As that aroma hardened into a stench, they joined the chorus of loyal Trump supporters in reassuring us that Tax issues, sexual assault, racism, islamophobia, misogyny and punishment for women exercising control over their own uterus, were simply the ranting of a country and indeed a world who had been lied to by the establishment.
Nothing to my mind says anti-establishment more than a rich, white, Christian, heterosexual, businessman, TV star, bragging about how he can do as he wishes with a woman’s genitalia, because he’s famous. When it comes to locker room banter, Donald is a perfect 10.
So where do all of us feature in the unstoppable rise of post truth. Do we even care as we settle down for a bit more of the panacea of reality TV shows, punctuated briefly by our time on social media nobly haranguing those who dare not to wear a poppy.
As the hate crimes soar and the written rape threats to women MP’s multiply we all need to smile. Disabled people have long been the scapegoat de jour but you won’t find any truth there either.
Fortunately we have had our eyes opened to the truth in respect of disabled people, who irritatingly express a wish to exist, eat and have a roof over their heads. Fortunately truth tellers who lead the DWP had a plan of honesty which pre dates the post truth Johnny and Jenny come lately’s.
Any sickness benefit claimants were politely instructed to attend interviews, where they were expected to answer truthfully, honest questions about their health by highly qualified assessors. The myriad and complex nature of medical training that requires years of study in both mental and physical health, can in the post truth era, be desiccated into inquiring of the claimant whether they can, in fact, lift a cardboard box or place a pen into their top pocket.
Nothing to me says, “Fit for Work” more than the man who died from a heart attack after collapsing in one of these assessment centres. The letter his family received from the DWP stating those words after his funeral, bears out my point too.
The Work and Pensions Secretary Damian Green MP was also truthful in his critique of “I Daniel Blake”. The film by Ken Loach detailed many accounts of those who queue at the food banks, which feed hundreds of thousands of people who have been, in truth, sanctioned into starvation.
Damian Green hadn’t seen it, when he criticised it, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t an expert in being able to truthfully challenge the fictitious nature of the annoyingly well-researched film. Damian Green had no reason not to champion his DWP employees. He just forgot to champion the employees who had told the truth to Ken Loach, as Green, with absolutely no agenda whatsoever, branded the film “a fiction”. Columnist Camilla Long also added her doubtful view as to the truth inherent in the film including the fact that her partner is from Newcastle and he doesn’t know any carpenters called Daniel.
Facts like these need to be heard. Never mind Peter Bradshaw and Mark Kermode with their complimentary critiques based on their expert experience of reviewing films. We know that the post truth era has no time for experts.A quick look at their timeline will show the discerning reader that they never stop promoting a litany of liberal and elitist lies. They may be well concealed as film reviews or tweets about other things but look closely, look through the lens of post truth and you will see the veracity of my statement.
If they like films so much, perhaps they should go and live in North Korea.
Nothing to me says “Palme D’Or winning film” more than the suggestion of an entire fabrication, which can easily be discounted and disavowed by the government responsible for it’s creation and which tens of thousands of benefit claimants have embraced, as an accurate representation of their lives. The conspiracy theory inherent in that collusion knocks Area 51 into a cocked hat, because no one likes a liar Ken.
But I have drifted away from my main point, which was about the inconvenient post truth, truth, that Donald Trump is going to be the new President. He is trusted by many millions of Americans and much more importantly, he is trusted by Katie Hopkins, Nigel Farage, Kanye West, and Milo Yiannopoulos. I’m sure like me, these people are definitely the ones to whom you listen when making important decisions like choosing the person to carry the responsibility of punching in the nuclear codes.
He may be feared, by some, but those who fear him just don’t understand him, or indeed the new Vice President Elect and supporter of musical theatre, Mike Pence. A fan of the, in no way unethical, gay conversion therapy. What kind of world are we inhabiting where a Vice President elect can’t attend the theatre anymore, without being politely reminded by an actor not to forget those who need the administration to support them?
I was incandescently offended, as only a Brietbart employee instructs us definitely, not to be.
This dynamic duo have a mission, they are honest, they are a break from the dull boring ideals of Presidents of the past like Barack Obama who wanted to do reprehensible things, like bring health care to millions of disenfranchised Americans.
Thankfully politicians like Hilary Clinton, who used email and gave speeches with styled hair and whilst wearing make-up, are going to be a thing of the past. As an experienced Senator (2001-2009), Secretary of State (2009-2013) and First Lady (1993-2001) what does she know about running a country?
Donald knows how to run a golf club and a hotel chain which is better than a country, because those sand traps don’t rake themselves, nor does the toilet paper form itself into a pointed edge and that’s what really matters.
Details like that along with racist walls, racist registers, misogynistic loss of reproductive rights and staying up to date with your "in no way embarrassing" Twitter feed, will make America and by extension, the world great again.
I say we give them a chance. Post truth is the new truth, so stop whining about rights and grab yourself some pussy.