The ‘Mur’ vs. TheMoine
You’ve probably heard the by-now-quite-old news about the big Fringe ‘feud’ between the food blogger and the artistic director who finally tired of her blah blah blah and made a nasty comment on her blog and put her on his theatre company’s negative guest list and quite bruised her tender feelings and those of her boyfriend and their “followers,” inciting a virtual kerfuffle, the kind which hasn’t been seen since some other person had an online snit and somebody else found that ‘inappropriate’.
The problem with social media like Facebook and blogs and all that, for immortals* like myself and my 68Comeback Special co-host Tom, can be summed up in three words: kids these days.
I’m not saying it was totally different back then. I mean, they still amounted to inconsequential disputes over meaningless nonsense and all that. BUT – back when WE were…younger, if you wanted to have a feud, not only did you have to physically venture out and find a peat bog that would satisfy both feuding parties, but you would have to actually go around to each and every one of your neighbours, friends and family to gather your support together, and THEN you had to make sure they were properly fed and armed (and sometimes even paid!) if you didn’t want to get your ass kicked. And you could just about forget about it entirely if it was harvest time or grub hunting season or something like that, because getting all those people together in the same place on the same date was some kinda impossible organizational undertaking.
Today, what do you have to do? Send out an e-mail or a tweet or two – He said what? He said that! How could he? I don’t know, but he did! – and all of a sudden everyone’s a-squeakin’ and a-squawkin’ alright, but there’s not a gnashed tooth or a rent garment to be seen for it. Nobody even gets hurt, let alone crippled, and you can be 99% certain that nobody will actually die as a result of a feud nowadays. Anti-climactic? Quite.
But I guess it’s not quite fair to just mock the kids for it. Even the age-old feud between Tom and local playwright Stewart Lemoine, over Stewart’s popover recipe, just doesn’t have the same sizzle it once did. This thing, which at one time would bring out hundreds per side to a pitched battle that would last for a couple of weeks if the weather held up, is started and finished on Facebook sooner than it takes an SBD** to dissipate.
S:I’ve a wonderful recipe. Made with tapioca flour!
T(with eye roll): We KNOW, Stewart! Your popovers are lovely.
S: How would YOU know? You’ve never once even tried one.
T: I know because everyone who’s ever wanted to be in one of your plays has said they’re wonderful, hint hint.
S: You know, Tom, you can be a tad mouthy when you’re awake…
And that’s it.
I guess I shouldn’t complain. Really good peat bogs get harder and harder to come by, and what the new feuds lack in pure physical aggression, they certainly do make up for in frequency, and the occasionally quite good turn of phrase.
But it’s more difficult than anyone could imagine to be immortal.
*Quite literally, undying old men cursed to wander the earth for all eternity. Did you know that Tom is 50 000 years old?
**A FART! Do I have to explain everything?