Culture Night and The Failings of the Future

21 Sep

Technology has failed me twice tonight. I had this entire blog post typed out and was feeling rather proud of it and then, when I had the gall to try and add a picture, all of my beautiful words were stripped from the page leaving the cold, white glow of the empty box staring back at me, mocking me. The picture in question was one of Sheldon Cooper, a character in one of my most hated television shows ‘The Big Bang Theory’, of which I had a snide remark aimed at. I may still make this snide remark, sans picture, we’ll see what happens.

Tonight is ‘Culture Night’ in Belfast, which I find to be equally depressing and wonderful. I find it depressing because out of 365 days we can only find the time to devote one to an evening of culture while the other 364 are wholly dedicated to the barrage of mediocre television, film and music imposed upon us by the purveryors of mainstream media. We take one evening to feed our crumbling intellects and then return joyously to the comforting glow of our television sets for another year of mind-numbing ‘entertainment’.

What’s wonderful about Culture Night is that we have one, I guess.

Tonight, as a projectionist, I find myself in the Ulster Museum, where a screening of the great Woody Allen’s Annie Hall is taking place. I intend to spend most of my night watching what I can of the film through the glass window that separates myself from the audience.

When I have been released from my glass prison I shall be going off into the night, in search of a bar or other establishment in which large quantities of alcohol are available to engage in some culture as a consumer rather than a purveyor. I shall begin looking for this culture at the bottom of any pint glass I can get my grubby little hands around.

The second reason that technology has failed me today came in the form of my mobile phone (read: piece of shit). Amidst all of the ways in which it usually fails me; shutting off inappropriately, randomly decided that its battery is dead immediately after hours of charging and, on more than one occasion, deleting my phonebook, it came up with a new way of pissing me off today.

It has decided to rid itself of its predictive text dictionary. I’m not talking about the words I’ve added myself over the years, such as ‘fuck’, ‘shit’ and apparently ‘Congedo’. Rather, it has decided to dispose of its in-built dictionary, including many simple, frequently used words like ‘and’, ‘would’, ‘they’ and, as far as I can tell, every other fucking word that I could ever desire to use in normal conversation. This, of course, is going to be a complete nightmare when inebriation has finally been achieved.

But enough complaining. I have just been paid £50 cash in hand for around two and a half hours of (as of yet uncompleted) ‘work’. There are certainly worse things I could be doing tonight. I could be lying half-dead in a gutter, bleeding from every orifice while a toothless, homeless man sings me to my final slumber, or worse yet, being forced to watch a marathon of ‘The Big Bang Theory’.

[Insert picture of TV ruiner here]

And there it is, the joke that cost me half an hour of my life. I wish I could say that it was worth it.

Gavin

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