And this is how we die

Posted by Vicki on 02.03.06

It is accepted that Mattel's split between Barbie and Ken was a publicity stunt to generate sales in the face of stiff competition from apparently mutated multi-ethnic Bratz dolls - as was Ken's reinvention as a tanned six-pack wielding surf slacker. It was also a sign of the times as the nuclear family is almost dead and buried, with alternatives springing up almost as quickly as people can make up labels for them, though not before the Catholic Church can condemn them.

Multiple marriages are now increasingly commonplace to the extent that Henry the Eighth is apparently possessing people: Henry's tally of 7 wives no longer seems particularly noteworthy, and as Western diet become overly rich (yet simultaneously undernourished, hence the sight of hugely obese yet malnourished US citizens) even gout is on the increase.

Gradually Henry's once formidable achievements, or at least characteristics of note, are being whittled down to having fathered two particularly blood-thirsty daughters and the sinking of the Mary Rose - the Mary Rose having been built in 1510 only to sink on July 18th 1545 in a mild breeze. Even the Mary Rose can be outdone by the case of the Vasa: commissioned by King Gustavus II Adolphus in his drive to make Sweden a superpower, it sunk on its land launch due to his insistance on a second gun deck on too small a frame. Death toll is an equally easy feat to outdo, if nothing else by giving Dick Cheney a gun and telling him to shoot birds.

Even starting a new religion doesn't set Henry apart anymore, it seems that in the Twenty-First Century anyone can set themselves up as their choice of God's representative on Earth; from the Zeta Cult to Scientology, The Plymouth Brethren to people buying images of Jesus on a waffle, there is now a huge range of increasingly insane people wanting to save your soul - at a price.

Henry is no longer special for being fat, sinking boats, multiple partners, his new religion, nor is he a famous ghost. Instead he is slowly fading into obscurity. Similarly Barbie's fall from grace has been a slow descent from dizzying heights of royalty-like popularity to be disliked by millions for being anorexic, bleach blonde, perma-tanned and completely disposable; her reaction is to stick out her chest and wear even less clothing. Major corporations are in a constant battle for popularity and yet do very little to genuinely change. Increasingly, lip-service is the only sort of service the paying customer will get, as the products of a failing world with no hope and no future read blindly from scripts, knowing they are less than numbers - they are cost cutting measures waiting to be taken.

National magazines run competitions where you can win a boob job for your girlfriend. Politicians resort to dirty tricks on the internet in order to gain votes, and all the while people are told every sort of perfection is possible at a price. Each extortionately priced fad diet/book/film/person thrusts itself forward as the miracle cure to all your problems only to bleed you dry and walk away, not even caring enough to let you crumble.

Orwell was wrong: we don't even have a future to be oppressed in; rejoice and let the nukes fly.