is the fact that always there is someone smarter and therefore more powerful than you. I remember recently ending a lengthy and complex relationship I had with Facebook mainly because of the overwhelmingly unreal atmosphere that pervades that medium of social interaction. It was addictive, exhausting, a realm for self promotion and bragging and ego driven arguments that lead nowhere, a place for product advertisement and sales and keeping in touch (a great strength of Facebook BTW), a vast fruitful data harvesting source for advertising, a system extensively monitored not only by Facebook employees, but also by the NSA, police and security services.  According to act.watchdog.net, a service I occasionally get emails from:

“ Facebook has been monitoring, tracking and interpreting our unposted notes, comments and statuses this entire time, using even what we don’t say as metadata to pass on to spy agencies like the NSA or advertisers from Groupon to Mastercard.

Choosing not to share is supposed to be what little still protects us from governments and corporations that can hack our emails, bug our phones and turn on our webcams without our knowledge”

The fact that billions of people use it really isn’t an argument for it being a good idea. What was once an excellent place for keeping in touch and exchanging information and discussion is now more a place to analyse statistics, study markets, develop social media plans and strategize – all masquerading as a place to meet people meaningfully. I have no idea why email is suddenly unfashionable or regarded as a tad passé.

Speaking of power and its uses, I have been reading a lot about Leon Trotsky lately – Robert Service’s biography is wooden at times but still a compelling read. Another guy much smarter than me.  A brilliant mind and a brilliant writer, also a ruthless character. Someone who could destroy one in an argument (he referred to Stalin once as a ‘dull grey nonentity’) – a Chris Hitchens without all the the alcohol and smoking and extreme rightward drift.

Generally speaking most literary artists, be they poets or writers of fiction or playwrights, tend towards having, for various reasons that are well established, enormous egos and diva-esque complexes. on the positive side they also are sincere people with passionately held beliefs about how things might be changed for the better for humanity, the incredible suffering of humanity or animals or poverty or the endless injustices that we call ordinary life, (which is really not so ordinary at all). Most of them wisely channel their passions and their beliefs into their work without making the disastrous choice of turning superb writing into propaganda for one political viewpoint. It’s interesting to reflect that of those who do turn to politics, few if any of them have made any real change by involving themselves in any form of party politics, by writing political tracts, or indeed, involving themselves directly in door to door political activity, attending meeting, working on campaigns, writing policy and speeches. Writers are too idealistic; it’s why they tend towards cynicism. They are also too cerebral by and large to have good political instincts, especially regarding people, and finally, if they do give their minds and hearts to politics, they aren’t really writers any more. They are political activists or politicians. My aforementioned Trotsky is more known as a political activist and thinker than a literary artist, gifts he had in abundance. It’s an inescapable fact that while remaining deeply and passionately attuned to the world as it actually is; artists need to keep a distance from politics to do art. When they do turn to politics, their work in these parties, or campaigns tends to embitter them, mostly due to the fact that whatever campaign they are involved in are usually corrupt or corrupting, involves the inevitable betrayal of core beliefs, or worse, involves the ruthless use of the talents of those working for the good of the cause in order that an elite few can actually get into power. Embitterment, disillusionment usually follows these people afterwards. I can remember my own bitter experiences of being deeply involved in the Catholic Church (a very political institution), how young men (in my case) were deluded into thinking they were sacrificing for the good, that the ludicrous belief systems and doctrines of the church were really and actually divine revelations, and that one will get ones just reward in the afterlife. This is not so different to the poets and writers down through history, from Wordsworth’s unhappy experiences in France, to Coleridge’s experiments in alternate lifestyles to Shelley’s bizarre political communal living, all striving to find an outlet for their deeply held passionate idealisms for a better world. But it never works. Whatever the poetic style or literary inclination, particularly when younger, a writer tends to be used by politicians, abused and when no longer useful, thrown away by those wiser and older than them to give their campaign a certain credibility and honour even. It’s a mark of distinction if you have a gifted poet or writer on your ticket as a staffer or as a speech writer or as an editor. Your speeches are better for it, your publicity excellent, and there is an endless pool of creativity for you to draw from, so long as the artist you have working for you continues to believe in your particular credos. The trouble starts when the writer begins to see through the bullshit. Then the political party is in real trouble. Writers tend not to forget, and history is replete with top notch novels and plays and poems and stories by writers who were lied to and had their ideals betrayed. Politicians beware: If you are lucky enough to have an artist on your staff, do not betray your writers. You may live to regret it.