Now whilst I used that headline to get your attention, I’m no more fearful of a homosexual as any hetrosexual person. Homo is greek for ’same’ - What I’m getting at is that I’m afraid of everything becoming the same.

On the topic of globalization and racial diversity the great philosopher Russell Peters says “the future will be beige”.

We’re already deep in what has become known, for lack of a better term, as the postmodern milieu of arts and culture where everything is a mashup or rendition of something existing in just a different style. My fear is that will become the norm and no one will aspire to something new without it being a cheap gimmick.

As much as I’ve enjoyed Baz Lurhmann’s films something about them deeply troubles me as they’ve really become the posterchild of new era of cinema, where the film that you make is merely just a series of riffs on previous cultural treasures. Moulin Rouge was no more than a mix tape of some of the most beloved songs of the last century set in the auspices of bohemian France. Or take another film that I greatly enjoyed of the last decade, The Matrix, which was very much just melding a series of concepts from many religions, with clear links to popular dystopian sci-fi (notably Ghost in the Shell) and threading them into a new story. (The prevalence of a dystopian future in much of our recent futurism will have to be a rant for a future post.) The films of the first half of last century that we now celebrate were not merely attempts to translate theatre to the screen but genuine efforts to utilize this new platform to communicate in the most engaging way.

Now I know that there is “nothing new under the Sun”. Nor can one ever create something that is truly original but it’s my contention that globally we are referencing each other more recently and faster than ever before that we end up having a more common experience than ever before but without feeling the connection that comes with experiencing it together. As I’ve travelled around this planet I’ve been amazingly surprised as to how much kids have a common experience of life across many different cultures. I can quote the Simpsons as if it were some sacred text of global childhood. There’s a McDonalds, Subway and Sushi joint (ok of varying quality) in every mall and juncture. Greater commonality yet reduced unity through greater individuality.

All of this leads to grieve me as I consider the future of our youth and creativity. As I sit here in Asia which is fast becoming the contemporary experience of life, with masses of tall buildings and shopping malls to spare, children here have no understanding of what it means to toil over creation. Everything that is built around here is done so by aliens to their city who like the goods that fill the buildings they construct are shipped in and out. All that the young are left with is a bunch of predefined products that they can mix and match into a persona they can wear one day and then trade for another the next. Their music is merely a new take on something old and cut and polished in record time with no depth of understanding spent in it’s musical craft or lyrical texture. It seems so sad that tomorrows celebrated ‘masterpieces’ will not be done by someone who’s spent the time to master anything nor will it be more than a piece scribbled on a wall, to be photographed endlessly by passersby and recut into something else.

It’s not that we did it better when I was young because we were just beginning to do all of this then, what I long for is the love for craft to be re-established and the return of an appreciation for diversity that takes a long time to manufacture. I guess we may need to unplug ourselves from the global entertainment-centric village and listen to the the screams of a mother in childbirth, cries of babies, the withering breaths of a soon to pass elder and see the pain of this world with sober eyes to understand that we are but a flower that opens for but a moment, so we should pursue creation of something majestic in honour of that beyond our self. But then again, since when did someone ever know flowers don’t bloom year round anymore…