A modest proposal: we should ban satire. While it may once have been a valuable form of subversion, satire is useless in an age where fake news is rife and Donald Trump is on a mission to erode trust in the press by slapping the label on to the mainstream media. In a world of misinformation and ideological echo chambers, satire is ineffectual at best and irresponsible at worst. If we really want satire to benefit the public – and, as Daniel Defoe said, “the end of satire is reformation” – the sensible thing to do would be to cook satirists up and serve them as ragout.
Obviously, I jest. It would be ridiculous to suggest we eat satirists. First of all, they aren’t gluten-free. Second, it’s Veganuary. Actually, I’m only half joking. While I’m a big proponent of satire, I’m increasingly worried that a lot of what purports to be satire these days is counterproductive.
Take, for example, the “Photoshop parody”, a modern subgenre of satire. This is when people create “hilarious” mock-ups of book extracts, articles, or official documents and share them on social media. Last Friday, for instance, the magazine InTouch published the full text of a 2011 interview with porn star Stormy Daniels about her affair with Trump. This generated a lot of press and a lot of parodies. One tweet, which went semi-viral, included a fake screenshot of a supposed segment from the interview, which stated Trump had called room service and ordered a pizza with mini pizzas on it before explaining to Daniels that their imminent intercourse would feel like a pizza with tiny pizzas on top.
I know – it sounds ridiculous. How could anyone believe that happened? Well, quite easily. This is Trump we’re talking about, after all; nothing is beyond the realm of possibility. And, if you look at the reactions to the tweet, a lot of people clearly thought it was real. Indeed, a friend of mine texted me the tweet believing it to be genuine.
My friend should have known better. But a lot of people who should know better – people whose job it is to know better – have been taken in by Photoshop parodies. Earlier this month, the cartoonist Ben Ward, who tweets from the account @PixelatedBoat, shared a supposed excerpt from Michael Wolff’s White House exposé. It said that Trump’s aides had created a “gorilla channel” so that the TV-loving president could watch gorillas fighting – sometimes for 17 hours straight.
A depressing number of people seemed to fall for the joke. It was retweeted more than 26,500 times and liked more than 88,000 times, and many of them took it seriously – including Eric Garland, a self-described “strategic intelligence analyst for corporations and governments” with 171,000 Twitter followers. And MSNBC contributor Scott Dworkin shared the tweet – though he later, defensively, said that he absolutely did not “get fooled” into tweeting it.
The gorilla channel and the tiny pizza parodies were funny. But I’m not sure they were useful – and satire has to be useful, doesn’t it? Otherwise, it’s just pointless silliness. Indeed, if anything the jokes did more harm than good. The reaction to the gorilla channel, for example, played right into Trump’s narrative that he is a victim of “fake news”: Fox News immediately used it as proof of how easily “Trump trashers” were fooled by any negative reports of the president.
There is still, and there will always be, a place – and a need – for satire. But I think we desperately need a conversation about what constitutes satire in today’s media landscape. Are Photoshopped parodies satire or just a cheap way to get retweets? I have a feeling they may be the latter.
China is right to ban tattoos from TV – it’s time our ink obsession ended
Tattoos are now taboo on Chinese television: it has been reported that Chinese censors have clamped down on “tasteless, vulgar and obscene” on-screen content including hip-hop culture and actors with tattoos.
When it comes to tattoos, I reckon these Chinese regulators have a point. Particularly when you consider how many westerners sport terrible Chinese-character tattoos. It’s not that I have anything against tattoos – I’m just bored with them. After all, they’re everywhere: nearly 40% of people in the US born after 1980 have a tattoo, according to the Pew Research Center. As someone who has never had an urge to ink my skin, I’m starting to feel like an increasingly misunderstood minority.
Also, I think we have just reached the time for the tat trend to end. After all, fashion tends to go full circle and tattoos are no exception. Just look at their trajectory. Tattoos used to be super-posh: a Country Life article from 1900, for example, details the wealthy “country gentlemen” clientele of Sutherland Macdonald, Britain’s first professional tattoo artist. These include “one of the most popular masters of foxhounds in England”, who, apparently, had an illustration reading “Tally ho!” on his forearm. Then, tattoos became synonymous with subversion. It wasn’t until the late 90s that tattoos became posh again. I haven’t got official data on how many affluent adolescents got tribal sleeves during their gap years in south-east Asia in the 00s, but I bet the numbers are statistically significant.
Tattoos have now become so mainstream it seems improbable that they can stay fashionable for much longer. No, mark my words, the writing is on the wall for tattoos. Which is a better place for writing to be than on your lower back.
Since when did planes become zoos?
Flying domestically on a US airline has become a zoo-like experience. I mean that literally; it’s ridiculously easy to register your pet as an “emotional support animal” in the US, which means you can take advantage of regulations allowing support animals to fly free. While dogs are the most common air buds, a recent Delta statement notes: “Customers have attempted to fly with comfort turkeys, gliding possums … snakes, spiders and more.” But thanks to a recent increase in “animal incidents” Delta is now cracking down on the pets it allows in its cabins – an attempt, perhaps, to make cattle-class more humane.
• Arwa Mahdawi is a Guardian columnist
