"You can't handle the fruit" is a popular corruption of Jack Nicholson's climactic outburst in the movie A Few Good Men. Unless you're into exotic cocktails, this comedic twist might invite a more sober interpretation. Because there are still a few good men (and women) out there who will tell you that truth is fruit in the making and our endless capacity for self-delusion is our undoing. Strangely enough, these cold realists are no strangers to fuzzy feelings, fertile imaginations and divine inspirations. They will remind you, however, that when such imponderables bear fruit, hard truths are being confronted somewhere down the line.
Of course, when things go pear-shaped for want of a timely reality check, we can all be wise after the event — but not so wise as to avert repeat performances when the lessons are long forgotten. Life goes on and our critical faculties are dulled by the verifiable fact that these bouts of insanity usually fizzle out without obliterating our species. Yet even when we are at our most cynical and most deluded, we still have this uncanny ability to anticipate hard truths with more immediate reverberations. It may be as simple as securing our next paycheck, our next meal, or our next escape from reality. Indeed, this can lead to a situation where we care so much about the "truth" that we lose all sight of reality. Sadly, this most dogged expression of human frailty extends far beyond the necessities of survival. In fact, some would say it has come to define a whole new generation.
It is a mark of a progressive society that we can look beyond our narrow, short-term interests once in a while and face up to unpalatable truths before they get too unpalatable. Since that doesn't happen automatically, we need "a few good men and women" about the place to nag the hell out of us before a deteriorating situation slips completely from our grasp. If honesty has a strong whiff of naivety, we could do worse than to listen to our children when they are still childish enough to see through our childishness. Many self-described adults will have been brought to their senses by a masterclass in clarity from such an unlikely source. But many more will have forfeited such opportunities by fobbing off their pesky inquisitors with the ultimate pearl of feigned wisdom: "you'll understand when you're a bit older".
Here we have an innocent example of our traditional reliance on stock phrases and lazy clichés to wriggle out of awkward situations. Of course, "awkward" in this case is just another euphemism for unpalatable truths. The awkwardness can arise out of a creditable desire not to offend or — more likely — a not-so-creditable desire to evade responsibility. Either way, this is no longer the sparingly-used escape hatch of the great unwashed who were not inclined to mince their words at the coalface of reality — only their unsullied masters had that luxury. But if the white-man gave legitimacy to the forked tongue, mass communications opened the floodgates and the Internet has continued to push the boundaries of sophistry and incoherence. If that wasn't distressing enough, the arrival of smartphones and social media has reduced us to a cacophony of auto-responders and meme monkeys.
Of course, when things go pear-shaped for want of a timely reality check, we can all be wise after the event — but not so wise as to avert repeat performances when the lessons are long forgotten. Life goes on and our critical faculties are dulled by the verifiable fact that these bouts of insanity usually fizzle out without obliterating our species. Yet even when we are at our most cynical and most deluded, we still have this uncanny ability to anticipate hard truths with more immediate reverberations. It may be as simple as securing our next paycheck, our next meal, or our next escape from reality. Indeed, this can lead to a situation where we care so much about the "truth" that we lose all sight of reality. Sadly, this most dogged expression of human frailty extends far beyond the necessities of survival. In fact, some would say it has come to define a whole new generation.
It is a mark of a progressive society that we can look beyond our narrow, short-term interests once in a while and face up to unpalatable truths before they get too unpalatable. Since that doesn't happen automatically, we need "a few good men and women" about the place to nag the hell out of us before a deteriorating situation slips completely from our grasp. If honesty has a strong whiff of naivety, we could do worse than to listen to our children when they are still childish enough to see through our childishness. Many self-described adults will have been brought to their senses by a masterclass in clarity from such an unlikely source. But many more will have forfeited such opportunities by fobbing off their pesky inquisitors with the ultimate pearl of feigned wisdom: "you'll understand when you're a bit older".
Here we have an innocent example of our traditional reliance on stock phrases and lazy clichés to wriggle out of awkward situations. Of course, "awkward" in this case is just another euphemism for unpalatable truths. The awkwardness can arise out of a creditable desire not to offend or — more likely — a not-so-creditable desire to evade responsibility. Either way, this is no longer the sparingly-used escape hatch of the great unwashed who were not inclined to mince their words at the coalface of reality — only their unsullied masters had that luxury. But if the white-man gave legitimacy to the forked tongue, mass communications opened the floodgates and the Internet has continued to push the boundaries of sophistry and incoherence. If that wasn't distressing enough, the arrival of smartphones and social media has reduced us to a cacophony of auto-responders and meme monkeys.
In case you haven't noticed, our repertoire of fluffy-speak is growing like there is no tomorrow and seeping into the vernacular like a virulent disease. This is already affecting our ability to conduct our affairs with the efficiency, fairness and accountability one might reasonably expect from a so-called "progressive" society. But, for me, it is the most accurate barometer of our deteriorating relationship with the truth and the shock therapy that is sure to follow.
This brings me to another truthy-fruity corruption, namely, the newly-minted tagline of my humble blog. This is no small matter in a superficial world where taglines are just another symptom of our descent into mediocrity.Unvarnished Fruit is less a statement of intent than a guiding light as I commit to posterity my thoughts on technology and society, apparently in the nick of time for the end of history. To hammer home the point, I have appropriated Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio's decaying Basket of Fruit as my inspiration.
So the next time you sink your teeth into a shiny unblemished apple of dubious lineage, spare a thought for the hard-headed realists in our midst; because they are far more caring than you could possibly imagine. They are the ones who sweat our problems so the rest of us can have our cake and eat it; they are the ones who get nothing but abuse for their efforts; and they are the ones we finally turn to when we have nowhere else to turn.