Skip to main content

The ego is not master in its own house.


Here is Jen and Ezra, looking for a wayward Henry in an artistic display that featured at Salamanca's Long Gallery through January. I know that it looks like a nightclub, but Ezra doesn't like them, he thinks that they are "common". That ultraviolet light was a little disconcerting, I'll grant you that.

And there is my crude segue for the day!

For some reason, the local news media outlets have taken a shine to me of late, and I can now expect the phone to ring whenever someone has got something controversial to debate (when you're talking drugs and alcohol, it's always controversial).

Being an arrogant kind of guy, and not lacking in confidence to express and opinion or argue a point, I'm always happy to oblige them.

Yet seeing yourself or hearing yourself on the news is a very disconcerting experience. Predictably, my default news-watching setting is "who is this moron and why am I supposed to care what they think?"

You would think that I would think differently about myself, but the reality is that the 'I'm not sure how old they are' talking head or overly nasally voice does not generally strike me as me. Rather, he seems to be just another know-nothing know it all that parade on the nightly news throughout the week.

So when I see this fancy Dan with those come-to-bed eyes, or hear that fellow with the poor man's FM "hits 'n memories" radio announcer voice spouting what seems to be far too pithy an answer for such a complex issue, there is a disconnect with the memory of a confident statement on a tricky, convoluted and, inevitably, controversial issue. Indeed, the subtle nuances that capture the subtext and extrapolate poetically on whatever it is that I've been called upon to crap on about seem absent. Anyway, I'm far younger/funkier/cruder/rugged/sexier/swarthier etc etc...

Thus I am left to consider this dislocation between the Me that I know because I am Me, and the Me that I see through these other mediums that for all intents and purposes is me, but you know, it just doesn't feel like me.

What I want to know is whether it is just Me, or whether other Mes feel the same way when confronted with the likenesses in this way?

Comments

smudgeon said…
This is confusing for me.

I often see the back of my head on any news feature regarding computers in TAFE/UTas, as I was filmed for stock footage about 7 years ago. It feels less & less like me over time. However, the back of my head isn't saying much, so this little story is only tenuously related to the topic.

Carry on.
Kitty said…
wha?
were you on tv? I don't get it.

that'd be cool if you were on tv, I guess? I dunno.
please explain!
Anonymous said…
a guess- it's because you don't recognise yourself in that role, for you, this current work role is not you.

(leave the money on the fridge.)
Tash said…
It is always about me, even if it doesn't feel/seem/look to be me. Can we see your me clip on YouTube?
As long as it's not meaningless ;)
Very cool color on the picture. It didn't make me feel like a nightclub - too artsy. & where is the older Mini-me?
Unknown said…
I love the photo, it is odd... it does not strike me as a nightclub though.

You should always be true to yourself, however know that me will always evolve and change as time goes on... but never lose sight on who you really are.
USelaine said…
My only experience was with being quoted in the newspaper, and "blurbed" on the radio. It's an eye opener when you realize that most people must be quoted wrongly or out of context, not just yourself. And if you aren't used to hearing your own voice recorded, that can be weird. I think the more you do it, the more used to it you get. I've done recordings for Librivox, so that got me past the sound-of-my-voice thing anyway.

As for what you express, well, you're on your own. If you become too circumspect, you'll be one of those guys who seems to be hiding something...
There are presently only three Me's in you: Kris, Henry and Ezra. Jen is the only You part of your Me part and viceversa. When the two Me parts grow you remain with the only Me-part left: Kris. But you seem to be very able to cope with that Me part, so I would not worry if I were you!!
blackie said…
Ugh. That Me has funny teeth and a squeaky voice. I never want to see her again.
Kris McCracken said…
Me, it's Me, isn't it?
Kris McCracken said…
Kitty, well this last one was radio. But TV as well. The point is though that the Me on the TV does not strike me as the Me that I think myself as.

Does that make sense?
Kris McCracken said…
Hallam, the depressing thing is that I do see this part of work role as me, because it's just about using evidence to justify policy responses.

Unfortunately, it will no doubt revert back to the situation where you had the hottest public debate in years (alcohol), and the sector ‘leader’ wasn’t spotted once in 9 months. Given that I’ve done 20 spots in a month with not a huge amount of effort expended, that is kind of sad.
Kris McCracken said…
Tash, no YouTube delights, because I have studiously avoided alerting my brother any upcoming appearances and having him mock me.

Henry had taken off out of the building, and Jen and Ez were rushing off after him. That’s why I didn’t have time to get a better shot than this one.
Kris McCracken said…
Uncertainhorizon, well, I’ve not said anything that I don’t believe is backed by the evidence, or indeed [deep voice] “sound common sense evenly applied”.
Kris McCracken said…
Elaine, the newspaper has generally been worse in this regard. They quote you pretty much correctly, but they are forever playing the negative angle. So you speak to them and answer a question about a particular government action, ie: “is this the right way to respond to this issue?”, and they print your response as “well it won’t work on its own, it has to be done in conjunction with this and this”, and neglect to add that you said “and of course, they are already doing this and this, and for that we have to congratulate them”.
Kris McCracken said…
Blognote, now I’m confused. I hope that I don’t regress back to the terrible twos!
Kris McCracken said…
Blackie, I spotted some grey hairs on the telly. That was frightening. I’m only 31!
USelaine said…
That's just it! They slice and dice, and the only time we catch it is when WE are the ones that talked to them. When I read someone else's quotes, how can I ever be sure that they really communicated what the paper says they did?

I had a long recorded interview with a radio reporter, then heard back selected answers over the air, WITH DIFFERENT QUESTIONS tacked on to my responses! That should be illegal.
Kris McCracken said…
Elaine, it certainly is unethical, and it goes against their code of practice, but that is self policed, so you can guess how often often that any complaints of this nature are upheld. Even if they are, they’re not widely publicised, nor are the consequences particularly severe for individual journalists/editors/managers/media magnates.

Popular posts from this blog

If you want to be loved, be lovable.

Henry admires the view.

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral

Zeal, n. A certain nervous disorder afflicting the young and inexperienced. A passion that goeth before a sprawl.

Here I have tried my hand at the homemade sepia-toned photo. I wasn’t happy with the way that the sun had washed out some of the colours in the original, so had a bit of a fiddle because I like the look on Henry’s face, and didn’t want to pass on posting it. I have a tip for those of you burdened with the great, unceasing weight of parenthood. I have a new recipe, in the vein of the quick microwaved chocolate cake . Get this, microwaved potato chips . I gave them a run on Sunday, Henry liked the so much I did it again last night. Tonight, I shall be experimenting with sweet potato. I think that the ground is open for me to exploit opportunities in the swede, turnip, carrot and maybe even explore in the area of pumpkins. Radical, I know. I’m a boundary-pusher by nature. It's pretty simple, take the potato. Slice it thinly (it doesn't have to be too thin, but thin enough). Lay the slices on the microwave plate, whack a bit of salt over the top and nuke the buggers for five minut