Cape Town - At this time of year, the media is awash with Year in Review stories: the best moments; the worst moments; the most poignant photographs; the most pressing issues; the worst socks; the finest restaurants; unknown actresses who became known actresses.
These are handy guides for someone like me, whose memory resembles the dark innards of a Wellington boot. While other people have the ability to catalogue events into definite years, my sense of time is more fluid. The events of 9/11 might well have happened last year and Marikana feels as though it happened nine weeks ago. It’s a good thing I’m not a historian, or a stock broker, or a parent – I’d probably send my 20-year-old son to work with Zoo biscuits and a blankie.
However, 2015 has mapped itself in my mind because it has to have been one of the weirdest, most tumultuous years in recent history.
Syrians were killed by Syrians. Syrians ran away from Syrians and then drowned in the ocean off Europe or were kicked by photographers. Donald Trump threw his flokati hair into the political ring. A pilot purposefully crashed a plane into the Swiss Alps, killing all 150 people on board. Justin Bieber was still a thing. Ebola continued to claim lives in West Africa. Kim Jong-un maintained a very bad hairdo and claimed North Korea had a hydrogen bomb. China disappeared in a pall of smog. Extremists murdered 130 people in Paris. Droughts hit. Floods hit. Black people were killed by police in America. Random people were killed by sociopaths in America. Fifa was sullied by scandal. Athletics was sullied by scandal. Burundi erupted in violence again. Ethiopia approached famine again. Adele made a lot of money from a song about phoning someone. Instagram became a thing. Students in South Africa demanded that fees must fall. Lots of people in South Africa demanded that Zuma must fall. The rand fell and fell and fell.
And I made my first trifle. I forgot the fruit but made up for it with sherry.
On the face of it, doomsday believers could seem justified. “It’s the end of the world!” they shriek. “We’re reaping what we sowed! And when will that Adele lose weight?”
But the world is no longer that simple (and Adele looks bloody marvellous).
While digital media often provides an unnecessary quotient of cat pictures and trifle recipes, it also offers a picture of humanity that augments the seeming mess we are in. Unlike the homogenous propaganda surrounding those other “apocalyptic” eras of world wars, famine, pestilence and plagues, the world is no longer presented as black and white; good or evil. There are shades of grey in between that more accurately represent who we are: a species in transformation, with all the concomitant challenges and upheavals.
And while the online world won’t save us from ourselves – and Justin Bieber will remain a thing until another thing comes along – it provides us with a virtual spirit level that balances out flat pronouncements with counter-narratives, context and warm pockets of humanity.
I recently read an online story about a Syrian refugee who cooks and serves free plates of food to Berlin’s homeless as a way of thanking the German people for their generosity. Earlier this year, I read tweets supporting black victims of police gun violence in the US. I read about people across Europe opening their homes to refugees. I followed online debates about white privilege, education, corruption, media slants, racism, ubuntu and leadership in South Africa. I started following a Liberian doctor on Twitter who provides a compassionate and hopeful picture of Ebola in that country.
I joined an online argument with Trump supporters who are determined to “make America white again”.
Over the past week, I’ve been following British astronaut Tim Peake’s tweets as he embarks on a six-month stay at the International Space Station. His excitement is infectious: video footage shows him grinning like a boy finally fulfilling a childhood dream. But it is his photographs of Earth that are so poignant and breathtaking. From 400km away, our planet is silent, often swirled in cloud – a peaceful and perfect orb; a thing of dreams.
And even though we have maimed it, plundered it and filled it with greed, hatred and ignorance, it is still achingly beautiful, patiently turning on its axis, holding us on its surface.
As we head into another year, these images are the ultimate spirit level: a humbling reminder that in all of our complexity and our relative insignificance, we might just be worth fighting for.
Cape Argus