The PR Blog

Once upon a time, universities were temples of learning....hallowed halls where the pursuit of knowledge trumped everything else. Now?

They’ve morphed into bustling bazaars, hawking degrees like street vendors selling knock-off handbags.

Leading the charge in this academic garage sale are international fee-paying students, the golden geese whose eggs are starting to crack under the weight of greed and shortsightedness. It is fast becoming a comedic tragedy and a modern day fiasco.

Knowledge was once sacred and the faint scent of aged books lingered in the air, a new aroma now dominates: the unmistakable whiff of money. Specifically, international fee-paying student money. It’s the academic equivalent of a sugar rush - lucrative in the short term but disastrous in the long run.

In the 1889-1892 pandemic, the Russian or Asiatic Flu killed more than 1,000,000 people worldwide, and today is thought to have been caused by human coronavirus OC43, so WuFlu was and is nothing new.

Entire cities throughout Europe shut down, including postal services, banks and trains.

Even the Courts were closed, but unlike today Zoom was not available.

Death was rife in London, Paris, Vienna and Berlin.

Members of royalty died, including Queen Victoria’s grandson Prince Albert Victor aged 28, who was second in line to the English throne.

Enter the Carbolic Smoke Ball. 

Imagine the joy of discussing life's great mysteries or the simple art of cooking a chicken with someone you've never met, whose face you've never seen, whose voice you've never heard.

This is the essence of online anonymity, a digital echo of the old-school phone calls with characters like my very own " Chicken Man. "

But now, our governments are stepping in, proposing laws that could censor these very conversations. If they can control our online chats, what's to stop them from listening to our phone calls next?

This move threatens the very fabric of our digital community, where anonymity allows for open and sometimes free-range exchanges.

Let me tell you about one such phone call when I met a free-range Chicken Man before the government wanted to listen in and cook our goose......

The Marshals have moved in. The posses are out in force. The lynch mobs are around every piece of tumbleweed, ambush alley or Acme shed. And by the way, Martial Law is different from Marshal Law.  But in this case, is there much difference these days? 

No one is safe from the hanging tree if you are white, heterosexual, conservative and can still have a laugh.  Hell, even the black conservatives are in the firing line. 

In a world where political correctness tiptoes on eggshells, navigating the fine line between being offended and being offensive has become an art form.   

All I can say is no wonder the chicken crossed the road. She hoped it would be safer on the other side. Only it isn't. Because to get to the other side means you have to cross a highway of laws, hate speech accusations and lawsuits. The poor chicken rarely makes it. And, if she does, she is roasted for giving a cluck. 

Every joke these days is reported to a moderator on social media because someone was offended. It seems to me that to laugh these days, is offensive. 

Aren't we all in a bit of a bind? 

We are in a world of uncertainty. Pain and confusion. We no longer know what is up, what is down and what is reality or what is an illusion.

We are stuck in the middle of so much fear and all we can do is stay quiet and try to be as small as we can possibly be.

After recent events in America and elsewhere, why would we not fear that things are very wrong?

We citizens are stuck in the middle of a global fight and, this time, there are no clowns to the left and jokers to the right.... we have rats everywhere and yes, I am stuck in the middle. Like you. 

Sadly, modern life, with its relentless march of progress, has seemingly put the final nail in small talk's coffin.