High-Speed Love

Edited version of the article I wrote for The Canberra Times FEB 2012

Faster. Faster. Quick. Quick. Click. Do it. We live in a high-speed click-on click-off culture where little time is dedicated to thinking things through and a great deal of time is spent making snap decisions and,  as I suspect when flicking through the free to air TV channels mumbling ‘Not that one. Not that one. Nup. Maybe. Nah’, we also dedicate a lot of time to trivial indecision. It seems that we are often faced today with too much choice yet, paradoxically, too little of what we actually want.

Needless to say, romance, love, and commitment are duly processed by the culture into a series of quick click decisions. There is speed dating, sexting, instant text dumping (Iz ova gdby), one-click defriending on Facebook as well as the instant Hook-Up Culture through Tinder. It is a wonder that anyone can actually fit a wedding into such a quick turn-around dating schedule.

The day after Valentine’s Day, however, came as a surprise.  I was shocked to discover that media outlets around the world were publishing lists of Breaking Up songs. Is that it? You get one day of romance now and it’s over. I suspect women around the world anticipate that a roses-and-candlelight romance would extend beyond one day. Or should we embrace the brutal reality of high-turnover relationships and call 15th February Bleeding Hearts Day for all the love victims or something more cynical like POTS Day as in Piss Off  The Sleazer Day.

Rather than seek out a Breaking Up song, perhaps, jilted lovers could just re-engineer the love songs to fit their status. Here are a few suggestions:

I Honestly Love You  by Olivia Newton-John

Maybe I mope around here

A little more than I should

We both know I’ve got nowhere else to go

Because you took my credit card

Then jumped into my much-loved car

And drove off in the after-glow.

I loathe you.

I honestly loathe you.

You Needed Me by Anne Murray

I cried a tear, you watched TV

I was confused, you drank a beer

I sold my soul, so I could pay the rent

When I complained you got all shirty

Somehow you shafted me

You gave me strength to stand alone

To take the world on my own again

You slept in my bed, but you’re a tool

‘Cos then you went and denied all paternity

You shafted me, you shafted me.

Or, perhaps the jilted lover could simply text: Iz ova? 4Q.