Thank God for facebook. And crazy. Thank God for that too.....

Chinese Whispers.
Now there's a misnomer if ever I heard one.
Anyone who has lived anywhere near the Chinese Culture- as I have for a majority of my life now- will know that the Chinese do not make a habit of whispering ANYTHING and ANYTIME.
And that's all well and good.
Given that my Cantonese extends only as far as that of the level of a 4 year old ( except, of course, that I know more swear words than the average Cantonese toddler....although maybe not) and that my Putonghua contains only the words " How are you?", "Thank you" and "What is this ? This is a pencil ", I usually miss out on the majority of what is being shouted about on the train and in the street anyway.
I have heard via my Chinese friends that a lot of what is discussed in public in Asia is a slightly more graphic version of everyday life anywhere.
High density living makes privacy less of a thing, and I was once reliably informed by one of my canto friends that the man sitting near us on the MTR had found an ointment that cured most, if not all, of the mysterious raised rash on his arsehole and his hemorrhoids were therefore greatly more comfortable.
She then suggested we move along the carriage, but my feeling was, given how much better things were for our travelling companion, we may as well stay.
Of course, in Western Cultures, Chinese Whispers refers to that game whereby you tell a story, or a phrase, or a word, into the ear of one person at the beginning of a line or a circle, and you wait to see what emerges out the other side, several people later.
It's like Mystery Multi Layer Digestion for words.
Sometimes someone will deliberately add something spicy or naughty to enhance the phrase, thus 'penguin' becomes 'penis' and the phrase 'My penguin is black and white and puffs up in the cold' takes on a whole new meaning.
This month I shall leave Hong Kong, and travel to a quieter, calmer place, where I intend to write out all the things that crowd my brain until it empties and I am left with silence.
These words I shall share with people, and with any luck, invoke enough ire to incense some legal action, that will then ensure free publicity, and thus create a best seller.
Or I shall fake some controversy, which will be entirely in keeping with the made up stories I intend to tell.
Of course people will see themselves.
And if they do, it's probably because I am writing about them.
Whatever.
Publishing is all about being heard.
So back to what you've heard.
In the Chinese Whisper game.
Today I heard about four men who, as well as sustaining a certain lack of credibility due to their collective upholding of the Colombian economy, had taken to repeating 'truths' to each other in a kind of demented Class A fueled echo chamber.
Sadly - or perhaps happily depending on how entirely you grasp the whole Oscar Wilde 'only one thing worse than being talked about' thing - their 'truths' are to do with me.
And they are not true.
And they are not kind.
So - being mature and thick skinned-  I have thought about this nastiness all afternoon.
At first, I was going to call one of them.
Then I was going to ignore it.
Then I was going to write one of them a note.
Then I was going to forget about it.
But instead I have decided to do what I will always do in these situations, I shall tell the truth.
No, I never slept with that one, yes, I slept with the other one and his partner, it wasn't very good. It was a long time ago, I have since very much cleaned up my act, thanks, the cream worked nicely.
The third one should know I did all I could to protect him, he backed the wrong horse.
He can't help it.
He's not that bright.
The other one is very bright, but he is also rather damaged.
I like the one in the top hat, and the one with the hands where there should be feet has the most talent.
The one shaped like a small case 'q' should never pick red berries at night.
If I had a US Dollar for every time I was asked if that other one was gay, I'd have a dollar.
Thereabouts.
You see how that works?
A rumour is just that.
Not worth a cent unless it's written on paper and thus turned into a best selling novel.
So I guess, if you want more from me, you'll just have to wait.
And if you want to have a go at me and make it worthwhile, best put it in writing.
Otherwise it's just......puff..... a Chinese Whisper.....

It's True, I Read It On Wiki.

Reputation is a funny thing.
Often a single event defines who we become in the public eye.
A woman who has lived a life wrapped in normalcy for more than 30 years can become 'the girl who got so drunk she vomited on the lap of the guy she was giving a head job to in the pub' in a heartbeat.
She is forever more 'the vomiting head job girl'.
These days with the permanent documentation of the Internet, an unfortunate event or ill advised slip in dignity is there forever to be revisited again and again and again.
The number of times I have warned my three about cameras and sexual acts makes me sound like a woman obsessed.
I KNOW it worked for Paris Hilton and Kim Kardasiarse, but I simply don't want it to work for my own kids.
Ever.
The thing about the Internet too, while I am on it, is that it can be used to create things that are not actually there.
Take Hymie Hasbeen, for example (see previous blog for details).
He has a Wiki page.
It even lists some of his achievements.
In 2013, a Wiki page seems to attach solidity to the unsolid.
If it's online, it must be true.
I now invite you to look away from this blog and explore the things you never thought were possible, online.
Actual pictures of fairies in the garden, women being actually cut in half and magicked together unharmed, stories of John Travolta's heterosexuality.
It's all there.
Being on the Internet does not make something real.
But a reputation created on the Internet seems to be.
Having a public relations firm write a press release filled with achievements and accolades should not be the bases of a mans standing within the community, and yet it has become that.
If Adolf Hitler were alive today, the spin doctors working to justify his behaviour would have us all believing that the destruction of the Jews and the annihilation of freedom was simply the logical next step in evolution.
The mans reputation would have been seared into positive permanence by the workings of the World Wide Web.
I am not criticising the Internet per say, after all how else would I have a platform to vent, merely I am pointing out that a reputation- so easy to create and destroy- should be based on more than a website.
But of course I am pissing into a very strong wind on this one.
Hymie Hasbeen, the man with an ego so brittle parts of it flake off as he walks down the street, will continue to be revered for as long as the management handling his social media profile receive the cheques.
And even when the cheques dry up- an ironic reflection of their client- the permanence of the Internet will ensure that his reputation remains as it was set.
Counter claims to a mans reputation at the street level tend to have little impact until the roar becomes so deafening that it can no longer be ignored.
Jimmy Savile being a case in point.
The interesting point in all this is that it would only require one incident, one tiny little 'caught on camera' moment to alter the structure of a reputation forever.
Wiki pages can be altered too, by anyone who has half a brain and knows how to use the a computer.
So we now find ourselves in a World where we write our own legend with the flick of a wrist, and can have it destroyed by the click of a button.
No wonder we all are developing such short attention spans.