The Next Big Thing

by Rhodri Marsden

  Driving a Colossal Sports Utility Vehicle to Drop the Kids off at School

  Sometimes, bigger is better. An extra bedroom in your home can be useful, a grand piano sounds better than a honky tonk, and you get more of a thrill from a rollercoaster than a swing. But sometimes huge isn’t so good. Brick-like mobile phones. Malignant tumours. And huge cars which are only used for casually zipping about town.

  SUVs are often advertised as being all-terrain vehicles, perfect for embarking on a desert trek in Nambia, or exploring mountainous regions of Chile. And so the criticism they attracted was often based on the fact that these huge vehicles were being required to tackle nothing more tricky than a mini-roundabout at the top of a suburban cul-de-sac: they were simply the wrong vehicle for the wrong job. But many SUVs don’t come with the four-wheel drive that makes them suitable for off-roading, and would be as unsuitable for the jungle as a double-decker bus. So actually, they were just oversized cars. Cars that were statistically shown to be involved in more accidents, posed a greater risk to other road users than smaller cars, and guzzled about four times as much petrol. It wasn’t long before the backlash started from ecologists, road safety experts, people who resented ostentatious displays of wealth, and, finally, politicians (when they realized that there might be a few votes in it). Sales in the UK declined as people realized that their status symbols were becoming stupidity symbols – although many still soldier on, keen to transport their shopping home in a roomy, three-ton air-conditioned box on wheels.

  Ways in which we have danced that would now look somewhat embarrassing

  “Dance like nobody’s watching,” said Mark Twain – although if he’d lived longer than 1910 and had experienced some of the unpleasant free-form shapes that we have thrown in the name of dance from the jazz era through to the present day, he may have revised his advice to something like: “Dance like your father is watching, because there’s no sense in making a fool of yourself.” Of course, there have been people who can’t dance for as long as there have been people who can, but it took the twentieth century to really bring all that arrhythmia out of the woodwork. Before then, dancing in Western culture tended to follow fairly rigid rules about what can and can’t be done, and this resulted in a rather dignified spectacle, if slightly stilted and unenjoyable to participate in. There was the odd exception: for instance, the epidemic of dancing mania that gripped Europe for periods between the fourteenth and eighteenth centuries that involved flailing around as if possessed by Satan until you foamed at the mouth and dropped dead from sheer exhaustion. But among the cultured classes, a stately gavotte or minuet was more the order of the day.

  All hell was let loose, however, at the point where we decided that it didn’t really matter how we danced as long as we enjoyed ourselves. The emergence of dances like the Charleston in the 1920s and the Twist in the late 1950s were notable for a) the steps (such as they were) being incredibly easy to remember, b) not really involving anyone else, so you were unlikely to put your partner off if you were rubbish, and c) being considered provocative by those who’d appointed themselves the moral guardians of that particular generation. Dance has never been solely responsible for any decline in moral standards, but some of the monsters we’ve created over the past century could certainly be classed as inadvisable, verging on inexplicable.

  Take the conga. It started life perfectly innocently: a march that took place during Latin American carnivals where a line of people would gaily shuffle along in time to the music and kick just before the fourth beat in a syncopated, slightly exotic way. It grew in popularity in the USA from the 1930s onwards, but by the time the 1980s hoved into view it had lost any sophistication and was more about a colossal snake of boozed-up people desperately hanging onto the shirts of the person in front while clumsily circling the party venue for no particular reason. Other notable examples of this genre – dances that are less about dance than, er, music and movement – include the compulsion British people have to sit on the floor and pretend to be part of a rowing team whenever “Oops Upside Your Head” by the Gap Band starts playing, and, of course, the unedifying spectacle that suddenly manifests itself in front of a stage containing men with guitars and leather-studded belts: it might well be called “moshing”, but it’s really about everyone pushing everyone else while trying not to fall over.

  Some dances are less about social bonding and more about showing off. When these are attempted by someone with grace, elegance and poise, they can just about work, but it’s disastrous when the rest of us have a go. The limbo dance may well have its own cultural significance in Trinidad, but when Western tourists try, well, it’s just fat people crawling under a stick. Breakdancing can be a thrilling spectacle, but few of us can spin on our heads at a wedding reception and get away with it. Madonna can “vogue” spectacularly, and Michael Jackson can undoubtedly simulate the movement of a robot, but most of the rest of us look like someone with a horrible combination of attention deficit disorder and haemorrhoids. There was less chance of embarrassing oneself in the days when dances came with official guidance, but we can at least hang on to one, small crumb of comfort: we almost certainly have more fun dancing exactly how we like.

  But Surely these can’t Last, Either? The Future

  In moments when you’re feeling particularly world-weary, you could probably make a list a couple of miles long of all the stuff you’d hope would quickly fade away into obscurity. Wet-look leggings. Vitamin water. Grubby bed and breakfasts that advertise themselves as “boutique hotels”. And then there are the things that might have served you quite well and brought some comfort, or entertainment, but you have a nagging feeling that they might be destined for oblivion. Like newspapers. Or capitalism. Here are a few things that our children’s children’s children might look back at in wonder, awe or a sliver of contempt.

  Paying Ridiculously Small Amounts of Money for Sweatshop-produced Clothing

  You can buy a pair of trousers these days for less than the cost of a packet of cigarettes. By the time you’ve deducted shop worker’s wages, storage and transportation you can imagine that the people employed in Far Eastern sweatshops might even be paying for the privilege of knocking up all that ill-fitting sportswear. Of course, we don’t complain about the price – mainly because we’re so far removed from the production process that we probably imagine the clothes are assembling themselves by magic. As the world economy rebalances, brace yourself for the return of kindly British tailors with a tape measure around the neck and the urge to measure your inside leg.

  Teaching the Theory of Intelligent Design in Schools

  Charles Darwin didn’t know everything, but that doesn’t mean Charles Darwin knew nothing. His theory of evolution was compelling enough for it to be accepted by the scientific community, but it never sat very squarely with the fundamental religious view that the universe was put together by some kind of Otherworldly Being. Hence Intelligent Design, a pseudo-scientific way of allowing creationism to be taught in schools; teachers actually stand in front of a class and tell them that the things scientists haven’t managed to get to the bottom of are best explained by magic. Not the best way to educate the next generation of scientists.

  Wearing One’s Trousers so One’s Underpants are Showing

  It’s called “sagging”, it allows men to display their underwear to the general public, and it’s seen as utterly inexplicable by virtually everyone over the age of 35. It stemmed from hip-hop fashion, which in turn (supposedly) stemmed from the banning of belts in prison, which meant that everyone was perpetually pulling up their trousers or just allowing the waist band to descend to somewhere around the mid-thigh – a place it was never designed to loiter. Fortunately, the next generation seems to be rebelling; more than one child has been heard to complain, “Daddy, I can see your pants.”

  Becoming Obsessed with Minute Details of the Lives of Minor Celebrities

  We invest so much time and effort in storing and recalling the relationsh
ip history of some bloke off the telly, including exactly what he has done, where he did it, when he did it and to whom he did it, that it’s a wonder we can even remember our PIN or where we left our car keys. The media outlets which provide this information regularly point out that this tittle-tattle is only what people want to read, that they’re only catering for demand rather than setting the news agenda. They’re probably right. But perhaps, at some point, we’ll realize how badly we’ve been misusing our brains, and devote them to more useful tasks such as solving the Palestinian question instead.

  Expressing Oneself Online with a Strict Limit of 160 Characters

  The length of the humble text message was established as 160 characters back in 1985 when the technology was in its infancy. But with the rise of websites such as Facebook and Twitter – which were designed to work in tandem with mobile phones – this limit has become the standard length for communicating one’s thoughts, and if you go over the limit, you’re brutally cut short. This restriction has severely impeded human communication, forcing us to say things to each other like “i luk lyke i jst cme bk from a party nt getin ready 4 1 lol cnt wait.”

  Trying to Cut Rates of Teenage Pregnancy by Advocating Abstinence

  The drive to have sex and procreate is a pretty strong one. We’re designed that way to ensure the survival of the species, and if it wasn’t for niggling problems like sexually transmitted diseases and the fact that most of us are picky about our sexual partners, we’d be having sex constantly and indiscriminately. But a third of President George W Bush’s HIV budget was directed towards abstinence programmes, in a futile attempt to battle the human impulse. Researchers found that such programmes had no effect on maintaining virginity, use of contraception, incidence of disease, number of pregnancies or number of partners. Whoops.

  Becoming Obsessed with Watching Television Programmes Featuring Normal People doing Nothing of Interest

  There was a time when TV entertainment consisted of reasonably talented people telling jokes, doing magic tricks or singing Frank Sinatra cover versions. But we got bored with that, and developed a fascination for seeing talentless cretins displaying their uselessness for hour upon hour of prime-time viewing in a series of reality shows. Perhaps the point of watching was just to reassure ourselves that we were comparatively intelligent and likeable, but we may as well have turned off the television and just stared at each other instead.

  Using a Mobile Phone that Tries to do Everything but has a Terrible Battery Life

  Modern portable technology presents us with a simple trade-off: either use a simple device that doesn’t allow you to play backgammon, engage in video chat with a distant relative, or film your cat coughing up hairballs, or go for the one that has all the bells and whistles but requires you to carry around a charger and regularly ask people where the nearest electrical socket is. Battery technology hasn’t really caught up – and it’s hard to imagine that it ever will; manufacturers will always pack in unwanted features and leave us carrying around a power-free lump of black plastic.

  Paying Upwards of £50 per Month to Not go to the Gym

  Early January sees the increase in gym memberships soaring as we promise ourselves a brand new start, a new era of fitness, health and doing what’s best for our longevity. But by mid-January, that feeling has been replaced with one of resignation as snacks inevitably make their way from the kitchen into our mouths. We continue to pay the membership fees in the hope that our monthly bank statement will prick our consciences and force us out of the house and onto a treadmill. But it never does. So gyms thrive on guilt, while remaining largely empty.

  Arranging Delivery of Organic Fruit & Vegetable Boxes

  There are many and various reasons for opting to buy organic vegetables over the homogenous, plastic-wrapped stuff you get in the supermarket. But when they’re delivered, they often send you diving for a recipe book or shaking your head in despair. Because nothing hits harder at your reserves of culinary inspiration than the sight of four swedes and a turnip. It’s better for the planet than buying a pineapple that’s been flown several thousand miles, but pineapples are just more appetizing.

  Owning so Many DVDs of Television Series that you couldn’t Possibly have Time to Watch them before you Die

  We’re swamped by media. In bygone times, it used to be the case that if you missed a television series you’d have to wait until it was repeated before you could see it again. Video cassette recorders changed that, but DVDs present us with hour upon hour of footage on a single shiny disc, with umpteen additional features, extras and commentaries. And they’re cheap, so they make good birthday presents. And they amass ominously on our shelves, doomed never to be watched – enough entertainment for several lifetimes, despite the fact that we only have, well, one.

  Making your Avatar Dance in a Virtual Nightclub

  There’s a lot to be said for the Internet’s ability to bring us together, but the rise of virtual worlds is curious; we assume control of an imaginary character, and get it to interact with other people’s imaginary characters. Second Life is probably the strangest example, because it’s not even a game; there’s no point where you can actually say “Yes, I’ve succeeded.” Its virtual nightclubs feature hundreds of avatars in outlandish clothing gyrating spectacularly on an imaginary dancefloor. But surely one life of being rejected by potential dance partners because of your lack of rhythm is enough?

  Balancing a Pair of Shutter Shades on your Nose

  Unless they have no lenses in whatsoever (see Pretending to be Short-sighted) the whole point of spectacles is to make you see better. If you’re short-sighted or long-sighted, they modify the focal length of your eye to bring objects into focus. If it’s sunny, you wear sunglasses to reduce the glare and stop you squinting like a breakdown recovery engineer caught in headlights. Shutter shades, however, are notable for having a series of horizontal bars across the frames, making you feel like (and look like) you’re peering through Venetian blinds. Kanye West is largely responsible for their popularity, and he should be ashamed of himself.

  Wearing Flip-flops when you’re Walking Around a Town or City in the Summer

  Beachwear rarely translates well to the high street. Few of us would parade around town in a bikini, swimming trunks or a sombrero. But the flip-flop – a slab of plastic loosely attached to your foot by a much flimsier strip of plastic – has recently become acceptable summer footwear for both men and women. Your feet get filthy, it’s impossible to move at anything greater than a leisurely stroll, people accidentally step on them and send you crashing head-first through ticket barriers, and – perhaps most importantly – virtually everyone’s feet look hideous.

  Placing All our Faith and Trust in Machines to Make Important Things Work Properly

  “Sorry, the computer isn’t working”, comes the reply when you call your bank, or your electricity supplier, or the local council, or your online grocery store, or your boss, or even your spouse: “I can’t tell you whether we’re free on the twentieth, darling, because I can’t seem to connect to our online calendar.” We’ve become so beholden to technology that we experience minor panic attacks when we realize we’ve left our mobile phone at home, and become irritable if we can’t resolve a dispute in the pub about the cast of Die Hard 2 because the landlord has forgotten the wi-fi password for his router. What have we become?

  Picture Credits

  Inside front cover, Geoff Dann © Dorling Kindersley; 8–9, Jorgen Angel/Redferns/Getty Images; 11, © Dorling Kindersley; 12, © Dorling Kindersley; 14, © Dorling Kindersley; 15, © Dorling Kindersley; 17, © Dorling Kindersley; 21, Andrew Clare; 22, Elliot Elam; 27, Elliot Elam; 29, © Dorling Kindersley; 33, © Dorling Kindersley; 34, © Dorling Kindersley; 36 © Rough Guides Dorling Kindersley; 38, Elliot Elam; 40, © Dorling Kindersley; 43, © Dorling Kindersley; 47, © Dorling Kindersley; 48, Elliot Elam; 54, © Dorling Kindersley; 55, © Dorling Kindersley; 56, © Dorling Kindersley; 58, Elliot Elam; 61, Elliot Elam; 63, © Dorl
ing Kindersley; 65, © Dorling Kindersley; 67, © Dorling Kindersley; 70, © Dorling Kindersley; 72, © Dorling Kindersley; 74, © Dorling Kindersley; 77, © Dorling Kindersley; 81, Elliott Elam; 82, Elliot Elam; 84, © Dorling Kindersley; 85, © Dorling Kindersley; 88, © Dorling Kindersley; 89, © Dorling Kindersley; 92, © Dorling Kindersley; 93, © Dorling Kindersley; 95, © Dorling Kindersley; 99, © Dorling Kindersley; 100, Elliot Elam; 104, © Dorling Kindersley; 106, Elliot Elam; 110, © Dorling Kindersley; 112, squacco, flickr.com/photos/squeakywheel/488494653 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic; 113, © Dorling Kindersley; 116, © Dorling Kindersley; 118, © Dorling Kindersley; 121, Elliot Elam; 123, © Dorling Kindersley; 125, © Dorling Kindersley; 127, Elliot Elam; 130, © Dorling Kindersley; 133, © Dorling Kindersley; 134, © Dorling Kindersley; 137, aprillynn77, flickr.com/photos/aprillynn77/28864027, Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic; 141, Elliot Elam; 143, flattop341, flickr.com/photos/flattop341/228342899, Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic; 144, Elliot Elam; 148, © Dorling Kindersley; 149, Darwin Bell, flickr.com/photos/darwinbell/315051291, Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic; 150, fimoculous, flickr.com/photos/fimoculous/3210330182, Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic; 152, Elliot Elam; 153, © Dorling Kindersley; 155, jason_shipps, flickr.com/photos/jasonshipps/340169500, Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic; 156, kirtpaph, flickr.com/photos/kirtaph/2919026200, Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic; 159, © Dorling Kindersley; 161, cookipediachef, flickr.com/photos/cookipedia/3399540332, Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic; 165, Elliot Elam; 166, © Dorling Kindersley; 169, © Dorling Kindersley; 171, © Dorling Kindersley; 172, © Dorling Kindersley; 176, Nagyman, flickr.com/photos/nagy/19705289, Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic; 178, © Dorling Kindersley; 179, © Dorling Kindersley; 181, Elliot Elam; 183, Elliot Elam; 185, © Dorling Kindersley; 189, © Dorling Kindersley; 198, lizjones112, flickr.com/photos/lizjones/1094586860, Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic; 200, Elliot Elam; 202, Salim Virji, flickr.com/photos/salim/1355763538, Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic.