A few days ago, the Hunt Saboteurs Association shared an article on Facebook reporting that Michael Eavis had resigned from his position of vice-president of Somerset Wildlife Trust, because of his support for the badger cull, which the Trust opposes.
The article was followed by the usual string of intelligent, well thought out comments, opening up healthy and informative debate on the topic. Here’s a sample:
Any deviations from the standard name-calling included various factual inaccuracies; Eavis is a millionaire, Eavis doesn’t own a herd, Eavis is giving financial support to the cull (if you read the article properly, it actually stated that he was continuing to give financial support to the Wildlife Trust). And so it goes on.
It’s so very easy to jump on the hate wagon, isn’t it? What do any of these people really know about Michael Eavis? Yet their views differ on this one point, so he is judged, condemned and subject to a torrent of online abuse. People really are that stupid. And that really is fucking depressing.
I have been going to Glastonbury Festival since 1986, when as a teenager, in a nightclub in Bath the night before, I arranged a ride with a guy I barely knew. I had no ticket, no tent, no plan. He dropped me outside the site a field or so away, with a friend and a bottle of cider, from where we easily snuck in through the hedgerows. I had one of the most incredible and unique experiences of my life, and have continued to repeat the exercise on a mostly-annual basis for over 30 years. I have become a little more organised and prepared over the years, as has the festival, but it continues to be a very special place to me, one that I love dearly, and that has become an important part of my life.
As such, I have a great deal of admiration and respect for Michael Eavis. He has overcome many obstacles to keep the festival going over all these years, whilst maintaining the same vibe and ethos, and I’ve had the pleasure and privilege of watching it get bigger and better over time. Every year, on the Sunday afternoon, I attend a question and answer session with him in the speaker’s forum; a small marquee tucked away in the festival’s Greenfields area. He is a top bloke, a hero, a living legend.
I don’t agree with his views on the badger cull, but this doesn’t mean I can no longer respect him, admire him, or attend his festival.
Now who might all this remind me of? Is there someone else who I admire and respect, who is often subject to a torrent of mindless online abuse, whose views don’t always concur with my own, and yet who has been a big part of my life, and has provided me with something for which I will always be grateful?
I don’t agree with Morrissey’s political views, but this doesn’t mean I can no longer respect him, admire him, listen to his music, or attend his shows.
I could say more, but you get the general idea.
However, in the spirit of respecting other people’s views, I will also mention that I do sympathise with those who feel they can no longer go to Morrissey’s shows, or even listen to his music. How we respond to Morrissey’s recent declarations, just as how we respond to his music, is a very personal thing. There’s no right or wrong response. So if you feel you need to leave, that’s up to you, I respect that.
And it would be nice if, in return, you could respect my choice to stay. So if you say you’re finished with Morrissey, then please do just that; finish. Do not hang around in Morrissey communities on social media banging your drum, and spreading hate and bitterness. Don’t be a child. Leave, get over it, and above all, move on. If not for the rest of us, then for yourself.
“People have an urgent need to express their … well, it isn’t disapproval, it’s hatred… like drivers giving you the middle-finger as they speed off at 100mph. If they didn’t have such a quick getaway they wouldn’t do it. It seems to be the number one human emotion now … social media shaming.” Morrissey
Adventures of a middle-aged Morrissey fan 