Having spent a year learning the ins and out of the EU and composing intricate presentations on ‘the rural space” in France, it’s no wonder I’ve so keenly returned to the welcoming, interesting fold of a history degree.
The latest substance to come under my historical radar is Ritalin, or “kiddie cocaine” as it’s been nicknamed by some commentators. To be honest, I’m still a bit in shock about this one. A whopping 3 to 7 per cent of American children have been identified as being treated with Ritalin, equating to roughly about 2-5 million children who are on medication to keep their behaviour conforming to social standards. Ritalin is most commonly associated with the disorder it treats which ADHD, or Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, which can be identified in both children and adults in symptoms such as inattentiveness or impulsivity. Basically, if you don’t behave well enough in school, it’s reason enough to be sent to the doctor and filled up with pills.
What’s more, if you’re a boy you’re four times more likely to be diagnosed with it than your four year old female counterpart, most likely because you prefer crashing toy trucks and banging dinosaurs than playing tea parties and princesses. Bless them. No wonder some critics are naming the Ritalin phenomenon “the medicalisation of boyhood”.
Jizzing over my course, done. It’s onto the good stuff. As a seminar group we’re actively encouraged to find and bring music relating to whatever subject our topic touches on each week, such as Clapton’s Cocaine a few months ago or the banging Ebenezer Goode to celebrate the amphetamine movement (blogged previously, find it in the archives). Last week I typed, with some trepidation, Ritalin, and then ADHD into YouTube’s search engine, and was pleasantly surprised with the results the latter search threw up.
In the light of my reading, I’m not sure if Samsaya, an Indian-Norwegain pop princess, is an absolute genius or slightly insensitive in taking the next step in glamourising medical disorders. I’m wracking my brain to think of any other comparable musical ditty which has sexed up a biological psychiatric problem in such a way. If you think of any, do let me know.
(P to the S – skip the irrelevant first thirty seconds.)
On first look, you’d be forgiven for thinking you’d stumbled across a Saturdays videos or some such. I think the visual aim is trying to replicate the chaos that can cloud an ADHD individual, shown here in the ker-azy make up clumping the dancers’ faces, the plates of cake and the conveniently placed small man. I'm not surprised she's displaying all the ADHD signs when she's clearly off her face with the hoardes of E numbers avaliable.
However, it’s the lyrics which tickle me the most. The general gist seems to be a bizarre melange of her appreciation of her own mental disorder slash telling some poor random bloke its never going to happen because of the ADHD; “the next curve and we’re through”. Overall it seems to be an apt summary of ADHD “See them talking so I act like I’m listening/Feeling strange like I know something’s missing/Day in day out I feel my mood slipping/On a fast track of constantly tripping.”
Signing off with the resonating “ADHD, I love you” pretty much sums up this whole extravaganza. Brilliant.
And finally, and because it’s Sunday, and because I can’t get enough, here’s more of the delectable Ellie Goulding with a lullaby to herald end-of-week sleeps.
© Miranda Thompson 2010
DISCLAIMER: The video links hosted on my blog are not being presented as my own. If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blo
No comments:
Post a Comment