Am I back? Probably not.

It’s been ages since I put something on this. Not sure why I’ve suddenly been moved to do something now. Sometimes when I used to do this I had tons of things to write about, usually all about people and things that annoyed me. Sometimes I didn’t have so much to write about and so I found myself looking around for things to write about just so there was a new update once or twice a month. And the whole thing became just a moan and I think it started to contribute to the way I started to feel more and more down.

So I had a choice. Either stop doing it or find more positivity to write about. Hence the last entry, all that time ago, about how the discovery of Japanese female-fronted rock and metal helped me through the worst parts of the first few years of the pandemic (no, I won’t be referring to it in the past tense, it’s still ongoing). But then I had to try to think of something more positive to write about.

Everything that lifts my mood is not likely to be of interest to anyone, so what’s the point? I guess I could pick up the film review site I also used to do. Truth is, there isn’t much I feel hopeful about at the moment. No bright future, no change gonna come. I think we’ve been on the worst timeline since 2016 or so and I think the descent is going to continue for the foreseeable.

I could rant about injustice I guess, a bit like I used to (that’s why I named the blog what I named it, after all), but I’m not really sure it makes me feel any better in the end. I know it used to, and then it didn’t. So I guess, maybe I’ll pick this up again. But then again, maybe I won’t. Bet you missed these riveting reads, didn’t you?

Up is down.

I wrote this before the awful murder of David Amess, so have been sitting on it for a bit wondering if I’m being unreasonable. But watching some quarters attempt to use such a tragedy to supress genuine criticism of those (on both sides of the political divide) whose actions are leading to the enrichment of themselves and their donors and the ruination of so many other things made me think that actually, I’m not being unreasonable to expect a certain level of decency and care, and not for it to be okay for companies owned by overseas interests to dump raw sewage into our watercourses in the interests of their shareholders (yes, I know there's supposedly been a U-turn. We'll see.) So, I published it anyway:

Get back to work. Playtime’s over. Everyone knows that we’ve just been dossing off during the pandemic. Working from home? Give me a break. They worked from the office in the ‘40s with bombs raining down like explosive confetti (except, they didn’t; they very sensibly hid when the bombs actually fell). What do you mean the war wasn’t contagious? What’s that got to do with it? What do you mean they didn’t have home computers or wi-fi? Things have changed you say? Progress you say? Progress isn’t for the likes of you milado. Progress is the problem, it’s why you lot go around thinking you should be free to be who you feel you are. Get back in the boxes we’ve always put you in. Too many minorities these days.

Get back in the office. No you’re not going to be paid more. You should be grateful to spend your time and money on commuting, parking and lunch instead of doing your work from home. Unless you’re a woman. Then you can stay at home and do caring, cooking and housework. Like in the good old days. Care begins at home donchano, and with three-quarters of people on Carer’s Allowance being women, we can force women to do more of that at-home stuff they always used to. Win-win!

Never mind that the last couple of years has been such a strain on the wellbeing of the majority of the population; we pay lip service to your mental health and that should be enough. Anyway, the best thing for mental health is to work, work, work. Work unto death; it’s the future! Look; even the opposition agrees. When you felt mildly hopeful for the chance of a better world when you were younger, you were just being naïve. Childish. It’s time to grow up and get back to work.

Just look at me. Born rich. Inherited wealth. Funnelled into investments and offshore so I don’t ever have to pay fair taxes; to, shudder to think, contribute. That’s for you to do. Work and pay tax. Not my fault you weren’t born rich. We’re all in this together you know. The same storm, that is, not the same boat. I’ve got a yacht.

At least you’ve got a boat. Or a dinghy. It’s more than some should have. Migrants? Shirkers. They don’t deserve a boat. Send the boats back. Not our fault if they drown – I promise you’ll face no legal consequences for letting people drown. If I had my way, I’d chuck you in the slammer for savin’ ‘em. Up is down, you know? Let Europe have them. Isn’t Europe safe enough? What do you mean most of them probably speak English as a second or third language and not other European languages, so it stands to reason they might feel more comfortable here? Don’t they know they speak English in Europe too? Even though it’s usually in a funny accent. Let Europe have them. Many European countries already take in loads more than we do? We don’t take our fair share of refugees? So what? We’re closed. Too many as it is. Of course, nobody to drive the lorries, or work in the hospitals, or pick the fruit. Still, good to know we’ve taken back control of all that rotten fruit eh? Makes you all misty eyed to see all that control of failing supply chains, and those farming and fishing industries that have been decimated. At least they’ve been decimated on our terms, yeah? Makes you feel proper patriotic it does.

Anyway, get back to work. Up is down. Wrong is right. Freedom is slavery, and the future of humanity, to borrow from Mr Orwell, is a boot stamping on a human face forever. ‘Cos I’m the boot and you’re the face, so I’ll never let you get even.

Occasional feature: Ending with a song loosely related to the post (or more like a lyric I can take out of context and loosely relate to the post):

Arcade Fire: My Body is a Cage – “I’m living in an age, that calls darkness light.”

Still they do nothing.

About a fortnight or so ago, the latest Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) report was published. It reports that there are visible signs of climate change all over the globe and that those effects will continue to intensify. It noted that without immediate massive change to reduce carbon emissions everywhere, there isn’t any chance to prevent the climate warming by more than 1.5C. Doesn’t sound like much does it, but in actuality, it means catastrophe on a global scale.

It made the news for a bit, but a great deal of the reporting tended towards opinion pieces. Climate change denial has pivoted in recent years from ‘it’s not happening’ to ‘we can’t afford it’ or ‘there’s nothing we can do about it’. We can do plenty. We can stop emitting carbon. I don’t mean me and you – our individual contributions to this, like recycling tins, or watering your flowers with your washing up water, or punishing your anus with recycled toilet paper, they’re all great, but without the rest of it it’s a fart in a windstorm. One of the best (I use the word ‘best’ here in the most sarcastic manner possible) things BP ever did for themselves was to start this whole individual carbon footprint thing as it gaslights us into believing we could solve this if only we made enough small individual changes. Don’t misunderstand me, I think small individual changes are great, and when enough of us make them they can have huge impacts, but in actuality, without massive systemic change to go with it, it’s merely a louder, more intense fart in the aforementioned windstorm.

Not long after the report was published, the Spectator, that bastion of balance, and not a far right wing mouthpiece at all, ran a cover with a picture of a hole into which money is falling, bemoaning the ‘cost of net zero’. First, net zero is bullshit – it’s governments and companies trying to offset carbon emissions. But they’re still emitting the carbon. Climate change doesn’t give one shit about your nonsense economic wriggling. Nobody talks about the cost of not halting carbon emissions, which will be, at the least, billions of lives and at the most, well, everything.

The cost isn’t actually that much either; in the UK and the US it is estimated that the cost of converting to a non-carbon setting is less than what is spent on military budgets each year. And yet, they continue to do nothing. Nothing but organise summits that accomplish nothing and talk about far future net zero targets that shift the responsibility on to the next cabinet/generation.

THERE IS NO MORE ROOM TO SHIFT THE RESPONSIBILITY.

THIS SHOULD BE EVERY GOVERNMENTS' AND EVERY COMPANY’S NUMBER ONE PRIORITY. BAR NONE.

IT SHOULD BE FRONT PAGE NEWS EVERYWHERE UNTIL IT’S UNAVOIDABLE – HALF-ARSED REPORTING IS ONE OF THE MAJOR REASONS SO FEW PEOPLE GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THE IMPENDING COLLAPSE OF THE ECOLOGICAL NETWORK WE RELY ON.

Spend the money to roll out the infrastructure. Install solar panels on every roof, and windfarms in every coastal water. Make every car electric. Replace every petrol station with recharge points.

It’s a start, isn’t it?

None of that is a perfect solution, and there will be some problems with it, but we have run out of time to wait for the market to provide a low cost, profitable, perfect solution. The market won’t. The market will let us all die as long as the profits keep rolling in, right until there’s no more food.

Think I’m overreacting? Being alarmist? Negative? The tipping points we’ve been warned to look out for are starting to tip. The Amazon rainforest now emits more carbon than it absorbs. We’re now seeing visible signs of the collapse of the Gulf Stream (something we have known for a while is at risk). If that goes you can kiss goodbye to UK agriculture and expect to start relying on imports for all of our food, which thanks to our newly-minted non-EU status, might be a tad tricky. (Also, I know I keep linking to Guardian articles re: climate change. It’s not bias, it’s that no other source is doing a whole lot of climate reporting, even now.)

We’ve known about this for over 100 years. Perhaps almost 200. We’ve had decades to incrementally ween ourselves off our reliance on fossil fuels. But we’ve suffered an endless misinformation campaign waged by companies, media outlets and governments that rely on the profits generated by burning fossil fuels that caused us to question if it even existed.

And still…in the face of absolute undeniability, they do nothing.

Deliberately missing the point.

I almost didn’t write this because really, who needs to hear from yet another average white man? But often writing about things helps me examine my perspective and organise my thoughts a little better. So here I am.

Since the rape and murder of Sarah Everard in London, women have been sharing experiences over social media of the many many times they’ve been made to feel unsafe or endured some form of harassment. Sharing that fear of never knowing if the men making remarks to them are going to stop at remarks, or go further, or as in Sarah Everard’s case, ensure they don’t make it home alive.

It’s distressing to hear and read of so many accounts of this. But then men started to shout up. ‘Not all men’ they say. Frankly, that’s about as useful as ‘all lives matter’, and as with that ridiculous response to Black Lives Matter, it is deliberately missing the point. No, not all men are rapists and murderers. That does go without saying. But can every man honestly say that he’s never with the things he’s said to a woman, or by the way he’s stood too close to a woman, or stared for a little too long, that he’s never made a woman feel uncomfortable? Or scared, unsure if this time will be merely another invasion of personal space to endure, or will end up being something more final? Or pulled up one of his friends when he sees them do it?

I’d like to think not, but when I was younger I wasn’t so aware of the problem as I am now, so I don’t think I could say for sure. So, maybe in some ways it is all men? There were also comments made about how duh, women shouldn’t go out alone after dark, obviously it’s not safe, that’s just common sense. Why is it? Why should women be prevented from being outside after dark, when the danger comes from men? Why not keep men in after dark in that case?

I’m quite pleased I’m older now so don’t really find myself in situations where this could happen, but I do recall an incident from a night out a few years ago now. I’d had a really good night out with a few friends who were part of a wider group, and during the night we’d met up with and started chatting with another group of women. One of the women was plastered (if I recall one of her friends had said she’d not long gone through a bad break up). One of the men from my extended group had been with her for much of the night. Near the end of the night when some of her friends had tried to separate them, he hadn’t taken kindly to that, and I believe he had hit one of them.

Outside they were trying to bundle her into a cab to get her away from him, but he was trying to follow her. As the closest male witness to it all I was asked to intervene. I didn’t know what to say, so instead of challenging him directly I simply stood in front of him allowing her friends to get her and themselves away and hoped he didn’t get more violent. He didn’t and after a few minutes after they’d left, he’d wondered off to I don’t know where.

The thing is, I’m an abject coward and try my best to avoid confrontations, so putting myself in front of this man trying to force his way into a cab genuinely terrified me. But there’s the rub. As a man, I don’t have to feel that fear every time I’m out after dark. If I did, if I had to spend my life on high alert like that, I think I’d be very angry indeed. I think it wouldn’t be unreasonable to demand change. Or a moment to stand in solidarity with another woman who lost her life just because of a man acting on his basest instincts. And if that vigil was interrupted by another group of violent men, I would want nothing less than to burn the whole system that keeps me in this unending cycle to ashes.

Men are useless and women should inherit the earth.

Not a traitor.

We’ll start with a Final Jeopardy question:

The irreparably corrupt convincing the (mostly) uninformed to demand the incompetent deliver the impossible.

Answers on a post card.

It was intimated to me not so long ago that not wanting to leave the EU meant that somehow I was a traitor to the UK, siding with the enemy. I suppose the first point is that when did the EU become our enemy? Secondly, I have long established my dislike of obsessive patriotism, how it’s little more than mild racism, and how one of the best things for us as a species in the long run would be to stop allowing lines drawn on a map dictate where we can and can’t go, drop this infantile tribalism and just, you know, treat each other as fellow humans rather than allowing the country of one’s birth or one’s parents’ or grandparents’ birth inform how worthy we think people are of basic respect.

Feeling sad while posh twats cheer a person declare an end to free movement with a smirk on her face does not make me a traitor.

Thinking it's bizarre that said person seems really pleased about introducing an 'Australian-style points system' under which her own family would have most likely been denied entry to the UK doesn't make me a traitor.

Feeling bereft that my children and their children (if the species lasts that long) will be denied the chance to work, live, love and settle in nearly 30 other countries as easily as getting on a train does not make me a traitor.

Wanting to be part of a larger international community working together to achieve positive outcomes, and not wanting to retreat to a more insular existence looking to a rose-tinted past does not make me a traitor.

Being worried about people I know having to deal with uncertainty regarding their right to stay in the place they’ve lived and worked for years and years does not make me a traitor.

Pointing out that the vote of 17 million people out of a country of 66 million doesn’t really give anyone carte blanche to do things that will take decades to recover from doesn’t make me a traitor.

Disagreeing with the assertion from the Daily Express that the said 17 million have been ignored, because the past three years has been almost nothing but an attempt to deliver this impossible thing you think you want does not make me a traitor.

Pointing out that about 1.5 million of them have died in the 3 years since, and that millions more now have a right to vote, making the original result somewhat out of date doesn’t make me a traitor.

Thinking that it’s strange that those in positions of influence advising we go ahead and leave without a deal stand to make £8.3 billion from their hedge fund speculations betting against the performance of UK companies because they know the country will be negatively affected isn’t reported more widely in the press doesn’t make me a traitor. (Eat, and I can’t stress this strongly enough, the rich.)

Feeling depressed when thinking about the sheer amount of good that could have been done year after year if dickheads didn't obsess over stupid shite don't make me no traitor.

Finding it hard to understand how non-racist leave voters don’t think that the massive level of support from racists and the sharp rise in racist violence the day the result was announced isn’t cause for concern and possibly a rethink doesn’t make me a traitor.

Pointing out that precisely nobody voted for no deal, which in fact highlights the profoundly unworkable nature of the original referendum, cursed from the outset, does not make me a traitor.

Being afraid for people who are dependent on drugs imported from other EU countries does not make me a traitor.

Saying that if you’re surprised that the ‘plan’ to take us out keeps falling apart when it comes up against the cold light of reality and long-established Parliamentary law means you’re not getting enough actual fact in your tabloid-fed bullshit does not make me a traitor. (As a starting point, try supplementing your red-top nonsense by following actual legal expert David Allen Green, if you can stand the hellscape Twitter has become.)

Thinking that ripping up over 4 decades of social, legal and economic integration without anything to replace it with is highly likely to cause recession, anxiety, social unrest, violence and the collapse of institutions and arrangements dependent on this integration (like, say, the NHS or the Good Friday Agreement) doesn’t make me a traitor.

Feeling impotent fury watching an old colleague’s record store go from a growing business to a stagnating one, barely afloat in the years since the referendum as stock imported from Europe rises steadily in cost due to a floundering and uncertain pound, and punters find themselves with less disposable income does not make me a traitor.

Repeat after me: NONE. OF. THESE. THINGS. MAKE. ME. A. TRAITOR.

Stop ruining things.

There was a field in my local town centre that always managed to lift my spirits as I went past it. It wasn’t very large and it was full of buttercups at the right time of year. It’s strange sometimes how small things can have a significant impact. This field wasn’t large or spectacular, but its yellow carpet throughout the summer months meant it always did a lot to improve my outlook when I drove past it (yes I know the fact that I drove past as I appreciated this field is possibly somewhat illogical, but its location meant that I would never be in a position to walk past it – if you’re local it’s by the M54 roundabout just up the hill from where Blockbusters used to be).

You might notice me talking in the past tense. That’s because they dug it up and concreted it over. It’s now yet another KFC and yet another Costa Coffee – there are already multiple instances of both brands throughout my town. Now driving past, the little lift I used to get has been replaced by another little tug dragging me down. Those little lifts are important – they help get you through the day, which helps get you through the week, which helps get you through the so on and so on. Without them, life has a little less colour, a little less joy, a little more…grey.

You could consider me lucky, because I still live in an area with a significant amount of greenery, but every time another meadow of flowers is ripped up and destroyed to build another copy of another brand we don’t need any more of, it gets harder and harder to stay positive.

How are we supposed to stop them? How soon will it be until they build a Costa on top of the Wrekin? Or on the Ironbridge? I don’t know. I’ve tried not going to them, but it doesn’t seem to make a difference, what with everybody else going to them.

Maybe eventually enough of us will realise what we’re losing with every new unnecessary church erected to the gods of capitalism and profit to make a difference, but I doubt that’ll happen in time.

Too late?

I’ve been banging on about climate change a lot lately. Well, I don’t intend to apologise for that. Just because too many of us are either not aware of what’s going to happen, or are ignoring it and choosing to carry on regardless, or, like me, carry on fully aware that everything I can do to reduce the damage I’m doing is like using a teaspoon to clean up an oil spill, it doesn’t mean the future we’ve decided for ourselves is something I can stop going on about.

Because I can take a pretty decent guess at how I think my kids are going to die. The latest IPCC report paints a pretty bleak picture of our future if major changes aren’t made yesterday. That bleak picture is actually pretty rosy compared to the likely reality, knowing full well as we do that those with the power to effect real change don’t have any intention of doing it. Keeping within 2 degrees of warming will merely mean the deaths of millions and the resettling of millions more. Not speaking for myself, we’ve always pretty much accepted this, because it will mostly be impoverished countries taking the brunt of it, so we’ll all be able to feel sorry for those poor folks living far away, maybe donate a bit to a charity and keep on pissing away the planet’s resources like we always have, assuming we can do enough to keep within 2 degrees.

But we’re not doing enough. It’s years too late. Maybe decades. But hey, this has only been known for 100 years or so in scientific circles, so it isn’t like we had enough time to change, you know? Murdoch, Koch and other names of very rich white men are continuing to push the discussion in other directions. The good we could have accomplished, and the progress we could have made if we hadn’t spent our time focusing on shite like leaving the E.U. (noticed how the Venn diagram for those heavily in favour of leaving and those that deny climate change is a clear and present threat (or even exists) pretty much overlaps?), abusing folks migrating from other countries (you have no idea of the shitshow coming if you think we’re overwhelmed now (which we’re not)) or countless other political pursuits that won’t mean anything in the long run if this isn’t tackled simultaneously breaks my heart and fills me with fury enough to, when I let it, stop me being of any use to anyone.

We’re currently banking on technology that hasn’t been invented yet to fix this mess at some point in the future. The truth is too ridiculous for parody. It’s like an American senator assuming praying will do a damn thing to stop idiots shooting schoolchildren so they can continue to do nothing (as with climate change, the lack of action by those with the power to affect change, leashed by the power of money, is now beyond reprehensible). There’s a Venn overlap again in there somewhere.

The increasingly likely outcome then is looking more and more like 8 degrees. That’s not ‘just’ the deaths of millions. That’s ecological collapse. That’s impossible to grow food (no, we can’t just switch to growing bananas and coconuts). That’s everybody dying. I’m guessing those on top of the economic tree using their influence to convince as many people as they can to keep the status quo and allow this to happen are assuming their money will protect them, and that they will somehow be able to profit off it. But sooner or later, food won’t just be expensive, it simply won’t be there.

And that’s why I’m worried I can take an educated guess as to how my kids might die. If it is, it’ll be the same way your kids will die. It might even be how I go out if I hold on long enough: starvation. Doesn’t seem possible at the moment does it? That’s why you listen to the people spending their lives in study of it telling you this could happen. It’s probably too late to swerve it, and we’re still going straight at it full throttle, ignoring the shouts of those telling us to change course.

A lasting impression I could do without.

Have you ever read a book or watched a film that you know is extremely good, but you still wish you’d never gone anywhere near it? I’ve done it twice now. The first was when we watched Grave of the Fireflies. Studio Ghibli has a body of work that pretty much nobody can touch for quality, save maybe Pixar. Grave of the Fireflies is a 1988 animated film directed by Isao Takahata which forms part of the Ghibli collection. It brings home the devastating cost of war by focusing on two children in Japan near the end of the second world war, who lose their parents and have to try to survive together in the face of starvation and the antipathy of a population numb to tragedy. Studio Ghibli films are not afraid to focus on hardship, loss and grief, but they are generally optimistic. When I had finished watching, I felt something I’d never felt in reaction to a film before or since; a physical pain. My heart was broken and I felt like I’d been kicked in the gut. The film is incredible; told with the same gift for character and astonishing artistry that is par for the course for Ghibli, but I don’t ever want to see it again and I can’t bring myself to recommend it to anyone. It was like having my heart stomped on by the one person I can usually expect to make it soar. I was in a funk for weeks afterwards, unable to shake the feeling of desperate hopelessness it left in me. Art that can do that is undeniably powerful, but all the same, I’d rather not feel like that.

I recently read Random Acts of Senseless Violence. Written by Jack Womack and published in 1993, it tells the story of Lola, a young teenage girl living in a in a well-to-do area of New York, while the world around her falls apart. When her parents can no longer find work and have to move to a more dangerous area, we follow Lola as she changes from private school girl to ruthless gangster, and it makes for such a depressing read. It’s very well done, but it is so infuriating to see this innocent girl have her life taken from her and her potential lost. Not just Lola, but a society that could’ve been so much more devolve into shadow of itself, beset by riots and greed. It felt the same way reading High Rise felt, this chilling feeling of a society making the decision to let itself topple from the cliff edge, and the sense of everything slowly going to hell, when with just a little more will, it might’ve pulled itself back from the brink. A bit like living in a UK forcing itself to leave the European Union even though it knows full well what the consequences are going to be, or like I would imagine living in the U.S. under President Cockwomble feels like.

This book has stuck with me not just because of that though, but because of something specific, and that’s the death of Lola’s father. No longer able to make ends meet as a screenwriter due to the volatile world the book is set in, he has no choice but to work extremely long hours in a job in which he is constantly under pressure and screamed at and berated for barely enough money to afford the rent on the crappy apartment the family have had to move to. There is a truly haunting scene in which poor Lola finds her father dead having had a heart attack in the middle of the night, and eventually, this is the thing that pushes Lola beyond the point of no return.

I’m not saying that the world in which I live and work is anywhere near as bad as the unfortunate Lola’s. But I am on that borderline between just managing financially and not managing. And I do work overtime. Since reading that book, the only thing on my mind when I get up at 6:15 on a Saturday morning to work overtime to supplement my wages while my family sleeps is that dreadful scene of Lola discovering her father’s body, after he worked and stressed himself to death trying play a rigged game just to keep his family safe and alive (he’d already given up on happy).

If this strikes you as overly melodramatic, well you’d be right. I actually quite enjoy my job. My family are, relatively speaking, safe and happy. While I do always feel like I don’t have enough money to get by, the truth is, we’ve managed it so far, so I expect we’ll be fine. But that’s the effect of well-made art on the psyche. We are going to have to deal with major crises over the coming decades because nobody has got the will to do a damn thing about climate change, but instead of the biggest emergency our species has ever had to deal with dominating the news and the political stage, we’re arguing about whether or not it’s a good idea to rip up the fragile Northern Ireland peace agreement so Lord Snooty (how can you not look at that snivelling weasel Rees-Mogg and think of anyone else?) can keep hold of his unearned, inherited, offshore tax-free millions and withdrawing from the agreement that ended the Cold War (good job America. Well done).

So it feels like, as in Random Acts of Senseless Violence, we are also a society deliberately deciding to step off into the abyss, and that’s why Lola and her father struck such a chord with me; forced to narrow their view and look out only for themselves, and as far as her father goes, eventually die trying.

Still. Chin up, eh?

A conversation around a campfire.

The sun was a blazing orange fire over the western horizon. Even at this late hour, the heat was oppressive, leaving you at once drenched and parched whether or not you were in shade. Shadows everywhere were lengthening, announcing the onset of another night. The sky was a clear bright blue, but it was possible to see the blue turning a darker shade as the sun continued to set. The ground was bare, brown and dusty; there had been no rain all season, but the rains would soon return; torrential, relentless, deadly. For now though, dryness and heat reigned.

In the middle distance, the city sparkled. A dead forest of metal, concrete and glass, but it looked beautiful bathed in the orange and pink sunset for all of that. She knew not to get closer – that beauty was not even skin-deep. Up close, the façade wouldn’t last a moment and the stench of death and decay would overwhelm. In that place, she would be prey. Better to stay out here, scratching for whatever she could find to survive with her family.

In spite of the heat, they worked together to get a fire going. Even at this late hour, it was possible to get badly burned by extended exposure to the sun, but when it finally fell behind the horizon the sky would darken quickly. The family gathered in the shade of an overhanging rock and shared the meagre provisions they had managed to gather, save and catch while avoiding the worst of the sun and other scavengers. They had a little food and some clean water, which was getting more difficult to find around here, now the supply of sealed plastic bottles was running low. They’d probably have to move on again soon. Too much running water would make you ill, as would the air, but what could you do? You had to drink. You had to breathe. Unless you didn’t.

But those were problems for another day. Tonight they would eat, drink and be together in each other’s company. Perhaps nana would tell them more stories about the old world. Sure enough, when the sun had gone and the food had been eaten, nana regaled them all.

“Oh what a world we had,” she would say. “Those towers over yonder? There weren’t no death around them, no rot.” She paused. “Well, not as much as there is now. We’d live in buildings all cosied up next to each other, and the really tall ones like that,” she said, pointing to the dark horizon where we knew the night hid those tall, dead towers, “we’d go to work.”

“What’s work?” the others dutifully replied, although they’d heard nana talk about this before, and expected it all to make as little sense this time as all the other times.

“Well, little ones, we used to spend all day in buildings doing things inside them. Working.” Nana looked down. “Keeping it all going,” she whispered, almost to herself.

“Was it fun?”

“Fun? No, it was work. We had to do it. Or at least we thought we did. Even those that didn’t think we had to had to because there were so many of us that did think we had to. We spent almost all of our time working in those buildings.”

“Because you didn’t have to look for food?”

“That was the beauty of it my darlings. We didn’t need to. Huge buildings full of all types of food. We always preferred the food that hurt us.” She shrugged at this seemingly nonsensical statement before continuing. “We were paid for the work we did. We used what they paid us to get our food. Then just threw away what we didn’t want. Let somebody else deal with it, that’s what we thought. That’s what we were brought up to think.” Nana was on a roll now. The story was familiar, so they settled back and allowed it to wash over them. She pulled a dead, useless black box from her pocket and caressed it. She would often do that when talking about the old days.

“My whole life was in this little box in those days,” she said wistfully, as she had done many times before. “Every single one of these little things that were made damaged the planet. But we all had one. It was worth it. At least I thought it was, back then. We all did. Even when we realised the damage we were doing, we carried right on doing it. The world was a small price to pay for one of these. There were other devices as well. Huge screens where we would watch stories unfold, shiny boxes that would allow us to play games with other people all over the world.”

“I can’t even imagine it, but it sounds wonderful,” the older kids would say.

“It should have been your world as well little ones. You should have inherited it from us. But the truth is, we refused to stop. We didn’t want to. Why leave a wonderful world behind for others, when we could just take it all ourselves? In hindsight, I guess we should’ve been more considerate, but by the time it had become clear to most of us, it was too late. But there were enough of us that knew in our hearts and didn’t care to stop even so. Every year we used the pay from our working to by new boxes, new screens, new things, even though the ones we already had worked fine. The new ones didn’t do a whole lot different, but there were enough little things that change with each new one that we just had to have it. For a device that takes your picture and puts little dog ears on you, we figured the world was a small price to pay.”

“Ah well nana. Maybe someday that world will come back.”

“I hope so little ones. I hope so.”

They all knew it wouldn’t, though. For what did they have left to build it with? Seas choked with discarded plastic? Rivers of poisoned water empty of life? No. Better to focus on what was real, not what was gone. They would survive while they could and adapt if they could.

Evening gave way to night and the sky darkened further, before coming alive again with stars. The night was full of them, with the Milky Way visible as a long strip of dust dissecting the sky, saturated with starlight. They were all mesmerised, like always on a clear night. As they stared to drift off to sleep under the sky, some of them heard nana speak softly to herself, tears in her eyes and clutching her dead phone. “I’m so sorry,” she said, over and over again, until she finally slept.

Not losing the will to try.

That’s what they want you to do. You’re bombarded with so many outrages – lies upon lies upon lies. It’s fatiguing. It gets so tiresome that it can sometimes be hard to find the will to give a shit.

Take the presidency over the water (lower-case ‘p’ on purpose, before you wonder – that piss-filled cheese piece isn’t worthy of being called a President). Mere weeks ago a story broke about how he inherited hundreds of millions from his father that was laundered illegally – it should’ve been enough to finish any democratically-elected world leader, but it’s already been forgotten in the midst of his administration approving the launching of tear gas at migrants seeking asylum at the US-Mexico border. Granted, the facts of the matter here are not simple to ascertain, but following the administration’s previous efforts at separating families at the border and locking children up, even forcing distraught toddlers to appear in court, you’d think they’d want to be mindful of their public image. He’s just rolling from one dreadful abuse of power to the next as a constant diversionary tactic. And somehow, it’s working – Republicans are mildly critical, but won’t move to remove him as long as their agenda is being pushed through and Democrats don’t have enough power to mobilise (although that might now have changed following the recent midterm elections). It’s mind-boggling how a supposedly democratically elected party can represent the views of such a small percentage of a country’s population and yet hold such a large majority of the power. Makes the UK’s first past the post system and elected oligarchy seem positively fair. Although it isn’t, but I’ve mentioned that before. Speaking of our own fair isle, the press are largely doing their damnedest to convince us there is anything remotely positive to the shitshow that is our attempt to leave the EU – so far there is not one damn thing that is set to improve – our quality of life, our standing in the international community, our GDP – everything is going to get worse. But hey, we had a vote before anyone knew anything about the details of the consequences of our national brain fart, so you know, better just get on with it.

A similar tactic has been employed regarding climate change over the years. The future projections are now so dire that most people appear to be plugging fingers in ears and just hoping it will go away or somebody else will solve the problem. There are 100 companies responsible for about 71% of all carbon emissions, so the truth is we could have solved this years ago easily if people just weren’t greedy arseholes. It’s not going to go away. It’s going to get worse. Unless an asteroid comes along in the meantime and wipes us out it’s going to ruin us, and the timescale appears to be a matter of decades, not centuries. Not even the next generation – my generation. The changes that we can’t be arsed to make now will be forced on us, and frankly, I find it hard to think of a reason why we wouldn’t deserve it.

What was I talking about? Oh yes, the way all of this makes it hard to avoid being ground down. It’s ok to feel like that – there are times it’s unavoidable. Sometimes it pays to take a little time to collect yourself, then pick yourself up and do better. Continue to vote, to resist the creeping xenophobia and wider acceptance of it. Arm yourself with fact, not bullshit opinions spouted by others that have zero regard for objective truth. Do your research, don’t rely on one source of news, because it will misinform you. Don’t stop, because that’s what they want you to do.

New occasional feature: Ending with a song loosely related to the post:

Ocean Colour Scene: Up on the Downside: “I am a witness to a land of a million fools.”

We might be in a lot more trouble that we think.

It might just be the negative effects of social media. It might not be as bad as it can sometimes seem. But it might be that our democracy is being dismantled right in front of us.

Let’s start with America. It’ll be hard to catch you up if you’re new to this, but, to summarise, it seems with the recent indictment of 12 Russians for interfering in the election of Drumpf that the investigation by special counsel Robert Mueller has uncovered some pretty damning evidence that Putin was heavily involved in installing the orange cockwomble in the Whitehouse. Cambridge Analytica appears to have been involved, stealing the data of many, many Facebook users. Hundreds of thousands of fake social media accounts were set up in Russia to spread untruth and cloud the issues. Twitter has, only recently, starting to delete these profiles – thousands of them at a time. That’s a good thing, but it’s also a bit late, and I expect they’ll be replaced before long.

Republicans have been warping democracy for some time however, and the most damaging of these arsemaggots has been Mitch McConnell. Mitch is, to put it mildly, a huge fucking arsehole. A hateful shit of a man so far in the pocket of the corporate and ideological interests he serves in place of actual people that if there is such as thing as a soul, his is no longer anything more than a wank stain on Bernard Manning’s bed sheets. The Supreme Court of the United States, when it needs to appoint a judge, has that judge selected by the sitting President. Obama’s choice was denied a place because McConnell had control of the Senate and delayed the hearing until after the election, which Drumpf won. The spot Obama was not allowed to fill has therefore now been filled by a Republican nominee, needless to say of a hard-right persuasion. I’ve heard a number of times that this is not legal. But I don’t get it – if it is illegal, why has it been allowed to go on, and why was nobody arrested. Is it illegal or not?

The Republican’ts’ (see what I did there?) dodgy tactics has meant some wins for them at the Supreme Court, not the least significant is the Court’s decision to allow them to continue gerrymandering. This means using your knowledge of what people are most likely to vote for in a geographic area and using that knowledge to draw constituency boundaries to give one party an unfair advantage. In many places, because of gerrymandering, constituency boundaries look utterly bonkers, Democrats require a great deal more votes to get elected, and the newly Republican-favouring Supreme Court shut down a motion to prevent it. Even better, one of the more moderate judges is now retiring, meaning it’s possible McConnell could get another hard right judge on the court, potentially paving the way to overturn the historic Roe vs Wade, making abortion illegal again. In 2018. Even better, the latest nominee doesn’t believe a sitting President should be investigated or impeached, and should basically sit there like some kind of emperor, immune to law and judgement. So Mueller’s investigation could be halted at any time, leaving the whole corrupt lot of them free from criminal prosecution. I keep reading people dramatically tweeting that the Republicunts (see what I did there?) will be remembered on the wrong side of history, as if at the end of all this America won’t just be an annex of Russia, with democracy and actual freedom and independence a thing of the past. They still assume they’ll win, but from what I can see, that is somewhat up in the air.

But why should anyone in the UK care? First of all, because that attitude of not caring about anyone except ourselves is what’s got us in the current mess we’re in. Secondly, like it or not, America does have a large impact on world events, and the current clusterfuck in the White House will have far-reaching effects for everybody, not just Americans and their brown-skinned neighbours.

But mostly, because there is some evidence that Russia also had a significant impact on the vote to shoot ourselves in the foot leave the EU. The same Russians that have been involved with the U.S. election, were involved with Farage and the Vote Leave campaign. Cambridge Analytica were involved, as was Facebook, who has recently been fined the maximum amount possible for violating the Data Protection Act during the time of the election. And then trying to cover it up. The only place this appears to be being investigated is at the Guardian, by award-winning journalist Carol Cadwalladr. It’s being picked up by American newsgroups but nobody else in the UK is covering it. I’d expect that of the Fail and the Scum, but not even Channel 4 is really covering it. It does appear that the Leave camp broke electoral law, but it still doesn’t seem to matter. So many people are so disengaged that either they don’t know or don’t care.

Or is it something else? Have I actually got nothing to worry about? Is it nothing more than a conspiracy theory that has snagged me and some of the people I follow on social media? Am I worrying that democracy in the U.S. and, by extension, here too, is being dismantled by a hostile foreign power and some collaborators in country unnecessarily? I kind of hope so. And you can tell it’s a truly messed up state of affairs if I hope my mental state is a bit off rather than what I’m seeing and reading being true.

But if it is true, and Rees-Mogg, Farage and BoJo force us to leave the EU without a proper deal (leaving them free to inflict all manner of right-wing ideology on us – has this been the plan all along?), and the band of reprobates over the water continue to push America to a lesser, more insular and racist version of itself, then hopefully enough people won’t roll over and let them do it, and will continue to resist.

In case for some reason it isn’t clear.

It is not normal to be a Nazi. There has been a recent New York Times article about one of the newly-bold Nazi pieces of shit over in America in the wake of Trump. It talks about how this pond scum is just like everyone else with the unfortunate exception of his extreme right-wing viewpoint. It cannot be said clearly enough: Fuck. That. Shit.

If you consider yourself an average everyday person but somehow you’re convinced that your skin colour (not your genetic heritage – that’s different – everybody’s got a bit of everybody else in their genes, Nazi or not (the video that links to, by the way, is just beautiful and should be watched by absolutely everybody)), or the religion you prefer, or the fact that you have a dick, makes you automatically better than others because they’re different, then take a long, hard look at yourself, and think about what it was that made you white, Christian, or male. Nothing special. Genes. The part of the world where you happened to be born. If you still can’t see it, then please feel free to lie down and die.

Same goes for you if you think the fact that you’re a multi-millionaire means you should pay less tax. Lewis Hamilton, Bono and the Queen can promote Children in Need or tell us what we should do to end poverty or make the world a better place all they want; the truth is, if they and every other fucknut like them didn’t invest the country’s money offshore so they could sit on a fortune of £250 million instead of a mere £198 million, there’d be much less need for Children in Need. Selfish, greedy fucks.

There are so many other examples (denying obvious truths like the facts that leaving the EU is turning into exactly the custerfuck those of us wanting to stay told you it would, that being in a position of power or celebrity doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want with the bodies of other people, that climate change is now likely to prevent us seeing the next century in as a civilised species because we couldn’t be arsed to do anything about it when we had the chance, running a newspaper that channels utter bullshit, becoming the biggest enabler of this crap out there, and, the newest – deciding that animals don’t feel pain to prevent you having to deal with pesky welfare regulations when you have your ‘sovereignty’ back (which you never actually lost in the first place)), that to go into depth would take for ever and make me sick in my soul. That’s if a soul was anything more than a human invention.

But most of all, the Nazis.

Control of what, exactly?

Since Article 50 will be likely triggered any time now, with no plan beyond demanding the impossible, pointless aggressive posturing, the failure of which is being blamed on the negativity of those of us who are, correctly, saying that what the plan wants to accomplish is blatantly impossible, I’m still wondering what it is we’re actually going to be taking control of. Straight bananas? Seems to me that the loss of workers’ rights, the Good Friday Agreement, higher standards of food and environmental protections, millions and millions of pounds in investment in infrastructure and a place at the table of a coalition of countries with a vested interest in peace is a high price to pay for straighter bananas.

I suppose there are our arms sales to consider. As Saudi Arabia is bombing Yemen with bombs built by us and sold to them, it is possible that the EU might have stepped in and told us that, you know, selling bombs to nations that are dropping them on schools, villages and other targets full of innocent people isn’t something a supposedly advanced nation should really be doing. But hey, guess what? If we split from the EU we can keep on selling! Death to Yemen school children if it means profit for us, right? Is that what taking back control means?

Trump-mania in the US is also cause (apparently) for Farage & co to celebrate. I mean, climate change? The single biggest threat to our species? Well, putting a collection of people who will happily tell everyone it doesn’t exist in charge is a great way of forgetting all about it…until it’s too late to stop Florida going underwater, that is. Resources are getting scarcer. There are occasional shortages of food, that, at the moment, are still cause for joking around – there’s a shortage of Iceberg lettuce, isn’t that funny! It’s going to get worse, you know. While the reasons may have been a mere coincidence of unfortunate weather conditions, what effect do you think climate change has on the weather? More uncertainty, more freakish coincidences. More shortages, for longer until, inconceivable as it is right now, you and your children may actually be in danger of going hungry. And what then? Will it still be funny?

It really is getting harder and harder to convince myself that within decades, war won’t engulf us all. Still, try making a suggestion that we need to make some large changes. For example, stop selling bombs and other arms to other countries, stop digging up carbon from underground and shitting it into the sky, work together with other countries instead of pretending we’re still an Empire that runs half the world (and causes untold suffering while doing it). Try that and you get told that you just don’t understand, your position is just childishness, lacking in understanding in how the world really works. No, I understand just fine. I understand that that those on top will commit and endorse any atrocity imaginable as long as they stay on top. I understand that they can go fuck themselves, and that there will always be a resistance. There will always be those of us that resist the idea that the only way to get on in life is to turn away from the suffering of others just to protect your own position and wealth.

Orwell’s vision of humanity’s future, of a boot stamping on a human face, forever, has not yet come to pass, and there are those of us who are still determined to jam a knife right through that fucking boot.

New occasional feature: Ending with a song relating to the post:

Jeff Buckley: Eternal Life. “While all these ugly gentlemen play all their foolish games, there’s a flaming red horizon that screams our names.”

Another species?

I’ve sometimes been feeling lately like I’m a different species from this sapient race I keep reading about and hearing about that, faced with an oncoming cliff edge, rather than trying to apply the brakes or even swerve, have elected to accelerate. I’ve still only heard one remotely sensible reasonable explanation for voting to leave the EU, and with the election of President Fucktrumpet over the water, it just seems that we are absolutely determined to burn our world down around us.

While some people have been celebrating these things, other people have been trying to make excuses for them and still others have been watching them unfold with a horrified look on their faces. We’ve heard lots of people giving their own opinions on who is to blame. Jonathan Pie thinks the left are at fault. Others blame the voting public (and the non-voting public). Yet more blame media bias. Something to me seems obvious – this clusterfuck has been brought on by a combination of all these things and more.

It’s true when you tell a pro-lifer they’re stupid and full of shit they tend not to want to debate you. It’s true if you call someone worried about unchecked immigration a racist prick it is unlikely to change their mind, or even make them stop to think. It’s true we need to engage with people who think differently. The problem is I’m not sure evidence and facts really work as well as they once did. Lies are told blatantly and repeatedly by the press and the powerful, but they don’t seem to care because by the time it is inescapable, they’re already on to the next lie.

But. While the best thing for the press in all its current forms would be to piss off up its own wretched arse, it is only partly to blame. Farage, Trump, Murdoch and co are only partly to blame. You can’t have a proper democracy without an informed and engaged populace. It is undeniable that some people are wilfully ignorant and purposefully deaf to attempts to engage. People that can be presented with hard evidence of climate change and claim that it’s just a Chinese hoax and that burning more coal is obviously the answer (seriously, America, what were you thinking?) It is every person’s responsibility to ensure they are aware of all sides of the debate, to at least make an effort to see the other side. To be open to the possibility that just because you’ve always voted one way, it doesn’t mean the current incarnation of your party has your best interests at heart. If you ensure your only source of news is the Daily Mail or the Guardian because they fit best with your worldview, then you are part of the fucking problem. Stop being part of the fucking problem and get yourself a balanced view of the world from multiple sources that aren’t just interested in reporting events through their own distorted ideological prism.

It isn’t really a case of left and right – few politicians have turned out to be quite so Tory as the warmongering, bank deregulating Blair and Brown show, and Hilary Clinton was so far up Wall Street’s arse she probably couldn’t smell her own rank hypocrisy. If you want a genuine change, this is not what you vote for. Of course, the change that President Fartfeathers represents is entirely the wrong sort, and, given the choice, I’d take the more of the same that Clinton would have been and the minimum wage that Nu-Labour introduced over the legacy of needless austerity we’ve been living with recently any day.

I know it doesn’t do you any good to spent lots of time stressed and anxious about what you can’t change, but this year it has been particularly hard, and I can’t really see things improving much any time soon. Maybe I can find a way to move to a little town overlooking a mountain lake or something. Maybe the people who are more like the species of human I remember are all hiding out there.

New occasional feature: Ending with a song relating to the post:

Pixies: Caribou: “This human form, where I was born, I now repent.”

On the pursuit of wealth.

The best things in life may be free, but everything else, up to and including the second best things in life, costs a bloody fortune. And if it doesn’t, you can bet that some bugger somewhere is trying to figure out a way to make it. It’s going to be hard to make it sound like I’m not just coming from a place of jealousy, but I really don’t mind that people and companies make ludicrous sums of money. Good luck to ‘em, if it makes them happy.

I do mind when the deliberate actions they take impact directly on people who are not rich just to protect their already-ridiculous-and-still-increasing profit margins. Governments inflicting austerity measures on people, with the loss of amenities all across the country while resolutely failing to try to collect masses and masses of unpaid corporation tax, while also trying to convince people you should manage a country’s economy the same way you manage a household budget. A press that relentlessly bullshits its readers and focuses on stirring anger and hate against others who have the fucking cheek to, wait for it, be born or have parents that were born on the other side of a line on a fucking map, because it sells more papers. Companies that aggressively market milk formula in a third world country as an alternative to breastfeeding, leading to the deaths of a significant number of babies due to the unclean water the formula is made up with and other issues (hi Nestlé! Fuck you Nestlé!). Businessmen who will bully and cheat smaller businesses out of money owed just because they can (an example of such a person being the fucktard who is the current Republican Presidential candidate). We’ve got to the point now that the effects of climate change are beginning to be unavoidable, and yet there is still a huge push to deny it is even happening (I’m actually impressed Brian Cox didn’t deck this fucking prick) amongst our elected leaders everywhere, and even the ones who admit it’s happening seem pretty powerless to do a damn thing about it. The opportunities and the progress we’re going to lose over the coming decades because of this deliberate cuntery is heart breaking.

All because being really ridiculously rich or turning over stupidly high profits isn’t enough. They’ve got to be even richer, make even more, pushing our species and our planet’s ability to support us to the brink in the process. I don’t regret having children, but I regret the desolate future I’ve brought them in to. The so-called 'American Dream' is no longer a romantic ideal (if it ever was). It is simply economic wealth at the expense of everything else, and it is poisonous, and has infected many developed and developing countries all over the world, to the detriment of all.

How can this be changed? What can be done? This is the kicker. Everyone thinks you need money, and it is reinforced everywhere. And because that’s what everyone thinks, it means you kind of do need the money. You need money to make headway against it. Even if you’re content, like me, to do the best you can on a smaller scale and live by your own set of values ("Do the good you see in front of you" to once again quote Pratchett), you still need it. Even two working people on, for the area, not terrible salaries, can’t afford a place to live. You could see the confusion in the face of the mortgage advisor when we explained we’re not interested in a Shared Ownership on a newly built shoebox in the middle of a number of other identical shoeboxes, with the intention of climbing the property ladder, but we just want to find a place to settle, comfy enough to set up a home and not move on every few years. We can afford it – over a decade without a single missed rent payment is proof of that, but saving a monster deposit? That we cannot do. So we’re stuck, with a choice between staying put and continuing to rent or moving into the Shared Ownership shoebox. Renting it is, then.

Who decided that living life this way was a good idea? Because it smells like bullshit to me.

New occasional feature: Ending with a song relating to the post:

Hives – Without the Money: “Without the money, there’s nothing you can do.”

So what happens next?

We voted to leave, and there’s nothing we can do about that now. My own opinion is that this was a very bad decision, and it is infecting many of my waking thoughts. I’m frightened that the already depressing future we were heading for has been made exponentially worse. The Government has fractured and the end result will be a significant shift to the right from what was already a fairly right wing position. People are still turning away from Labour in droves. If Parliament get cold feet and fail to enact the will of the people, irrespective of how mind-bogglingly bad I believe that decision to be, there is another party ready to fill in the gap. It isn’t outside the realms of my worst nightmare that come the next general election UKIP will be the second party. How about the first? Unlikely, sure, but we’ve spent years now underestimating them. Prime Minister Farage. How does that sound? Zero policies, but certainly willing to press the article 50 button. Plus, it does appear that none of the main parties have much in the way of policies at the moment. Except perhaps the SNP, who quite understandably want to get the fuck out of there. Perhaps nobody really expected it to happen. Not even those voting for it. But.

First thing. It did happen. There is no do-over. Maybe, if the 17 million people who voted to leave sign that utterly pointless petition, there might be something to it. If you wanted to remain but didn’t vote, then you are a fucking idiot. If you voted to leave without any idea of what the implications might be and now regret it, then you are a fucking idiot.

Second, I don’t believe for a moment that everyone voting to leave is a racist old person or irretrievably stupid. Many of them undoubtedly are, which is why the only people cheering for this result are other extreme right wing groups throughout Europe, the lying scum-fingering press, and Donald Trump. Oh, and Farage of course. The continued weakening of the pound into recession was expected. The sharp rise in racist attacks was expected, as the aforementioned irretrievably stupid now feel their idiocy has legitimacy. However. Remain voters who are now tarring all leave voters with the same brush don’t seem to see the irony in doing the exact thing they voted against. Intelligent and informed people I know, respect and love voted to leave, and I won’t accept for a second that they did that because they wanted to see violent attacks rise and our fragile economic footing shaken again. I have better taste in friends and loved ones than that.

I too recognise that the EU is bloated, corrupt and inefficient. What I don’t see is how extricating ourselves from it is in any way going to improve things for anyone. Imperfect as it was, it alone could enforce measures that may still mitigate some of the very worst effects of climate change. It alone could take steps to restrict the power of corporations to abuse the rights of people. It alone can help you if your Government is treating you unfairly. It alone can share intelligence between all of its members to combat terrorism. It alone can provide you with a choice of other countries for you or your children to live, work, love and retire in.

I don’t think remain voters should have to ‘get over it’ – we are distraught over the loss of our place in the world and all that came with it and we have every right to be distressed and angry. Five days on, I’m still depressed and anxious, and that isn’t going to change anytime soon. But what we don’t want to do is do what too many of those in the north of England and in Wales did – express that anger in a way that makes things worse. Decades of neglect from both Labour and Tory governments has left a lot of people from these regions ready to lash out. Unfortunately, they’ve lashed out in a way that will, almost certainly, make things worse for them. Don’t do the same thing by lashing out at them. Unlike when the millionaire politicians declare it, we really are all in it together, and we’ll have to find a way to reconcile the difference in opinion and try to make the best of it.

What I fear is that we’ve effectively pulled the plug out of the bottom of the EU bath and over the course of the coming decades too many of the things we take for granted are going to dissolve before our very eyes. But I’ve been wrong before. Many times. I hope with every fibre of my being that I’m wrong here, too.

What I intend to do is continue to live life in peace with a smile on my face for all of my neighbours, regardless of who they are or how they vote. Engage with each other, don’t simply shout your own point of view at everyone else and assume you’re the one in the right. That’s what being a citizen of England, Europe or the world means. It means taking responsibility for your own education and your own opinions and trying to change your corner of the world for the better. We’re Britain for crying out loud. We wrote the Magna Carta, over 500 years before those Americans and their imperfect Constitution. We wrote the European Convention on Human Rights to ensure that never again could a country in Europe alter its laws to make genocide legal. We sit at the very heart of protecting human rights. We will not allow our country to slide into degenerate lunacy, where acts of violence against innocent people who happen to be unlike us are not only tolerated, but encouraged. We’re better than that, and for as long as I have breath, I will never give that ideal up. And neither will, I’m sure, the majority of people who voted to leave. She’ll be right. Eventually. Hopefully.

Some questions (not exactly Keats).

Widowmakers, are you pleased at what you’ve done?
Are you celebrating, having fun?
Mission accomplished.
Many hundreds dead.
Many lives extinguished.
The fires of hate well-fed.
Your war you can’t ever expect to win, defeat is all you are,
Nous sommes ensemble dans la lumière, pour brûler le noir.

Orphanmakers, what drives you to such hate?
Some deep-seated fear, fear of your fate?
Murdering innocents.
For your made up god.
Do you think that’s what he wants?
Is he really such a sod?
We’ll beat back every one of your attacks; beat back all you are.
Nous sommes ensemble dans la lumière, pour brûler le noir.

Beautykillers, how do you think this will end?
Our death? Your death? The death of all we defend?
You want to make us afraid?
We already were.
Did that ever stop us?
Not bloody likely, sir.
Just a modern day inquisition; that is all you are.
Nous sommes ensemble dans la lumière, pour brûler le noir.

Motherfuckers, what right have you to do this?
Is it still because cartoonists took the piss?
You do not have the right.
No-one has the right.
The hundreds you have killed:
They did not start this fight.
Cunts like you try to drown us in terror, but you only light the spark.
We stand together in the light, to burn away the dark.

The strange and depressing case of Donna Williams.

Just before Christmas, I was walking to the bus station to catch the bus home after work. It was late and dark, and I just wanted to get home and see my kids. Walking towards me is a person, stumbling slightly, veering a little, but definitely heading my way. As we close in on each other, I notice that they are very upset, crying, gesturing, wanting very much to communicate something urgently. It is at this point that I reluctantly decide I have to take my headphones out of my ears and engage with this person. Sadly, being able to hear her makes little difference, because she is very upset, very drunk, with a very strong West Midlands (possibly) accent.

As the sounds tumble from her mouth I slowly begin to establish that something bad happened at a cash point. I think maybe some people stole the cash she was withdrawing or perhaps even forced her to withdraw money. It sounds serious so I point her in the direction of the police station, and after much repetition I think she understands. She neglects to make any movement towards said police station, however, choosing instead to stand by me. In a small voice, I hear her say “I think you’d better come with me”. Thinking rather selfishly about my bus and my kids’ bath time, I reluctantly agree - she is so distressed I’m left with little choice. I begin to wonder if she’s on drugs as well.

As we start towards the police station, she seems to find a little self control and I am hoping I can just leave her to whoever’s on duty at the front desk and catch my bus after all. “I’m Donna” she says en route, visibly pleased to have someone else around. We walk into the police station, and it is immediately clear that the guy behind the desk is very reluctant to talk to her, and is barely civil to me.

As Donna feebly attempts to explain what got her so upset in her mostly unintelligible drivel, it seems that in her drunken and possibly drugged state, she may merely have witnessed some people withdrawing cash from a cash point and assumed they were stealing the bank’s, and possibly her money. Even without the drink, the drugs and the distress, it seems clear that Donna never had the benefit of a full education (which might go some way to explaining the drink and the drugs). She continues to talk, to repeat herself while waving her bank card about (it is now I am able to establish her full name as she waves her card under my nose). She talks about her Jobseeker’s money, about how she still has a little in her account, about if the police do catch these apparent thieves, what will happen, going round and round, repeating herself in broken random sentences, while struggling to focus. The guy behind the desk is trying to explain that there would need to be proof of a crime first, and that she should check her account and talk to her bank. My bus has long gone, but it is clear that Donna will get no help from the police tonight. Not that there’s really anything they could do – she’s pissed and going on about people withdrawing cash and her Jobseeker’s. Eventually she is convinced to leave.

Outside, she seems to feel better, so I make my excuses. Donna is off to a pub and invites me along for a drink about ten times before I am finally able to shake her hand and get away. I don’t want to be there to see what a panic she gets in when the pub refuses to serve her. I catch a later bus and get home just in time to say goodnight to my kids as they get into bed.

It seems a shame that people like Donna exist, but it is an inevitable consequence of a civilisation such as ours. Success is measured by achievement and wealth, progress and the accumulation of stuff. When you don’t have the ability to accomplish in the same terms, you get cast down, left to live on Jobseeker’s Allowance, scorned by those around you and with no prospects of it ever changing. Without even the knowledge or basic level of social intelligence to see the kind of problem you have what is left? Drink. Drugs. Other temporary avenues of escape.

I hope Donna is okay. I hope she made it through that night. I hope she finds some miraculous way to improve her circumstances. If you ever meet her, or find yourself forced to interact with someone like her, don’t be an asshole, okay?