For weeks, months, years we (mini-me people) have been taking stock, watching every development of national life, world peace, thinking it all matters. It possibly did and has mattered but the overriding concern has been to just-get-through an unprecedented pandemic which could have lasted a couple of months but could yet last much much much longer. And the whole world over. This is not a Home Counties thing.
So even though England in Englandshire seems to be emerging from the pandemic, with a bevvy of vaccination (like a super lock-in), the World-as-a-whole stumbles on.
I am shocked at how much less we seem to care about the World only 10 or 20 years on from when we seemed to care, more, about the World.
Me and Kathy lay in bed last night and instead of making mad passionate love, we mused on whether, in the wake of George Floyd and justice-within-grasp or jury, oh and other developments, the world is actually becoming an even better place than ever it was. Whether the human race is actually ‘improving’, or the human is a lost stick in the sand (if only we could roll forward the clock 200 years and then look back with glorious hindsight, Netflix commissioned).
As we emerge from lockdown the challenges appear to be finding some or all of the money ‘we’ … ‘borrowed’, facing up to China, facing down everyday sexism in our schools (when half of us have daughters), facing up to China, seeing off Trump so that he is firmly in a ground not even a killed-Bill could escape, to keeping the kneel for BLM going and it meaning anything, to rediscovering a sex-drive, wanting to have children (why should we want to have children?), facing up to China, enabling people to live much longer from the scientific advances made from conquering Covid – do we really want people to live until 120 years old as a standard (even if we want the horrors of cancers and colitis truly slain)?
Off to the beach now.