Tuesday, 14 April 2009

These Are Not Great Days: These Are The Darkest Days Our Country Has Ever Lived

Despite the rush of schadenfreude to the head prompted by the despicable Derek Draper's fall from grace taking the Cromwellian Gordon Brown with him, I feel depressed. Terribly depressed. Depressed in a way that an entire school of nihilists would envy: I simply can't see any point in - well - anything. I can't see that any of us will be alive in ten years' time or, if we are, that our world will have been overrun by nations run on Islamic fundamentalist lines, or have become so totalitarian in response to Islamic fundamentalism that we will be tracked and tagged wherever we go, or that AIDS II will spread like wildfire (or perhaps bird flu: who knows?) and decimate human life; that man will develop ever-more sophisticated ways to spy on himself or destroy himself which will delight the disaster capitalists and neocons to everyone elses' expense; that every time I open my mouth I risk having my head bashed in by some upper-middle-class-hating prole, that positivism will anchor itself so firmly in the minds of the young that their imaginations will die, and all I have to look forward to is an impoverished senility in an old people's home, where I will be patronised, called by my first name without having invited such familiarity, and be drugged up to the eyeballs before dying alone. I've counted romantic relationships out of my equation - no-one can be bothered to get married these days but would rather commit to not committing and live together until they get sick of each other: not my bag; I've counted success out of my equation also, as no-one's interested in even reading what an aspiring writer/philosopher has to say these days, let alone representing them or publishing them. Because I've studied Theology and English Lit., I'm never going to get a decent salary; even if I were to find some job that remotely suited me, I'd be taxed through the nose, face a huge debt burden courtesy of this government for the rest of my life, and probably lose all my savings when another financial institution goes belly-up.
So, really, what is the point? I don't have freedom: society's an open prison. Usually we leave home to find independence; to break free of being watched constantly, questioned about our plans and whereabouts. Now the government's taken over the parental role, we can never leave home - unless we emigrate. I don't have prospects: the government's telling institutions to discriminate against people like me, because my background and education give me an unfair edge. There's nothing to look forward to. No wonder people drink until their livers burst.
Luckily, I'm not the only one. A report in the Telegraph today shows how the entire nation's dissolving in a morass of fear and anxiety; that the recession's going to last a lot longer than it should because of this all-pervasive sense of hopelessness and suspicion. In climates like these, people's Nietzschean drive kicks in: they start to look for a Messiah, a superhuman being to lead them out of the darkness. I only hope that we don't end up with another Hitler.


  1. Personally, I'd give DC a chance. He may well be a ray of sunshine to cheer us all up. Whatever, life is always a gift depression a passing cloud.

  2. Seems to me that you're going through a very bad patch.
    I've been there: you think that nothing's worth doing, nothing's worth anything.
    However, things change, events happen and all of a sudden the clouds of depression lift as if by magic.
    This weekend just gone has been, for me, one of the happiest I can remember for a very long time.
    It's a shame that we have to rely upon someone else's downfall for our spirits to rise up...but that's the way of life.
    Stiff upper lip, Una.

  3. My name is Diogenes.Please feel free to borrow my barrel.

  4. Mara, you studied theology, you don’t trust men, you object to paying tax, society is brutish: surely the answer’s obvious? Shave your head and become a nun.

    But if you think you’re depressed, consider Oldrightie and Cato, the serial cocksuckers and lickspittles of the blogosphere. Just imagine being like them; somnambulism made flesh, with nothing better to do than to spend their empty, hapless, tedious little lives rushing from blog to blog littering the place with their inane, egotistical compulsion to comment. The interweb graffiti artists with nothing, absolutely nothing of any value to say; all comments so bland, brainless, naive and inept that they must represent a constant embarrassment to the numerous recipients, and between whom they would be endlessly interchangable without notice or effect. This pair are obviously strangers to originality, utterly bereft of wit; theirs is a unique mix of narcissism, self-promotion, immaturity, delusion and doe-eyed sycophancy such as no other sentient being equipped with even the slightest capacity for introspection would be able to replicate or rival without buttock-clenching embarrassment.

    You should think yourself lucky, at least you have a brain.

  5. Have a hug Mara. It won't be that bad.

  6. Absolutely awesome post . . .intelligently written and a joy to read! Bravo! I will now follow you and check back frequently! Tp

  7. You should eat right.


    Welcome to the Psychiatric Hotline.

    If you are obsessive-compulsive, please press 1 repeatedly.

    If you are co-dependent, please ask someone to press 2.

    If you have multiple personalities, please press 3, 4, 5, and 6.

    If you are paranoid-delusional, we know who you are and what you want. Just stay on the line so we can trace the call.

    If you are schizophrenic, listen carefully and a little voice will tell you which number to press.

    If you are depressed, it doesn't matter which number you press. No one will answer.

    If you are delusional and occasionally hallucinate, please be aware that the thing you are holding on the side of your head is alive and about to bite off your ear.

  8. My word glasshopper, you really are quite emotional!

  9. This might help.

    You say the efforts that I make
    Will do no good;
    They will never prevail
    To tip the hovering scale
    Where justice hangs in the balance.

    I don’t think
    I ever thought they would,
    But I am prejudiced beyond debate
    In favour of my right to choose which side
    Shall feel the stubborn ounces of my weight.

    — Bonaro Overstreet

  10. Boring? Dumb? Maybe. Why not try a Terence McKenna moment or two. It does help you get to grips with those feelings of un-connectedness that talking-monkeys on a tiny planet in space often fall victim to.


Life is to be lived, not controlled, and humanity is won by continuing to play in face of certain defeat -Ralph Ellison