Brexit has caused Britain to have a nervous breakdown. Where can I find solace?
How many things is it possible to be scared of at the same time? I am asking for a friend. Actually for all my friends. Indeed, everyone I ever met. Every day a new horror arises. Sunbathing in February? Well, that’s not normal is it? Police tape up again. Another stabbing. Another young woman missing. Then various Apocalypse Now-style scenarios played out on Twitter by the minute. Donald Trump excusing more murder and torture. People I admire dying way too young. Bodies in sleeping bags on the street. Camps in China. Kashmir. People shooting at the face of Shamima Begum for fun, and on and on it goes.
I used to watch a lot of horror films. Then I stopped and I don’t really know why; or perhaps I do. I used to think in a mindless way that some sort of technology would come along and solve everything, and now I feel I don’t know anything, despite the endless flow of information that technology enables.
Pessimism, however, is not an option. It drifts soon enough into passivity. It is draining and selfish in a certain way. I am not talking about clinical depression here; I am referring to the lazy way in which people my age go round talking in front of their kids about how things are going so badly wrong that there is little point. I’ve done it. It’s a habit that needs to be broken.