Sat, 14 Jun 2003
Take this century back; it's broken
I have a recurrent feeling these days, that I'm living in the wrong
trouser-leg of time. Somehow history has taken a wrong turning, and
instead of cruising along the infosuperhighway of the future, in radiant
sunlight with the roof down and music blaring, we're
rolling out of control, bumping down a rutted dirt track towards a dead
end, clouds gathering overhead and a demented neoconservative Tourette's
case yammering on the radio.
('Scuse me while I untangle the metaphor.)
Look, my personal life is fine. I've always wanted to
be a full-time SF writer (don't ask why, if I wanted to know
I'd pay a shrink), and I live in a mostly-beautiful city (if
you can ignore the neds and the eldritch wee bampots in black
anoraks with rolling hairy eyeballs who slobber at you on
street corners), with a soul-mate who's only slightly less
sane than I am, and we're doing okay. But the rest of the
world, from what I read about it in the papers, seems to be
on a protracted bad trip. And it's getting me down, in the way
that only close proximity to the truly bummed-out can achieve.
Reasons this century is broken:
- A smirking chimp sticks one finger up at the public and
says "you don't count", as he walks away with a
constitutional coup and the keys to the last remaining
superpower in his pocket.
-
A camera looking up at bright sky and tall buildings, as an
airliner streaks in from one corner of the frame.
-
Cops clubbing journalists trying to monitor demonstrations
against the Owners. We've been bought and sold like cattle and
most people don't even realise there's a price tag stapled to
their ear.
-
Oligopolists make a power grab while the watch geese sleep
uneasily, their gizzards stuffed with stolen corn.
-
Space shuttle breaking up, magnesium-bright shards peeling
away from the re-entry trail.
Can I have the real twenty-first century back now, please? I
don't want this one; it stinks and bits keep falling off it.
posted at: 21:58 | path: /misc | permanent link to this entry
Fred not Ted
That's Fred Brooks, not Ted Brooks. (Hangs head in shame.)
posted at: 21:35 | path: /writing | permanent link to this entry
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