A Journal of the Plague Year Day 6

Monday, 23rd March 2020

Okay, today’s been tough. As in tough being stuck indoors. So not that tough given the mf shitcake the world is baking right now. But let’s forget perspective and ethics and scale and any later claims to hairblowing heroism, I’m feeling it’s tough, being in bed. Still in my PJ’s, writing the book for 5 hrs, break for a pot noodle, then admin for another 3hrs and counting, and writing now the blog. I imagine weeerrkk today will account for about 11hrs when I’m done with this. Don’t mind it so much but when it involves claiming travel insurance, a new all-day, family affair, it’s gonna be a memorable one.

I don’t know anyone who can conceivably enjoy or enable into existence the process of filling out jargon-heavy forms, ringing up multiple call centres, midway discovering other refunds not fulfilled or double charging, then extracting a range of evidence, phone and bank records, screenshots and converting it all to PDF while trying to annotate using counter-intuitive tools. Our collective societies should be designed around never having to do this. A is doing a big chunk of the werk, but in his roundabout way, operative word roundabout. I dream of the day we can talk to an operating system, perhaps pleasingly named Berty, or Sharon, and get them to fill out, fact-check, source and send the form within milliseconds, trawling through your emails, creating attachments and communicating with other OS’s in multiple bureaucratic pigeonholes. She’d only have to ask if you wanted to claim, and all you’d have to say is yes Shazza, yes.

Throughout this time the smell’s getting to me. That pungent burnt aroma it appears only I can still savour, reeking at a low level throughout the flat two days later -not so much cardboard/ woodsmoke, more dead fish, giving me a headache, a gnawing gut feeling and a lack of appetite. It does make me wonder what Francomanca puts into its boxes. I found out how to fully open the 2 metre high windows yesterday after fiddling with the brackets, they swing dangerously out and I’ve entreatied the housemates not to trampoline.

The fact I’m already moaning about the little things in life is an indicator methinks. This is the new normal. People are dying, and I’m inside, oblivious. When UK reaches the state of Italy I will be singing a different tune, nearer to the first blog post, what only 5 days ago, so full of doom and gloom, and now look at me, complaining about paperwork. Do I have to acknowledge disaster every day? Do I have the altruism to even look?

The news is full of snaps of heaving beaches and national parks; places such as Snowdonia and the Peak District recording their busiest days in living memory, where parking space so ran out miles of empty cars appropriated the country lanes. London parks are now threatening closure until we behave. And stop effectively killing each other – a viral load indeed.

s

Brighton:

ss

A similar story played out in so-called lockdown states in the US, notably squawky Californian beaches and buzzing Floridian boat parties, tied up to party. The tube lines and trains in London also suffered a rush hour, in part thanks to the enlightened choice of cutting down so many services and stations the travelers that still travel have to cram onto the next available shuttles, making social distancing a Hawkins-esque theory, a bit like how they claim learning algebra will help you in life. The govt maintains that only essential workers should use the trains, and is discussing full stay-at-home-or-we’ll-shoot-you lockdown, by all counts the only thing that may work on us Brits, especially when that once in a lifetime opportunity presents itself in the sky of a golden glowing ball.

 

Still terrible news from Italy, but marginally better as a slight dip has been seen in infections and deaths these past 24 hrs, the latter down from over 800 to 600. India has enacted a lockdown now of over 80 cities and over 100 million people, the largest in history alongside China’s -the subcontinent has been especially vigilant for months, and can be praised for their far-reaching measures knowing full well the disastrous possibilities in the world’s densest tracts of humanity, even with their much earlier lockdowns, public transport and interstate travel bans, rail cancellations and events and business closures.

s

However, for all its foresight the Indian govt can only hold so much at bay, with such a vast undertaking. Some states alone have 200 million people in them.  And when Indians and Africans start dying in their far greater droves, will we even care by then?

The US continues to squabble over a blame game, alongside ineffectual handling of preventative measures. Opinion pieces in CNN and the New York Times are now making the connection (alongside Dr. Anthony Fauci, the main health advisor to the regime) that an administration compromised by so pointing the finger is misdirecting its resources, possibly wilfully so. Fauci maintained in yesterday’s interview with CNN, that he can’t exactly jump in front of the microphone and take it away whenever POTUS makes another sweepingly inaccurate statement. The usage of a line of appropriated human props in the background of his public appearances are surely starting to reveal the holes rather than cover them, by the fact many of them appear to have thought processing.

s

Japan is mulling over whether to postpone or possibly cancel the Olympics (its legally binding agreement when accepting the flame was to hold it in 2020, this year only). Norway and Canada are already out. The nation’s torch relay has been heavily edited already and similar hisses are being sounded across many nations to follow suit. More shockingly, Eurovision was canceled.

Having scrolled through a few million comments last night on the Internatz, it appears people are settling into the routine, while many others are reaching the point of cabin fever/ bankruptcy/ withdrawal and asking in their non-drug hazed clouds, whether it’d be better to just get on with normal life and let the millions die. It’s reached that. The moral question on an indentured life in the name of the living. And we’re barely at the shit>X<fan moment. The global economy is now set for a depression, the Asian nations months ahead of us in the pandemic, whose lockdowns and infection levels were steadfastly clearing, are now facing reinfection, as numbers climb increasingly from returnees stepping off planes from Europe and the Americas.

Last night I had a sore throat, so quickly used the throat spray thing everyone says got invented in Sweden a few years back, and that halts many colds in their tracks. Despite it being anti-bac rather than anything anti-viral. Had to use it again today, and A admitted the same, but thinking it’s just the dry air from being indoors for so long. Here’s to hoping.

Last night’s matinee was Onward, Pixar’s latest which has a fantastic premise (blue elves, centaurs, trolls and assorted storybook creatures transposed into today’s evolved existence, of suburban drives, class politics, and that time-worn Disney adage, the magic of unbridled capitalism), along with lovely visuals and two likable protagonists. However, how very quickly does it wear off, how very quickly do we realise how unexotic our everyday is, even populated by pet dragons, cop centaurs and chimeral restaurant owners. And there’s only so far you can push the same meme of juxtaposing fable with reality- although they definitely should have had more on the feral unicorns. A very human story, almost boringly so. Plus a rather bizarre insertion of a half body dad (don’t ask). I generally felt they missed a trick somewhat, peppered with way too much Deux Ex and dreamed up situational comedy written by several competing writers without a producer. It is too deeply unmagical, too accurate to our lives to suspend disbelief.

s

 

Next up is the BAFTA winning documentary For Sama. In this day and age, dare I watch it? The struggle of a filmmaker, newly pregnant, who is forced to stay in Aleppo, the world’s oldest city and former UNESCO World Heritage Site as it’s bombed out of existence (her partner a frontline medic). The ethical dilemma of bringing a new life into such a world throughout. It is perhaps too close for home now, no longer viewed from the pity generating, door slamming safeties of mollycoddled privilege, in the continent next door.

s

Aleppo was of course Syria’s biggest city (more so than its capital Damascus) and no less than 8,000 years old as the same continuously inhabited settlement, while we were largely still looking for caves and handy-sized rocks, and mammoths still roamed. At its centre a vast citadel that would be the world’s largest castle if ever we decided to call it one, and surrounded by ancient medinas, bazaars, churches (yes, churches) and mosques:

s

Now gone

sss

It is a harbinger, that we have been here before. If another country offered shelter, on the doorstep, would we go, could we afford the liquidity of an average $20,000 fee, and risk that seafaring, lorry-hiding, continent crossing journey? From a war with an estimated 700 sides, where half a million have died violently or from starvation. It brings it home, context, scale, memory. When society crumbles where do we turn?

There’s a lessening pool of what can suspend disbelief, of options in escapism. But we should at least be thankful we still, right now, have the choice.

Need to open the windows again. Then Netflix, then pie.

Yesterday

Tomorrow

 

 

EVERYTHING THAT’S WRONG IN OUR LIVES

So what is it about our daily existence that brings us down? Yes, you, face down in the porridge, only 8 in the morning but already thinking of slitting your wrists to emo grunge, except that you don’t have time to end it all as you have to Go To Werk. Then putting your make up on after, like you forgot to take the face mask off -and why not? Why can’t we go around the daily commute looking like the Joker on a pub crawl? Why can’t we just lie down and go to sleep when we want, where we want? Does it actually cause harm? No.

christmas-couple

www.ukmodels.co.uk 

But because we’re meant to be good looking (tick). Nice (tick). Educated (tick). Clever (tick). Rich (tick). Successful (tick). Respected (tick). Popular (tick). Loved (tick). Stylish (tick). Funny (tick). Well traveled (tick).Happy (tick). And the life and soul of dinner parties (tick). People are meant to dance at your funeral because it’s like, a celebration of your life. Innit. And you don’t want people to be sad at your passing. They want to remember you for all your glorious thingings.

– No, actually fuck dinner parties. You’re now the life and soul of transvestite all-nighters on boats. N shit. On fire.  And fuck nice. You got Edge, baby.

We’ve heard it all before: falling down the stairs is an uphill battle. Life is an untrammeled disaster, just remember to sing while you’re in the lifeboats. If life gives you lemons make a fucking lemon grenade for your window twitching, wife swapping neighbour. All this points to the social construct, The Man, the social media representations we send out like invites. The irritating, exasperatingly heedful force of expectation. Yada yada yada; we’ve got all that to juggle with. Cow, listen, rebel, don’t rebel. Fuck it. Don’t fuck it.

Then throw along family too. That endless source of amusement, camaraderie, and Christmas arguments. People we once touched. They have a whole set of expectation alongside, nuanced with finer colours and strands, cloying in ever more subtle ways to resurface at opportune times when you’re least armed. Memories, worries, yearnings, realisations and occasionally shared dreams that forge our daily identity, whether we’re in the middle of chatting up the hottie from Accounts or drumming one’s head on the bus window as you slumber the petit mort of the overworked and oversexed. We’re meant to love them. We’re meant to honour them. We’re meant to forgive them. And they’re meant to reciprocate – but even if they don’t we should be gliding about like a motherfucking sunbeam of forgiveness and charity anyway. Oh how they tease!

 

 

a1

www.wholeandwell.com

But bear in mind  the lesson from China. Once one of the most suicidally prone societies, sharing Goth music right up there with South Korea and Japan, but who embarked on a 400 million strong sojourn to the coast with its seagulls and Nike factories and skyscraping businesses away from the village. Tens of millions of families divided and sacrificed, who sent back money, cried over lost childhoods, lost parents, exacerbated by the two child rule, and making stark photo ops as they flooded the transport networks every New Year to tearfully reunite in their homesteads. Yet this wrenching of a generation away from their family units resulted in a phenomenon – a rapidly falling suicide rate. Is this a giant, nationwide flood of crocodile tears? Well no, those are indeed heartfelt longings, with the concept of family the cornerstone of the world’s oldest surviving civilisation. And there’s a whole generation of angst-ridden kids missing their parents that’s baiting society these days into questioning its sacrificial soul. But it appears the pressure is undeniably lessened, that love is also all too often cloaked with expectation.

 

Apple-BigBrother-1984

http://www.thecorsaironline.com

 

And why this East Asian triumvirate (the former China, Japan and South Korea) that so often tops the leagues in people topping themselves? Yes life is hard, there’s a lot of pressure to succeed, and they don’t take a lot of holidays – but then neither do any of the Developing World, who often don’t have the luxury of choice in the matter, and work multiple times more. Mexicans work harder than anyone else FFS. Well East Asia, thanks to mister Buddha and mister Confucius, operates on a ‘shame society’ (it’s not that bad, we in the West -thanks to Mr Jesus / Abrahamic religion- operate on a ‘guilt society’). The difference between a guilt society is that ultimately one can, if one so chooses, forgive ourselves, or at least work toward that. On a shame based society  you have to work the wider community in order to attain that forgiveness – and it’s much harder to convince an entire town to do something than one person (yourself) to play along. I mean seriously, good luck with that next time you suck at becoming a film star –  here you listen to self loathing music and do more lines on your tea break to get over it,  while over there you do the same but apologising the whole time to your family, friends, dealer and maybe customers for your lisp and gammy hand coz hey, Joaquin Phoenix managed to pull it off. Just sayin.

Harajuku Kids (26)makehairstyles2013.blogspot.com

 

Hence why people kill themselves more over imagined failures, or being a ‘burden’ on their family and loved ones, especially those who are mentally ill to start off with. How dark. Suicide is improving now in Japan, despite Hollywood and Youtubers’ attempts to cash in on the Suicide Forest or all things creepy and long haired that come out of mirrors. Things best forgotten that stand by the bed at night and wait. And wait. Yet are best ignored. As in China, people are starting to find themselves better by turning over, and paying less attention to social or familial diktaat.

 

a2

http://www.thetimes.co.uk/tto/environment/article2908273.ece

 

They say we’re not lone animals like tigers. We’re not herding animals like cows. But we’re not single family unit animals either. If you look at the kingdom of monkeys, apes and primates, they tend to function in groups of families – lets say, 15-25 individuals. Think a hamlet where everyone knows each other, a large extended family where a child being brought up can run to her aunties and uncles as surrogate parents when Mum’s menopausal and Dad’s on the shots, or where you can let the little shit go wild with his cousins as you have your chocolate and fag and an episode on Netflicks.

So I’m not saying families are bad. But absence makes the heart grow fond, especially if you’re one of those rare, rare souls whose family didn’t step out of an Ikea catalogue. And the lack of domineering parents, judgmentally distant aunties and uncles and frankly trashy in-laws does lend a certain grace to freedom and finding oneself. Like a bell that chimes for itself alone. Get that out of the way- or at least at facebook arms distance-  and you only have to deal with The Man.

 

im1

http://www.fandango.com/movie-news/why-apes-are-scary-again-748118

But what a Man that is. Squatting there like a vastly overweight, pinstriped Hedge Fund Manager displaying his Type A balls to everyone his Eames chair can swivel too. There is something fundamentally wrong with society. Go look back at the chimps. On one side of the vast, sweeping Congo, second only to the Amazon as a giant riverine system, and uncrossable to those without a pirogue, live the Chimpanzees. They may seem cute, but they also mirror man’s failings and intrigues. Despite being affectionate, tender and individual, complete with personality types and functions, they also eat meat, hunt, declare war on each other, form cliques, remember grudges, bully, cannibalise, rape and murder.

This is a patriarchal society ruled by the old men – and don’t forget for all that cuteness Bubbles was 5-8x stronger than your average human (hence why Jacko tried multiple times to leave him behind at McDonalds Kids Parties). One little gangly ape named Suzette in Bronx zoo even wrenched 1,260 lbs in a rage, another pulled  800lbs one handed. – That’s a lot of damage one can inflict – so we shouldn’t judge them too harshly. Chimps are pretty much a race of Superman, who like eating grubs and throwing their shit. Angrily when coerced. It could knock you out with the force if it’s especially lumpy. So compared to humans Chimps are actually a glowing example of self control and not having wiped each other out a long time back, whenever Sandra stole the termite twig and you got a bit cross and tore her arm off.

chimp

 

But look on the other side of the river and another species operates – the Bonobos. Vegetarian, peace-loving and non-murderous, non cantakerous. Why don’t we hear more about these svelte little creatures? Why are the chimps the one to have garnered all the Goodall fame over the years? Well, the Bonobos spend every waking hour humping each other and playing with themselves for wont of anything better to do. Point your National Geographic lens on this side and you’ll likely see practices that would make a German orgy blush on Gimpstrasse. Kids on their back getting bored with the same ride. Group sex. Group wanking sessions. Male on male, female on female. Male on Female on Male on Male. Kid on Kid. Incest. Food. Sticks. The proliferate and inventive usage of tools so endemic to our Family. There haven’t been any reported cases of necrophilia (leave that to the penguins, who are likely to hump anything that trips or bends down to tie its little penguin laces), though I wouldn’t put it past the little hairy blighters.  The difference: these folks are matriarchal. I know I’d miss bacon and all that, but I know which side of the river I’d be batt(y)ing for.

bono

http://www.iflscience.com/plants-and-animals/craziest-sex-lives-animal-kingdom

There are only a handful of matriarchal societies left in the world, one or two in Africa and one or two in Asia, and it’s interesting to note they also operate in polygamous love. Lets go back to China, great denizen of the mystical, toy-making East. The Musuo hold regular village dances in the ancestral halls of their forested hill villages. In the West we call this Tindr. Lets say you’re a fit young man resplendent in your tribal colours and totemic tassles, with a dab hand at skipping to the beat and jumping higher than the average red blooded jungle hunk. The girl you dance with – if she likes you – will tickle your palm with her finger as you hold hands. This is secret sign language for : “hey hot-stuff I need you bad. Come to my place at night after mum’s gone to bed and I’ll open my window for you to creep inside and we can then make sweet loving. Bring root vegetables and Whatsapp.”

Congratulations, you have just become a ‘walking husband’. In the West we call this a fistpumping motherfucking RE-SULT. So okay, so far so monogamous. But the thing is the lady in question can have as many walking husbands as she pleases. And if one reads between the lines, you can be the walking husband of as many esteemed ladies of the Fragrant Nocturnal Emission Chambers as you can get. If you have a child with one of these women, you are not considered the father, merely the sperm donor, or if it makes you feel better, sweetie, the ‘birth-father’. The woman will be that child’s mother, her brother will be that child’s father. Luckily for the Musuo, Chinese minorities are exempt from the one/two child rule, so a brother is almost always present in a family. If they’re not fuck it, the kid’ll live.

a22

http://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/inpictures/2014/04/pictures-kingdom-women-2014430152323376208.html

 

So there you have it. Give the reins to a woman (no, really) and sex becomes no longer something to possess for either gender, and decorate with to one’s social status. There are less rules and stricture, less possessiveness. I know here in the West we all went through the Sexual Revolution in the Twentieth Century, but it’s still  a revolution based on a linear frame as always.

We went from God> Arranged Marriage > Children > Love of God > Whips and Bondage  in the Middle Ages

to Arranged Marriage > Romance > Children > Love of God LOVE >  after the Enlightenment

to Handkerchief Dropping > semi-arranged Marriage > Romance > Children > LOVE in the Nineteenth Century

to Romance > Sex  > Love > Marriage > Children Wifeswap Parties in the 1960s Sexual Revolution.

Today we’re morphing towards that slight tweaking thanks to hook up apps, and already rampant in the gay community:

Sex  > Wifeswap Parties Open Relationships > Romance > Love > Marriage .

The way the matriarchal societies work is take any of those concepts you like, just get rid of the: >.

 

If only it could mow the lawn too…

1918

http://www.planetorganic.com

But let’s harken back to reality. The Musuo are currently inundated with sex tourists from China and beyond due to their increasingly publicised reputation for polygamy – and well, seeming ready availability of sexually open females – a dearth in polite, yet barely masked patriarchal societies the world over. They however, do not share that vision of being part of a shining El Dorado to the creepy, fidgetty old men  who can’t make eye contact or the gung-ho, braying backpackers who turn up with prophylactic arrays on their mountains. And it would be obtuse to portray matriarchal societies as any less war mongering or hierarchical ( for example the Musuo operated a slave society until the Chinese outlawed it, and the language is still skewed to have female words meaning greater and male words as lesser). -But it’s interesting to see how a society plays out a different version of reality, modernity and the daily commute with women at the helm. Go south of the Tassili n’Adjer into Libya and Algeria, and see the Arab men who cover their faces (meekly nibbling at their food behind the cloth) while the women are unsheathed, and who hold the gold by inheriting matrilineally.

a21

http://www.forumbiodiversity.com/showthread.php/2906-Tuaregs-(West-amp-Saharan-Africa)

 

Anyway, I digress. I don’t think I’ve actually solved what’s wrong with our lives, just went on on one about sex and monkeys. But I think germs and war and interminably having to Werk come in there somewhere. Anyhoo, kill your family. Kill the president and put a woman there, any woman; Sandra from HR will do. Avoid chimpanzees.

Put off your death, switch the emo music off and put on your tie. Bitch.

 

DISCLAIMER

Ignore what I said about people dancing on my grave. I want everyone unhappy. A national day of mourning; maybe a parade. I want people throwing themselves on my coffin, cloaked in black gowns while the crowd streams in tears, like in Mafia movies.

 

Thank you. I have spoken.

 

 

beach

http://decider.com/2014/08/26/my-first-time-watching-beaches/