Dec. 11th, 2022

smokingboot: (frustration)
There's a sickness goblin wandering this house. R had a headache and was cold and clammy to the touch, even at the stage when his heat-loving to the point of almost-a-reptile wife could take off a couple of layers. We have a brunch with friends this morning. I'm going to nag him into taking a Covid test first thing just to be sure. Something's not OK.

Something's not OK everywhere. Naturally, with so much going wrong in the UK, with food and fuel poverty, rampant corruption in Parliament and the government trying to crack down on the right to protest as well as the right to strike, the intartubes are full of Harry and Meghan.

I tried to watch it, but turned off after a couple of minutes, because, while essentially I am sympathetic to them, it just didn't hold me.

Since before their marriage, I saw some of the racism and snobbery, and yes, it was pretty pernicious. It wasn't just her mixed race heritage either, though my suspicion is that if that's not the heart of it, it's pretty close. But she was also (eau!) an actress and (eau! eau!) American etc. The only way to keep the press off her was for her to be pretty and unremarkable with an English pedigree and pale complexion. Kate seems thinner and more miserable by the day, and there have been plenty of rumours about how William looks elsewhere, but she doesn't put a step wrong and she has no distinguishing features upon which to hang a hook, so they turn away. Good for her. They torment unto death princesses they love, what they do to those they hate doesn't bear thinking about. Fergie was no fool to take the money and run. Meanwhile, no-one talks about her husband, the Queen's favourite son, Epstein's sweat-free friend. Over here, over here, where the lights are!

Eyes on the circus as people worry about their jobs and cut their spending trying to keep their houses warm, and the press again encourages us to hate people who just want to be able to live. It's wearing, this endless infantilised propaganda. Nurses need to eat and sleep and keep warm like everyone else. And oh yes, the whole country trotted out and clapped for them every Thursday at 8 o clock, isn't that sweet? Well, clapping's easy, clapping's free. Don't set them up as angels, give them decent wages!

While I am impatient and hate being inconvenienced in any way, I support strike action. In fact, what's needed here is a general strike. In the UK, we seem to be living in some kind of dream state where nothing really connects into the truth of people's lives; the infrastructure that works always works. Teachers will always teach, angels will save, the post always gets through, and some guiding national spirit will keep food on tables, clothes on backs, illness from our loved ones. I think many have forgotten that these are not magical mechanisms; they all come down to people. And people have the right not to accept being cold and hungry.

Yes, Bread and Circuses. What needs to be remembered is that when the bread runs out, the circus runs riot. Cos that's its job; to keep people in their seats.

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