RO can do personal posts really well and I can't and that also annoys me.
So I think about how I might do a personal post over the weekend. We were in the New Forest again, committing various deeds, and I thought that maybe there might be something in that?
From the roof of my crumbling office in central London, I have a 360 degree view out to the bankers of Canary Wharf in one direction, The Shard, The City, up river past the Tower and Westminster in another, with Google and the British Museum to my right or right in front of me.
The office is literally crumbling... at least one of the three lifts don't work at any one time (usually more) and you can't drink the water from half the taps. Why? Because it is a delightful relic of the swinging London of the 60s and it is being torn down imminently because of the Crossrail project. There is no point in fixing any of it. So we are not so much working in this building as we are haunting it.
In the mornings I take my coffee up to the roof and peer down on the visible manifestation of a global economy re-engineering London to be its tax-avoiding, poor-people-eradicating, property-investing hub. It's obviously a bit grim but it's also... electrifying. The thing about working through your own personal eschatology -as Alkistis mentioned in this very building- is you get to a point where you're ambivalent and; dare I say it; even a little curious about what happens next. It's like a psychogeographic version of the last few moments of Fight Club Where Ed Norton and Helena Bonham-Carter hold hands and stare out the window.
As you might expect, the New Forest is properly magical. It also makes you feel hidden... secluded. Nothing can reach you there. It's very Lothlorien. You get the same sense on tiny islands in the Pacific except they aren't two hours drive from London.
So I think about doing a post that is personal but also about making sure you take seriously the need for new perspectives in your life. But I've already written that post. What I want to convey is the peculiar feeling of exhilaration you are allowed to experience as our post-apocalypse slides toward its inevitable state of entropic collapse. We have already covered enjoying the small things in troubling lives. This is something different.
Fortunately, the words of a recently-departed master are to hand. What I want to say is still we rise.
Rise. London. Curious exhilaration.
How about we convey that in a series of videos instead?
Yep. That does it.