Too bleak for a Saturday

In which our heroine realises the world is batshit insane and resorts to escapism

The world has gone insane. INSANE. People are being bombed to death daily, in schools and home and hospitals, and we don’t even talk about ending the wars anymore. We are trying to bomb the world to peace, apparently. Millions of people are literally wandering the earth seeking refuge and in the West we pat ourselves on the back for caring about a few thousand of them. And bomb the countries they come from some more.

Children and babies are locked up in dangerous and unhealthy camps where we know they are abused. by the “good guys”. The bad guys chop off people’s heads and bomb innocents but so does Saudi Arabia and they get to chair the UN Human Rights Committee. Every day our government tells us WE ARE ALL IN DANGER so we live in a climate of constant fear. We need this war on terror to keep us safe, we’re told but it’s been going on for nearly 15 years and do you feel safer?


We live in a world where one 23 year old guy can own 33 luxury cars, but hundreds die of Ebola for the lack of sanitation. Where $22,000 cocktails exist but old people have to choose between food and heating. Humans have such capacity: we can land a spacecraft on a comet in flight, we can replace a person’s face, or their heart, we can make music that makes people weep with joy. Yet we throw away some lives like they are trash. In pursuit of what exactly?

Meanwhile here in Australia we slog away (if we’re lucky enough to have a job) to make a living to put food in our mouths and roofs over our heads, day in and day out, dutifully paying our taxes. And day in and day out we hear the litany of things those taxes cannot buy. Meals on Wheels. Domestic violence refuges. Decent education for all children. But we can afford up to $650,000 a bomb some more. And we can afford $400,000 per asylum seeker per year to lock people up who are fleeing those bombs

Coco bananas.

The sense of impotence in the face of this craziness is overwhelming. The only thing for it is escape. It’s Saturday! Go to your happy place, however you get there (Is it any wonder people takes drugs? The wonder is that some don’t!)

I find working on my novel (even with all its satan worship and human slavery) a welcome respite from the horror of real life.Maybe you could read a book. Watch a movie. Get out in nature. Run. Swim in the ocean. Binge watch on Netflix while eating your body weight in nachos. Drink too much. Make cocktails for breakfast. Fuck the laundry. Fuck the cleaning. Fuck responsibility. Get out there and Saturday the shit out of this.

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