Brexit Day

As we walked off site tonight we noticed that the open plan office opposite our building had a huge union flag pinned to an internal wall upside down – (by mistake?)

All the staff normally have to work arranged in the windows, with the young attractive ones evidently placed in the most prominent desks by the slugs in the boardroom. This evening they were all standing facing one way, flag to the left. It looked like a miniature rally.

Today we leave the EU. Many people are celebrating. Many people are sad. I still don’t know what it means, frankly. All I have to judge it by is media sources – (which are, by their very nature partisan) – and personal pieces like this which are likely even less reliable and likely to be influenced by the mind of the writer no matter how hard they try to appear neutral.

The group in the office, with the big flag to their left – they had everybody standing to attention, hand on heart. It looked like pledging allegiance. We are closing the doors out and in. We don’t know how this will pan out yet, of course. But the voice says it’ll be good for us. Taking back control.

The ascendant voice at the moment is full of fear though. Hatred of the “other” unveiled and free “at last”. No longer can the “woke” people stop me from saying that I FUCKING HATE CAULIFLOWER AND I ALWAYS HAVE. Simmering, burning, ongoing, long-harboured actual hate of something almost arbitrarily chosen – borne of fear.

I see it in this city much more than at any time in my lifetime since the eighties where it was rife and all the rich boys at my prep school – only a few years after Boris left – tried to tell me that my good mate Navin’s sister Artie, who I rather fancied aged 10, smelt of poo. I didn’t understand it then. I don’t understand it now.

Fear. That’s the catalyst. And notice how we are immediately being encouraged to fear China now we have “beaten” the “enemy” EU. It’s in keeping with US policy – the Americans are our best shot at allies now that we’re local pariahs. It’s trad in the US to fear Jina. I’m not worried about Jina. I’m worried about fear. I fear fear.

I’ve hated it for so long, fear. I try to be fearless if I can. I manage it in my work and my movement.

I have areas of fear in my life, unaddressed, and they are my trigger areas. If you try to persuade me to go on a date I’ll bite your face off. Because I’m terrified of opening my heart again. Perhaps because I’m terrified of certainty, I’m not sure. But at least I’m aware of it and trying to look at it, slowly.

I think it’s a crisis of faith that we have in this country – and the western world.

We are more secular now than we have ever been, as a nation. A lot of my intelligent left brain friends are very proud to be rational atheists. I keep trying to tell them that’s ignorant and dogmatic.

We have evolved as a species to have irrational beliefs. If we don’t put our faith in Baal or Jahweh or The Flying Spaghetti Monster or Mohammed or Buddha, we still need somewhere to put it, so we put it into Katie Hopkins or Barrack Obama or Jordan Peterson or Richard Dawkins or Tommy Robinson. Or the EU, or Brexit. None of us are fully informed. Not even Tusk or Johnson or Trump. Nobody can predict the future. We can only look at the here and now. Experts will try to project. But it’s baseless, and the most trusted voice is usually the loudest.

I honestly miss religion in society. We wouldn’t be in this mess if all the fearful people could be told that they just have to chant more or not miss morning prayer or say hail Marys or burn more heretics or go to synagogue or pray at bedtime.

But no. Instead more and more people are being told to hate more, and they’re lapping it up.

Today, small offices standing hand on heart by the flag. Tomorrow the guillotine. Oh no, that’s French. The gas chamber. Ach no, German. The blood angel! Ayy no it’s Norse. Oh but hang on, we who make ourselves “English” – we ARE French. And before that we are German. And Norse… Fuck.


Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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