Just a few months ago it seemed the whole world was a less certain place. On the brink of something frightening and yet exhilarating, the convergence of a perfect storm seemed to have created a champagne socialists wet dream. Suddenly we were presented with the opportunity to spread the legs of capitalism over the police car of morality, and bash the shit out of glorified gamblers in saville row suits with the truncheon of righteousness*. Plus, the extra threat of death by swine flu. Bonus! This whole year has had ‘everything is fucked’ written all over it. And (for me, anyway) it was all just a bit thrilling. What would become of us? Would we need to turn Acton Green into a community garden? Go back to subsistence farming? Spend our days reading books and making sure the neighbours were ok? But here we are only weeks away from Christmas and its all back to sodding normal. Real estate agents and market traders are no longer found staring mournfully over the A4 overpass. They are back in the wine bar at lunchtime eating stir-fried puppies and wiping their greasy chins with £50 pound notes.
Maybe it was the re-read of The Stand earlier in the year? I have always been a little transfixed by the idea of a post-apocalyptic community. The opportunity to start again has a seductive appeal. Without the need of money and this pointless, endless distraction of the pursuit of status and the accumulation of stuff. There would be no need to commute to and work in an office, so you can pay for the house that sits empty for most of the day while you commute to and work in an office…
And just think how many ‘professions’ would be rendered completely irrelevant: professional footballers, footballers wives, insurance agents, bankers, traders, real estate agents, any two-bit vacuous celebrity, management consultants, mobile phone salespeople, senior civil servants, anyone in a call centre, terrorists. We would still need medical professionals, teachers, engineers, mechanics, electricians, plumbers, builders, potentially IT people, definitely farmers. Most of us would need to become gardeners. Philosophers, economists, artists, poets and writers would help us make sense of it all. And we would need the army/police in some form. But mostly we would need leaders (so no change there then). I wonder if we would need god?
Would you be irrelevant in a post-apocalyptic world?
*violence is wrong kids.
Comments
Baby I’m irrelevant NOW and that’s just how I like it. Love that book btw.
Certainly not – I’d be growing produce and foraging in the hedgerows.
Ever read his story “the Mist”?
Talk about a worm into how society would behave. That coupled with “the Stand” should definitely keep you up at night thinking.
Me?
I’m going to start watching Survior Man…just in case.
:-)
I was pretty thrilled by the prospect of the collapse of the (unjust, cruel, facile) systems that constrain life as we know it. I still think it is happening, just not in one apocalyptic sweep.
I have a veggie garden and can start a fire and stoke it well enough to keep it going through the night to start up the next morning from the embers. I plan to be the storyteller with the fire that folks can gather around. Wanna spot? I might also put my humanitarian response skills into use if things really turn to custard…
I would welcome the opportunity to step out of the rat race and put my Girl Scout skills to use.
fantastic ladies with your skillz!
I too am a girl guide and i think i would be alright in a crisis (if work based events are anything to go by).
@Marianne if the revolution comes, I can think of nowhere better to be than by a campfire on the welly coast listening to everyone’s stories :)