Sunday 1 January 2023

Welcome to the Future

It is that time of the year when eager sooth-sayers make prophecies for the coming solar revolution, from comforting soft assurances to portents of doom, every one an exercise in optimism, pessimism, simple pragmatism or mere wishful thinking. Forecasting is so much easier when you do not have to stand by your predictions, but why do we keep on deluding ourselves?

Nobody knows what lies beyond the morning. Nobody. Yet somehow we have to have some hope, some expectation, of what might be, just in order to keep on going. But where is the sunshine for 2023? Sunshine, you say? The climate change alarmists say we have had altogether too much sunshine for our own good, yet insist that the harvesting of energy from sunlight will save the planet. Which is it – too much, or too little?

Whatever else comes about, we can be pretty certain that the assault on Britishness will continue. Our phlegmatic demeanour will be used against us as we stand, unresponsive, in front of a charge sheet of atrocities that goes back centuries and will continue well into this one.

I think it is fair to say that we are way past the end of the beginning and even the beginning of the end; the country, perhaps the entire western world, is on a slide into oblivion. Pop up from any East End tube station and you will alight in a bazaar of some kind, the jolly Cockney barrow boys displaced by the dour vendors of souks straight out of the middle ages.

Dare to travel by public transport and you take your life in your hands, and whatever you do, do not attract the interest of the machete-wielding youths whose fiefdom you have entered. And don’t expect fellow travellers to take your side should you be so unlucky; they are more likely to film your beating than assist in your salvation. Police, you suggest? Where?

Woe betides those who misgender somebody, use incorrect pronouns or meekly suggest that biological women ought to have their own exclusive private spaces. Forget arguments based on solid facts or the application of healthy scepticism; your considered opinion is powerless in the face of articles of faith. If the great ‘scientist’ Professor Greta of Thunder says so, the world will be in flames by Friday.

Eat meat and expect to be denounced by your own offspring. Carelessly use the commonplace words and phrases from your youth and await the summons to the HR department. Stand your ground and pick up your cards on the way out. Pay reparation, in obeisance if not in filthy lucre, or face banishment forever from the world of work.

Storm coming...

The World Economic Forum suggests that in the future you will own nothing and you will be happy. We scoffed when we heard this in their plan for the Great Reset, but how secure do you feel in the ownership of your assets now? And are you happy? It is the time of the year for looking ahead to what the future brings, but this is no New Year’s forecast. This is today. Happy New Year.

2 comments:

  1. From property rights spring all others. Own nothing and be "happy" means have no rights and be "happy".

    "Happy" of course is an infinitely flexible concept if defined by a privileged in group (or rather a collection of infantilised, useful idiots who imagine that they will constitute this in group) for application to everybody else.

    I don't understand - I truly, genuinely don't - the mentality of those who believe that buying a tossler from the grossly inflated pay from their wanky non-job will somehow bestow immunity from the deprivation they assume for the populace at large.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. How can you tell if somebody drives a Tesla?

      Don't worry; they'll tell you.

      The smug superiority of it all speaks volumes.

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