45th And Final

If I were still on social media, it would amuse me this week to attempt to popularise the phrase “the 45th and final President of the United States.”

Let me be clear: this is because I am a shitty human being who is amused by terrible things.  But it’s less offensive than that Weimar shit currently being perpetrated by people who love CABARET but don’t remember how that story ended.

It’s a week to consider the late Mark Fisher’s version of capitalist realism:  that we’re so deeply incarcerated within our current societal reality that we don’t have space to consider any alternatives, and therefore keep trying to work within and fix the same busted systems, instead of building out new ones.

Imagine if you were an American, watching the inauguration and thinking, 45th and final.  That’d be a guide to thinking outside your model pretty damn fast.

Meanwhile, my own country is busy trying to dial time back to approximately 1970.  Which, as I mentioned to a friend today, is the timeframe I’m most reminded of when I watch the film CHILDREN OF MEN. That’s pretty much how I remember London looking.

Another friend texted me this morning to tell me she planned to learn how to farm.


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