Politics in the last few weeks has seemed to roll into a series of banal and apparently pointless crises. Even more than usual. The archaic interpersonal world of Westminster inhabits a different timezone from we bien pensant normies. It’s like time-travelling back with Thomas Cromwell to a world of Tower of London imprisonments, torture with heated metal implements, royal decree and imbecilic and self-entitled twits and tweetery, scheming courtiers, inexplicable rituals and ghastly plotting villains, some, occasionally, wearing tights.
Ordah! Ordah! Orrrdaaah!
Above it all rises Caroline Lucas, our Queen of the Green Deal. Wise, courteous, with the kindly expressive features of a cat warming herself by the crackling fire in a log cottage, in a pristine forest, full of ancient gnarly ent-like trees, their sculpted roots blooming with glowing moss. And Caroline beckoning weary travellers through the door to feed them delicious vegan stews. How is it possible that Theresa May could be our Prime Minister when Queen Caroline breathes the same air in Westminster’s Ship of Fools?
Caroline knows it is simple. Retreat from the greatest unprovoked act of self-harm in the Nation’s recent history. Put the vote back to what is referred to, sometimes humorously, as ‘The People.’ Register the vote to Remain in Europe (at the heart of, that is). Sit back with a cold beer and enjoy the spectacle of the Conservative Party tearing itself to pieces-hopefully terminally. Then we can return to the business of destroying the last vestiges of life on the planet. But also let us extend the vote to 16 yr olds. Most of the voices of wisdom I’ve heard in the past few weeks have been those of children and young people. Greta Thunberg, please take a bow. Job done. Despair ye not!
And also here’s a cry out to Neil Gaiman whose 90 minute interview on the Tim Ferris Show Podcast was one of my all time podcast highlights.
Neil is a literary ubiquity. But unlike most ubiquitous people (think Nigel Farage) he is actually rather brilliant. Like me he loves to write with fountain pens and left the Moleskine notebooks for a Leuchtturm 1917 (the ink doesn’t bleed through you see). I also love Japanese Tomoe River paper-thin as a butterfly’s wing. Maybe I’ll tell Neil about it.
Unlike me he writes with the capacity of an express train. As he explained he repairs to his writing hut at the bottom of the garden, allows himself to ‘not write’, that is he may look out the window as long as he wants. He can hum a merry tune and examine the wallpaper but apart from writing he allows himself to do nothing else including leaving the writing space. In a world of screaming podcasting ex-Special Forces motivators his practice seems extraordinarily kindly and effective. He writes his first drafts in ink. He is one of the most effective and successful writers on the Planet. He makes good art, even if it is sometimes very weird. And on top of all this he appears a kind and gentle and generous human being. I hate him! Only joking!
And he spoke very movingly of his friend and mentor Sir Terry Pratchett and his great spirit and his final struggle with alzheimers leading to his death finally on 12th March 2015. I saw him in his countrywide tour in Brighton in 2014 and even while clearly struggling particularly with his balance and speech, his humour shone through.
‘Good Omens’ written by Terry and Neil is about to explode onto our screens. Neil recommends reading the book beforehand. I certainly intend to.
Well done Tim Ferris too for doing such a brilliant interview. You just sat back and let your guest shine. You don’t often see that. You don’t get that in Westminster!
And so finally may I recommend ear plugs. Needed to keep the screeching, baying hordes from disturbing your morning and evening walks.
Ordah! Ordah! Orrdaaah!
But, of it all, gentle readers, do not worry overmuch. This too, shall pass.
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