The clocks go back. To the 1980's, or the 1880's, or even the 1918's; who can tell? We've got the unemployment of the first, the social attitudes of the second, and the virus of the last. What a time to be alive, barely.
There's talk, from the beleaguered Dr Fauci, that a vaccine may be ready by December. But the sting in the tail is in how long it will take to distribute. The more infectious the disease and the more people infected, the greater the requirement to provide herd immunity.
We have poisoned ourselves.
Every day now, across the world it seems, the virus is breaking new, grim, records. It is surging. It is clear: capitalism has no answer to this crisis. We must change course else our leaders will kill us. Every day, in Britain, reinforces the notion that we are in for a carnage laden Christmas. I take no pleasure in saying that but by all accounts deaths could be in the several hundreds/day by December. Can you imagine what Christmas will be like if we get that bad - or worse? There is no way, surely even for this horrific government, to do nothing. Yet each day they leave it, we get one day closer to that time.
I fear they are playing with fire. This isn't something Johnson can just bury his head in the sane about. He can't just pick up and have a nice holiday. I don't even think resignation would be possible - at least for the sake of his awful party. What does even his emince grise think? Does Dominic Cummings even care? It's hard to imagine!
And yet...
People are out in the streets. They are shopping. They are drinking in pubs, eating in restaurants. I saw it last night. Gosh these are strange times; I went for a walk down a regular route only this time in the evening for the first time in seven months. Such a simple thing, yet made strange. Past the pubs, seeing people inside, orderly yet convivial, past the newly opened restaurant I was sure was doomed to failure, again busy.
It makes me oddly sad to see that restaurant. I can't help thinking they will go bust by the end of the year. I don't want that to happen and I don't bear them ill will; I don't even know them. But to open a restaurant at this time? I guess they were committed even before this started. I hope I'm wrong.
I hope I'm wrong about a lot of things. We are in it now, the summer has ended. The clocks have reverted to where we are at the start of this crisis, much as society has. All that was achieved has been curelly wasted, reset thanks to the governmental obsession with profit. It is almost as if there was never a summer. Only, now, a bleak winter.
Oh well, happy days!
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