Funfare for the Common Man

Deal with it. Accept it. That’s the reality. In all likelihood. ‘…as we barrel toward the first anniversary of the World Health Organization declaring the coronavirus a pandemic, the physical consequences of extended disruption, isolation, and stress have begun to make themselves known en masse, in doctors’ offices and telehealth video calls.’ Closing in on a year of this, with some kind of end in sight, hopefully, and we aren’t really sure of the ramifications as of yet. Everyone’s suffering. To some extent. Everyone’s struggling. To some extent. We’ve all got our issues and problems. But face it: your problems are inconsequential. We’re all wrapped up in our own solipsistic worlds. We’ve all got our own stuff to worry about. A month ago I came across yet another pandemic-themed article, from the Atlantic , entitled ‘Yes, the Pandemic Is Ruining Your Body :  Quarantine is turning you into a stiff, hunched-over, itchy, sore, headachy husk.’ You don’t need to read it. The title says...

This is part 5 (of 10) of my August 2020 Challenge. We’re at the halfway point. I am trying to fit all of my posts into the context of a broader narrative. In other words, that is an unnecessarily pretentious way of saying I hope they all link together, in a way.  Yesterday was Part 1: Embracing the wilderness. For some context, you may to read that post if you haven’t already. There is a very tenuous link to this post. Very . Part 2: Tolerance in a post-truth society: where do we draw the line? Natalia said that she ‘wanted to ask [me] to write smth on the issue of tolerance in the context of post-truth society (where do we draw the line and stuff)’ and I thought this was a great opportunity to make a tenuous link between this and being out in the wild. (why not?) This is a fascinating yet troubling area to grapple with, one that is often on my mind. In fact, it was on my mind a lot last week. When you’re out in nature wandering (and wondering), your mind also tends to wander (an...

During my first year at university, in Boston, I went to a lot of gigs. I was really into Britpop at the time – Blur, Oasis, Suede and Pulp in particular – and they were massive in the UK, selling out decent-sized arenas. But the beauty of seeing them in America, where they were less popular, was that they played smaller venues of less than 1000 people, right at the height of their popularity. I loved it. I didn’t only listen to Britpop – I had my other [guilty? shameful?] pleasures, one of whom was The Offspring. I’m only slightly embarrassed to admit to liking them back then – this was in 1994-95 – but it could be worse. They weren’t (aren’t?) that bad, are they? Surely Nickelback, Matchbox Twenty and Blink 182 are worse, right? (at the time their big hits were ‘Self-Esteem’ and ‘Come Out and Play’) Anyway, they were far more popular than the usual British bands I went to see, and so were playing in a much bigger venue: the Worcester Centrum. My friend Simon and I – we went ...