It’s not the End of the World

This morning, I’m waiting for a man to come and install The Future in our house. Not gonna lie here, there’s a bit of discomfort over the Internet of Things finally making it into the family home, but it was going to happen eventually. It does make sense, all down to the point where the power goes out… but then, we’re not paying for electricity anyway. The future ought to be less robots and more actual work, but if we could get drones to go pick up all the rubbish and then recycle it more effectively? I am all for the plan.

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As I cycled from London to Southend, the reality of rubbish became hugely apparent. There were country lanes literally full of this kind of waste, dumped by hedgerows and choking up fields. The amount of fly tipping really was staggering, to the point I’m amazed that the County Council isn’t tacking the issue. Of course, there’s not enough money in budgets and the manpower to clear this stuff, but once this country is forced to feed and care for itself post-Brexit, this shit will matter.

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The reality of my county is, like it or not, a lot of people who don’t give a fuck about anything except themselves. Cycling through Chigwell, past massive houses with security gates and CCTV, the disparity becomes all the more obvious. The 20-summat girl and her boyfriend, waking their dog… except she carried the poor pooch the entire time. I know that making sweeping judgements based on superficial evidence is bad and wrong, but if you make your wealth so conspicuous and your loathing of others so obvious… what are us poor people to do?

I had a lot of time to think on that bike ride. There’s tons to be done, both in mind and body: complacency is dangerous. Just doing enough won’t help you in the end, however much that might feel like it’s at least something. I listen to people who bemoan this and that, complaining that other people don’t see their point of view or are somehow being errant in their thinking, and it all comes back to the same, unavoidable conclusion. Stop telling other people how to live their lives and fix yours first.

As that’s never going to happen, there comes a need to compromise.

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One day, if it all works out, I’ll be in print. This will not bring fame and fortune. There will not be millions of adoring followers. I will simply have achieved an objective and then it will be time to move onto the next one. History does not remember everybody, with good reason, but a special place is always marked out for those individuals who placed others ahead of themselves. If you want to be remembered, fix yourself and then go fix others.

Nobody will care for the selfish except themselves, and that’s only right and fair in the end.