30th April 2019
Once upon a time I had an idea for a scenario for a story about the Undead.
The scenario addressed two questions: where would the Undead get their energy from, and how would they expend that (no doubt) scarce energy.
I posited that undead humans would be like fungi, and get their energy somehow from being deposited in decaying matter.
I then dismissed the idea that that they would ever have enough energy to be a biped, let alone lift their arms in front of them.
Instead, they would jolt and writhe around in these pools of excrement and other compost, like so many overgrown maggots in a tray.
And as fungi need no light, all this could happen in pitch blackness.
Masses of unthinking, aimless people convulsing around in shit and in darkness.
But not knowing what to do with this (admittedly) dramatic image, I left the story unfinished for another day.
The image came back to me today when thinking of Brexit.
Somebody on Twitter said the UK had a Zombie government.
But it is not only a Zombie government.
Brexit policy is a Zombie policy.
Furthermore, by reason of the lack of a government majority and the lack of time to do anything other than Brexit, we also have Zombie policy everywhere.
And all this in the framework of Zombie politics, with the two main parties drained of political vitality, going through what motions their lack of energy can muster.
Our whole polity thrashing around, with the slightest approximation to a polity with any vitality.
And like me, with my unfinished short story, nobody knows quite what to do with this extraordinary situation.
Thank you for reading me on this new(ish) blog, where I am hoping to blog almost daily.
I expect to be blogging here more often, instead of spending time on Twitter.
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