I rejoin Moby at the last quarter of his autobiography and he is suffering from (musical) performance anxiety. Everything he does feels wrong (probably autosuggested from his 1995 album that has almost the same title); 'for some reason everything I'd recorded so far sounded terrible and unusable' and an admission that both recreationally and mentally, things were becoming unstuck; 'I was drinking almost nightly and experiencing constant panic attacks - (Back) in 1984 when I was a philosophy major at UConn, (the panic attacks) were debilitating, so I dropped out amd moved home [...] I drank and the panic persisted. I took Valium and it persisted. I drove my moped around Darien listening to Echo and the Bunnymen cassettes and it persisted' (p.311).
At this point, you can't help but feel that Moby is lining up for a big crash across every aspect of his life.
( Collapse )
However, insights are starting to emerge and it becomes plain as to the ingrained reasons behind the depths of his despair. I must admit, this book has picked up in leaps and bounds. Still think it needs editing, but at least I feel drawn into his life and want to read it now.
Well, that's an understatement really. The news has rocked the EU to its roots. Facebook has absolutely exploded as so has other social media platforms. Real vitriolic stuff from both sides, family and friends divided, posts sickening enough for me to pull the plug on it for a long time. The Pound has dived, the Market's tanked and many a hue and cry over splilt milk. Scotland are considering their own second referendum only twenty months after the last one and top Northern Ireland politicians are reconsidering their boundry lines - so much the fear for this troublesome poll. Not totally unsurprisingly, David Cameron resigned at 8:20 this morning - looking like the most reviled and kicked PM since Maggie T. was ousted from No. 10 in 1990.
Shellshocked, I DO wonder now just what is going to happen to a) the rest of the EU, as others are rumoured to leave (Dutch for one); b) the UK, especially as it is not as United as it once was. 72% of people voted - this is a massive turn out, which proves to me one thing - people do not have the confidence that ministers from any faction are listening to them. The higher brow newspapers are insinuating that only the thick and the old have voted to leave - which I think is a condescending and pretty derogatory tone. Some of the medium brow and tabloids are victorious, but (they ask) at what cost?
I was a conchy abstainer. One of the 25,000 who deliberately marked their card to show objection to the crass comments and lies. I never seriously considered that we WOULD wake up as a Brexit nation - I really thought that Cameron et al had steamrollered most people to vote remain. Why didn't I vote in the conventional way? Because I didn't like how these arguments were becoming polarized. 'Brexit' had a point, but could not promise what the outcome could be - plus there were ugly bouts of xenophobia abound. The 'Remain' Campaign did not convince enough influential people, nay put many off with their steamrollering approach to appeal to the public, wheeling every VIP except the Dalai Lama to remain. I hasten to add that 'Brexit' too were very heavy-handed with their delivery, seemingly promising everything, but I suspect delivering us a pup.
It has been done now and now it is time to stop flapping and start to charter this ship through exceptionally choppy waters. Things need to stablise here, but the rumbles are getting louder and I wouldn't be surprised that there were now bouts of civil unrest as a result. Since the Jo Cox murder, I worry about crazies taking matters into their own hands. I myself have heard several yells of 'White Power!' (or variations on a theme) from cars passing my door and I am in a relatively quiet borough of rural Cornwall.
Deeply worrying times.
I have deactivated my Facebook account for the next seven days, with the possible intention of not going back on it. I have had enough of notifications of hatred from both sides. It flashes up on my pc, my laptop and my phone; it happens when I study, when I eat, when I am out and about and when I sleep. Maybe I am too thin-skinned, but I have had enough of listening to squabbles - petty or otherwise.
I can't bear all of this terrible in-fighting. And fence-sitters gain no friends, alas :-/