The government, and our whole UK society, is facing a terrible Hobson's choice... we can't REALLY let tens of thousands of people die without proper NHS support in the next few months, as the Covid19 numbers soar in our cities, can we? Yet, if we put in place the measures that NEED to be taken, from a purely moral, compassionate and medical perspective - circuit breakers, and lockdowns - the economy will collapse into a great depression, or worse, and millions will be unemployed, many homeless, and in despair - because we do not have the money to support the NHS and furlough everyone and keep all businesses and professions afloat... or do we? Well, there's Trident, and the royal lands and properties... and art and literary treasures. The UK's value is priceless, it could borrow whatever it takes (remember those words?). So, in a sense, the hesitation is not logical, or practical, but scrupulous to an extreme... it is, as they say, hedging a bet... or rather, the government wants the cake and eat it strategy - to have safety, and to have a strong economy. Both are incompatible for the time being. So, there is only one choice, but we sit on a fence, just as we do with global heating... because the choice is frightening and uncomfortable.
A poem for my mother, July 15 When she was dying And I was in a different country I dreamt I was there with her Flying over the ocean very quickly, And arriving in the room like a dream And I was a dream, but the meaning was more Than a dream has – it was a moving over time And land, over water, to get love across Fast enough, to be there, before she died, To lean over the small, huddled figure, In the dark, and without bothering her Even with apologies, and be a kiss in the air, A dream of a kiss, or even less, the thought of one, And when I woke, none of this had happened, She was still far distant, and we had not spoken.
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