It’s so good – and knackering – to be on the road and the bike again. From Hexham in the far English North across a sunlit Hadrian’s Wall and to Kielder Water some 40 miles into a determined headwind
Sun in the morning casting a bulky shadow of self, heavily-loaded panniers and Raven (readers of the old blog know her as my steed), and then slow, slow but rewarding progress, knowing that it always takes a couple of days to get into the swing.
Been thinking a lot on the bike, pedalling left-right-left-right in a bilateral stimulation sort of way, about Why Blog, especially when I have concluded that it’s too late anyway to avert catastrophe for humankind in this century.
Well, I realised this blog is actually more for me than for you. There just are Things I have and want to say, and if there are folk out there who find that faintly stimulating, or annoying, or inspiring (main thing they’re reading it), then that’s good enough.
And the Thing I’m Thing-king of today, mainly, is how we are approaching the death of (most of) our species just as many individuals approach their own death.
My father is dying as I write this, aged 87 and with just days to live. He hasn’t wanted to know that the cancer is back. Should we, as fractured family, have insisted that he understands this is the end?
I’m uncomfortable seeing him off so unconscious, although not really much change there. But the family concensus is, no need to distress him unnecessarily.
But what if, as I’ve written elsewhere, our collective survival had depended on his knowing and acting upon (of course, as of today, it’s too late for him personally) the knowledge that he, and we, are dying?
We would all have been much less ready to collude with his denial. Yet, with the demise of our species, that’s what we’re doing when we choose not to speak out, loudly, about how urgent and mortal is the danger we’re in.
And is there any sign that the public, or the media, are getting the plot? Not really.
This morning, Sunday, BBC Radio 4 finished the 0700 bulletin with an item on the dramatic breakup of a portion of the Antarctic ice shelf, much earlier than predicted. This, said the reporter, could have serious implications.
End of the news. Next item we turn to Jacqui Smith’s husband’s porn video expenses and Jade Goody’s funeral. Much easier to deal with and less frightening over the cornflakes.
But also part of a much wider failure of journalistic responsibility.
So, back on the bike for 20 more miles today. To reach Inverness in six days, I have to average 60 miles a day. Hope the wind tomorrow is quieter and my legs less like jelly.
Sent from my Windows Mobile® phone.