The reality of Partygate
Martin Fletcher in the New Statesman:
Partygate is not about left versus right, or Remainers versus Brexiteers. It is about decency versus indecency, honesty versus dishonesty, right versus wrong. Mirza, educated at an Oldham comprehensive, gets that even if Rees-Mogg, educated at Britain’s most prestigious public school, does not.
Exactly. If Johnson continues clinging on, he and his moral vacuum of a circle will continue undermining whatever good reputation the Conservative party has left.
Why political activists spend so much time fighting their own side
Note that Ataöv suggests that differences don’t cause conflicts; conflicts create differences. Members of a group seize on differences in order to affirm their own identity. A feedback loop ensues: differences are invented or enlarged, which stimulates further animosity, which magnifies differences, and so on.
And
There is evidence that political radicalism correlates with high anxiety, which seems to push people towards the security of a rigid political identity. Some folk just get very anxious if they don’t know where the boundary between their group ends and the other begins. They want to be able to say I’m with these guys. And that often means saying, I’m definitely not with those guys standing next to me.
Giving myself a commute
One of the clichés of working for ourself is that, when you’re self-employed, your boss is an arsehole. And, in my case, that’s true. Traditionally the beginning of the year is one of my quietest periods, and so I’m able to chill out a little, attend to some self-care stuff, and try not to worry about work picking up soon.
This year, for a couple of reasons, I’ve really had to it the ground running.
And so, the work creep starts.
I start working in the evenings as well as during the day. And then I start feeling guilty for not working the weekend. And then I stop taking time away from my desk during the day.
Self-granted respite
This is not why I decided to go self-employed a decade ago. Hell, I used to only work a four day week, so I could spend an extra day with my daughters, until school stole them away from me.
So, today, I’m pushing back. It won’t help me, my bank balance nor my clients if I crash into Easter in an exhausted, burnt-out state. So, after I dropped the girls off at school, I restarted my “morning commute” beach walk.
I’m going to try to make that a daily commitment. Every day I’m here at home, I do that walk after dropping off the girls, or as soon as I practically can, should I have a 9am meeting. It’s a small step to defending myself against cyclical burn-out, but (another cliché), long journeys begin with small steps.
Wish me luck.
Currently reading: Nature Cure by Richard Mabey 📚
This is an engrossing read. To write with such honesty and directness about the depression that nearly destroyed his life… Would anyone have this courage now in such a judgemental age?
Getting up early on a Sunday t9 take the girls to their swimming classes is challenging, but this morning it paid off. Stunning golden light across a frosty Sussex landscape, followed by seeing a bird of prey still roosting in the trees at Lancing College.
Just started: Storyland: A New Mythology of Britain by Amy Jeffs 📚
I’ve been looking forward to this one. 🤞🏻Hope it lives up to my expectations.
Finished reading: The Farthest Shore by Alex Roddie 📚
Excellent book — and timely. Full review at the weekend.
“To be very online is to be in a toxic collective solitude where everyone is battling their own demons in their own infinite echo chamber, their own confirmation-bias machine. I felt as if I’d broken free of all that for a while. Solitude is good and valuable in the right proportion, but so is connection. Ideas might grow in silence but they can’t thrive without other people.”
— The Farthest Shore by Alex Roddie 📚
While enjoying Winterwatch on the BBC, I got to wondering why summer is the only season that doesn’t get a Watch. And it, turns out, there are two reasons.
“I also saw someone else describe NFTs as “content-free DRM” and reader, I howled.”
