The End of Summer 2020

On the thirtieth of June I went to the local praia fluvial up in the mountains and saw them putting up the taffeta umbrellas on the grass bank beside the natural water pool ready for this year’s summer bathers; today I went up there and saw the workmen taking them back down…

Two months..!

Really?

Since spring I have gained residence in another country, done up the house, planted the garden, completed two novels (one, KEY OF LOVE is currently available, the other, P is with an agent), treated a very bad case of Hepatitis C (following years of mis-diagnoses), all but finished a barn conversion – and yet…it feels like nothing at all has been accomplished!

Why..?

I think it’s because, despite everything, the world appears to be in such an on-going mess: endless wars, starvation, disease, systematic destruction of the environment – all, at least in part, the result of English-speaking peoples continually voting in corrupted and corrupting governments – with concomitant COVID lockdowns, so that regardless of individual effort, we keep ending up at square one…

To think that forty years ago it seemed the time was ripe in the west – and by extension, the rest of the world – to build on any societal and technical advances which had been made in the decades following WW2 – only to find that here we are back in the same old situation of grinding poverty and unnecessary conflict.

Such realities really do wear a person down, and maybe they are supposed to.

The one person who has done most to reveal the utter corruption of our so-called representatives is now sitting in virtual solitary confinement in a British jail awaiting illegal extradition to the Land of the Free: Julian Assange, while his jailers enjoy all the fruits of their ill-gotten gains, unreported in the mainstream, complicit press.

Summer comes to an end, nothing changes, and we keep having to challenge apparently freely-elected individuals who really do not have the electorates’ best interests at heart but will, in fact, tell any lie they can get away with in order to hang on to power.

Yet again, we find that our only oppressors are members of our own society and that any lack of social progress is entirely down to our own feeble choices.

Oh, for another Winter of Discontent!

Books by GLYN F RIDGLEY @ Amazon and bookstores worldwide

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