Myopia

Let's give this theme of short-sightedness a metaphorical interpretation.

There's a General Election in the offing. It's a priceless opportunity for Britons to exercise our democratic right to vote for a national government that will shape our fortunes as citizens for the next however many years.

I hope the campaign will be lively, articulate, honest, inclusive, far-reaching, passionate even; with electioneering that focuses on policies rather than personalities, balanced debates that explore the key social and economic challenges facing 21st century Britain, journalism that engages people's emotional intelligence (not just their emotions), politicians who act with integrity and Spin Doctors who can play a mean guitar. It would be refreshing if we were offered a political blueprint that fosters social cohesion, rewards enterprise and initiative, sustains the less-privileged, cares for the environment, prioritises education for life and generally enhances the common weal in the long term.

I worry that we might be served up a campaign that is cynical, partisan, jingoistic, preys on fears and prejudices and fails to connect meaningfully with a significant percentage of the population.

Regardless of the nature of the upcoming campaign, I hope everybody reading this will cast their vote in May. I could never understand why anyone would opt not to vote. Sometimes, admittedly, it might seem to be an exercise in endorsing the lesser of several evils, but better an informed democratic choice than an apathetic abdication of that right.

Myopia

Welcome to Myopia!

This is no country

for wise men.

If the fuel holds out

there may a be short-sight-seeing tour

of our great excesses -

a chance to catch the fevered star

in brilliant, fulminating flow,

waxing lyrical as our resistance folds;

participation perhaps in a goose-step chase

up some blind ideological alley;

VIP tickets to one of our infamous wild night rallies,

watching us burn bridges, books and babies. 

Fear is short-sighted.

We never thought

we would end up this way.

The clatter of the jackboot,

incessant beating of the drum,

and rumble of our death machines

makes cowards of us all.

We only wanted easy answers,

cosy lies;

but in the final analysis

here is what we find -

that too much massed ovation

has made a nation blind.

So warm the ghost of freezing conscience,

warn your countrymen of our despair.

Help prevent Myopia from ever happening there.

 

Thanks for reading. Have a good week, S :-)