mistaken identity

I’m starting to sense the feeling of impotence suffered by the aliens in War of the Worlds as the giant metal legs of indestructible technology started to bend at the knee and the ground came rushing upwards. Invisible, deadly adversaries are incomprehensible outside of fiction and their sudden clear presence among us illuminates our fragile mortality and sends us into hiding . A generation unused to confinement and imminent threat is now reduced to listening to broadcasts, reading the news, twittering, tweeting, skyping, FBing, Fting, anyeffingthinging in an attempt to make sense of what is happening; why won’t “they” give us clarity, instructions, answers, help….., never has the analogy of the flock of sheep and shepherd been so apposite. Except there are no shepherds….just others of us that our voices and votes angrily or ecstatically elected and from whom we expected more than they have to give because the difference between them and us is so much less than we needed to believe . The purveyors of Populism have denied the worth of expert opinion and still, even in extremis, are biting their tongues rather than asking as many of them as is possible to come to our aid whilst simultaneously having the sense to firmly sweep the dark legion of their “advisers” out of the back door as so much dust and waste which is all they are.

About Food,Photography & France

Photographer and film maker living in France. After a long career in London, my wife and I have settled in the Vendee, where we run residential digital photography courses with a strong gastronomic flavour.
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8 Responses to mistaken identity

  1. Bizzy says:

    All true. I can’t figure out why I’m taking it all so calmly. Maybe because I’m not sick, have enough food and medicine for now, a stable — for now — income, no kids at home… You get the idea. When the gin runs out, I may start to worry.

  2. Extremely well put. Thank you. — James

  3. Eha says:

    Funny, Roger – inexplicably at the moment I do not mind having ‘been there’ during WWIi . . . until last year’s bushfires, this tear’s floods and now this . . .I had no idea of the ‘schooling’ I had received way back or how it would stand by me now . . . best . . .

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