No way back

And so, the blogging journey starts again…

Here I am, sat at our kitchen table, quiet music playing and coffee made.


But (and it’s no accident) the book next to the computer, which I’ve started to read, is The Conspiracy Against The Human Race by Thomas Ligotti.

And that’s at least in part how I feel now; namely, that someone or something has us all in a vice-grip of destruction and it doesn’t matter the level of protest, where the money flows (it always stays in the same few hands) or how many more Global statements are made, we’re headed for a doomsday scenario of such epic proportion that by the time it comes among us — I’ll be long gone — the people who bear the brunt of its destructive power will be practically lost for anthropocentric, death-dealing words:

“They were all mad. Completely off their f* heads.”

And you have to be, don’t you, to think we can keep going with the human-centric, neo-capitalist experiment and think everything will be fine.

But you know this, right?

And yet, we’re powerless to stop the supertanker of destruction lapping up the biosphere in a way that’s mind-numbing or in my case, causing me no end of psychic and emotional suffering.

In fact, holding this lunacy and not wanting to exit stage left sounds quite appealing but my time will come soon enough. In the meantime, I’m going to, if it’s not already obvious, make it my business to allow my misanthropic focus to find a home. In that space, you’ll see me talk and speak about human exceptionalism, antinatalism — both of the soft and brutal type — and any other mechanism to draw attention to the shitstorm we’ve created for ourselves over the aeons.

I know that’s at odds with a more soporific message invoking compassion, kindness and love but I’m practically done with that line of enquiry. I mean, if we were all going to wake from our narcissistic slumber and administer life-saving treatment to our corrupt psyche, we’d have done it by now. Just think how long we’ve had religion, spiritual gurus and all that saccharine-infused pop psychology. And it ain’t made a happeth of difference.

Of course, as I’ve said so very often, I may have this all wrong and something will emerge to save us from the apocalypse or the next pandemic but I don’t think so. I really don’t think so.

We’re headed in one direction.

The end.

— Julian