I’m not talking about just technology here. I do remember being taught on the abacus by my father though. I also remember him bringing home the brand new calculator they got at work to show me. Bless his cotton socks, he carried it home on the crowded tram for 45 minutes, it’s weight able to give any fit man a hernia. It was a monster of a thing. Do you remember the very old cash registers where you clicked a button in each column to calculate the sale? Remember how heavy and huge they were? This was double one of those.
So technology has changed. But these are not the times of which I speak.
The times of war. The times of mateship. The times of neighbourhood. The times of community. These times are gone.
If there were a war, the generation that would either enlist or most likely be conscripted are all stoned on the couch. Forgetaboutit.
The times of mateship have been replaced by I don’t need mates, I need to get ahead. You’re only handy as a step upwards. If you get left behind, suffer in your jocks.
I have only met my neighbours once, to be polite. I don’t know who lives 2 doors down, across the road, or around the corner. I don’t want to know. They don’t either. As long as you’re quiet and don’t blow up your meth labs, we’re all good.
Community is now online. Casseroles don’t actually get dropped to the door of a person who is bereaving. They are sent an emoji of one with a thinking of you heart. Fuck that.
These real times are gone. These real emotions and sentiments are gone. You can defend all you like but unless you’re actually turning up at funerals of the young that are dying from loneliness and despair, I challenge you to accept, that the times of my father, the times that made this country great, are gone. We have lost them at our own peril. In our own politically correct entitlement to more, better, offensiveness and defensiveness. For our piece over yours.
Carry on.
