a prelude for july (scenes from an apocalypse, cont'd)

The fact that we live in a boring dystopia is nothing new, but it's often not emphasized the extent to which it is, in many ways, more dangerous precisely because it's boring. Washington (among other states) is beginning to reopen, and predictably this has led to an increase in COVID-19 infections; there was no reason for reopening apart from the fact that people are bored, that companies are complaining, that the stagnation felt endless. Boredom is also why people have tuned out of the protests, which are still ongoing; it's why there was wall-to-wall coverage of the autonomous zone in Capitol Hill when it first happened but almost no coverage of noted bootlicker Mayor Jenny Durkan ordering it dismantled. Changes happened, some of them meaningful, some of them insultingly meaningless, and perhaps they will even continue happening.

It's July now. It still feels like June, which is to say it's still cool and cloudy with some periods of sun, some hints at the heat to come, but within the first two weeks of July, summer will come in earnest. The clouds clear, the sun comes out, and nothing changes until September. Sometimes there's smoke, sometimes the days are hotter than others, but the key aspect of summer is that it's endless. A time of stagnation, a time of listlessness, a time where the days stretch on too long. A time when you realize that you are in it for the long haul.

So this month's theme will be stagnation, as we watch our dying empire stagnate and fester, as we watch the heat of the summer settle in and refuse to leave, as we hunker down against the reality that our society is not capable of solving even the simplest of crises. There is no end in sight.