I went for a tour of the neighbourhood on my velocipede yesterday, ending at Dockyard Market. In a short ride I moved between luxury and the most basic standard of living. To imagine there is some magic key to the future that can appeal to all these people would be overly optimistic. But it’s not always clear which people are most likely to fight for the future. By the end of the morning I decided that I spend too much time wondering what should be done, and not enough time wondering what I want to do.
One thing I do enjoy doing is pruning fruit trees. Yesterday I did some work on a few pear trees this afternoon, dwarfed and cankered though they are. Today I pruned a friend’s apple tree, though he does not want the apples it will produce. It makes me feel good to sneak this rural life into Londres.
This evening I spent a long time on the phone to the Dancy Meditator. We talked about years ago, when Londres was young and it was possible to have fun, before the rentiers won. It all seems a long time ago now. Remember when there were squats everywhere? Remember when half the drugs were still legal? Remember when you could get four pints for ten pounds? It’s a sign of age of course, but the statistics show we were objectively better off then, before the house prices went stratospheric. We are now in the age of the rentier.