COVID-19 Journal: Day 84

I'm in the odd situation of seeing a tv show set during the pandemic on telly. It's called Staged and actually, it's great. I'm in it too, so I'm enjoying seeing other people who I don't know in the same situation I am in. There's also a plot and that's because it's a very clever adaptation of Six Characters in Search of an Author.

I remember when all this shit started going down and I was wondering about the effect of us all seeing each other in our domestic spaces mediated by a screen and overall, I've really enjoyed that aspect of all this. It might be my favourite part. Except perhaps the doing giant rides around London part. I'm now looking at Samuel L. Jackson's couch as he's chatting with David Tennant who's sitting in his backyard. It's good because a lot of us are in the same boat. We know what the boat feels like. We've all experienced boredom and threat together. We're all stuck. (Except maybe that's starting to break apart as the rules get muddier.) It's a very widely situation that's happened quickly, to everyone. We're still in our relatively homogenous social circles, but, we bust out into professional domestic circles, and even into celebrity domestic circles. Certainly there are poses being struck, but, you know, Kelly Clarkson sings in her bathroom because it has the best acoustics; Erykah Badu has a front garden, etc.

Took a lovely ride to meet Annette halfway for the afternoon. In spite of the windy wind it was sunny in all aspects, with fat fluffy clouds. Had cold pizza which is more delicious now than it has ever been in my entire life because everything's so mundane.

So, lots and lots and lots of us are in very similar situations - maybe for the first time ever? - we have this extremity of the aftermath of George Floyd's murder, we have new conversations and new awareness and new ideas threatening the establishment, we have no end in sight - in London but not New Zealand etc - and we have a really big opportunity to change the game. There's hope against hope to make real progress, and history will tell us that's when establishment heels dig in. We're seeing that. The abhorrent show in Parliament Square, London today. 

"We do not have the time for insanity."
"Life is crammed with insanity."
"What the hell do you mean?"

There are huge global protests. Continuing. I'm still frightened to go on the streets with hundreds or thousands of my fellow protesters. I remain worried for those that have. I'm also worried about the criticism of 'people making reading lists' or the aggravating 'learning out loud' of things that Black folks have learned so deeply. I want to act. I won't let it be a firework that burns out. I feel though, like I will be most useful if I learn more about what racism is and where it lives and how to kill it so I can be anti-racist from now on. That's going to take me a bit of time. (James Baldwin certainly fairly asked how much time do you want for your progress?) Now, today, I don't know where to stab it and my knife is wood. I - perhaps many of us - are in search of an author at the same time as wanting to act.

(I bet she's Angela Davis.)