I realise I am most tardy in celebrating this here but they are OUT. As in, they have been rescued. I mean, I know they have been for a while now but can’t recall the last time I held my breath for something like this. I feel very much like I've only just now finished exhaling, days after the fact.
I have dabbled in the submarine sports on and off over the years ever since my dad taught me to dive as a sprog. That shit’s never easy - especially if you dislike small, dangerous spaces and/or repeating bass keys. You know, that and not being able to breathe that which surrounds you. Such a feat should be taken lightly only at your own peril, especially for those so young and under what must have been immense physical and mental duress. I can only imagine what it must have been like for them to be that special kind of alone, for that length of time, waiting with little to no hope before the divers found them. I doff my literal and metaphysical hat to both rescuers and the recently ensconced.
The Darkest Taco and I went to see a special screening of Marjane Satrapi's ‘Persepolis’ at Genesis the other night. I read the graphic novel years ago but had never seen the movie and it was The Genesis' 19th birthday also. It’s worthwhile in a pretty serious way that very few things are and you should see it at all costs. It’s funny too and kind of has to be if only because so much of it is unfathomably sad. There are no things about it that I do not like and just so, so much heart.
You should also be aware that it’s one of those full immersion things that could well leave you gasping for air come curtain fall. She was adamant that her disbelief at our insistence in forgetting all our heinous past mistakes still remains. It’s not like the history isn’t there. Indeed, her incredulity was furnished anew with a fresh coat of paint. That one could always have it worse is usually true; that we could be so much better to one another, even more so. It’s been a week of ups and downs and buoyancy control is difficult when it requires much the same elemental constitution needed just to get out of bed in the morning, function and remain standing until it's time to lie down in a dark room for six hours and not talk to anyone.
Speaking of heart, I think we had it for a while and - though we too are also now OUT - it was a tonne of fun while it lasted. It was almost certainly good for the pub economy (I have been led to believe that enough ale was quaffed so as to in fact reverse global warming) and to paraphrase Mr Reed, if we ain’t got that then we ain’t got nothin’ at all. That being said, we are a nation very much accustomed to eventual disappointment. It may in fact even be that we crave this particular arc.
I am not one that footballs in general. Occasionally, I can be convinced that an atmosphere is a good thing but for the most part, I am indifferent for reasons pertaining to money, hotels, sportsmanship and decency. That and simplicity. I shall refrain from the gentlemen/hooligans apposition to rugby or comparisons to glorified outdoor cupboards here. This is a safe place and we are all safe, including you. To win the World Cup is one thing; to lose with such ferocity and splendour is a rare anachronism that we may have forgotten how to parse and now must once again become familiar with as we tumble somewhat down the political food chain.
There are and always have been anomalous shapes moving just beneath the water’s surface and now they circle our floundering shoal, watching with ever-open mouths.
JD - TACOCAT