Broken Rainbows

The imagination doesn’t have to work too hard to see this photograph representing where we are with Brexit. A rock. A hard place. Storm clouds. A broken rainbow bridge that doesn’t reach. It could only be posted in black and white, although nothing, of course, is ever truly black or white, only every shade of grey in between.

My Brexit Quadratic metaphor has held up rather well this last week. The Prime Minister has presented another complex solution to the Brexit equation and it’s actually been quite amusing to witness members of the government trying to explain it in real terms—something that’s mathematically impossible to do.

I guess I should try to be kind and suggest that it’s not their fault. Especially Boris Johnson’s. He’s a narcissistic classicist, not a mathematician. How can he possibly be expected to understand complex analysis? He’s born of privilege. How can he possibly be expected to understand the difficulties that the square root of minus one will present on the ground, where the collision of the imaginary and the real has the potential to mess up people’s lives.

But I don’t want to be kind. We’ve discovered that we’re a divided country and it feels like no one is trying to build any bridges. Trust has gone out of the window. I realised today that I’m a victim of gaslighting. We all are. We are being gaslighted by our government. We’re exposed to a stream of mixed messages that aim to be disorienting, designed to wear us down and discourage us from seeking the facts. Truth has disappeared down a spinning black hole of never answered questions. We’re left too exhausted to believe anything other than what we want to believe, ensuring that positions get further entrenched, everyone retreating more deeply within their own bubbles. 

Perhaps it’s no surprise I get so easily plunged into depression and despair. But I always feel better for a good brain dump. Sorry to have felt the need to inflict that upon you.