Scary times when a man can ask the question, “Are we not human?” You would have to go back to the nineteenth century and the Abolitionist movement to find that same question asked. At the time it was about African slaves, and the answer was that Africans are human and have a right to freedom. In the security council, silence was the reply.
It doesn’t surprise me, for decades human life has been gradually reduced to no more important than that of sardines.
Latest on my side is that the ride north has left me questioning whether my long-distance bicycle rides are over. It was a struggle all the way, and there’s also the weather that is becoming unpredictable. Age might have something to do with it as well. My plan was to spend much of the coming year riding, but that’s not looking good.
Was up on the boat for a few days and found it had been attacked by a squadron of birds who shit all over the deck and roof, that the automatic bilge pump had stopped working and someone got in by way of the forward hatch. Nothing missing, but I’ll remember in future to lock that hatch. I’d planned to spend a few days reading on deck with a glass of wine, but ended up scrubbing sun-baked bird shit and fixing the electrics.
Otherwise, I finished a few weeks ago reading the two books by French neurologist Francis Eustache on memory, emotion and trauma, and often had to put them down and go for a walk. It’s causes anger to realize life could have been different had this latest research been known fifty years ago. What I’m tossing around in my head now is whether I should summarize what I’ve learned and make it available to others? I feel I should, but it’s a big job and I’m no more motivated for mind projects than my body is for more long bikepacking trips.
