Is it just me? Am I the only one who’s instinctive response to much of what’s going on is ‘is it just me?’

***

I watched the presser by English scientists/health chiefs this morning. it was a frightener. Notwithstanding any considerations of blame, which may well be futile, it is clear that this is out of control. I have no reason to think the basic situation is much different in Scotland. ‘Faults in the clouds of delusion’ sings Jerry in my ear: well quite–shit just got real again.

I think it’s possible to look at the situation and conclude that lockdown was eased too early, but that ignores the harms that lockdown itself causes. It also ignores lots of anecdotal evidence of people being stupid, many of whom take the idiot Cummings as their model or their excuse. There’s no silver bullet in this.

I was thinking again about metaphor when looking at the charts the scientists displayed. I haven’t reached any particular conclusion, but it did strike me that, with asymptomatic spread, and the news that some parts of England had never significantly reduced the prevalence of the virus, there is something similar to boiling jam, or making porridge going on–the whole mass of material in the pan is heating, but what you see are random bubbles popping up. It’s the whole contents, not the surface, that is the key bit.

And the leading indicator is rising hospital admissions.

***

Feeling a lot better today, I’m happy to say. That’s an odd thing to write after the preceding paragraph, I know, but there we are. Decent sleep and whatever it was that was bugging me has gone. I find that it’s easier to get my head around the crap that’s around us if I’m not also under the weather.

Looking back, I’m reminded that I was talking about family history here in February before the world changed or, at least, before we’d realised that the world had changed. By happy coincidence, a new series of who Do You Think You Are? started tonight, the first subject being Jodie Whittaker. The show tends to follow a predictable formula, but that doesn’t detract from my enjoyment of it.

***

Music. Another random selection from the shelves, although the cd shelves rather than the vinyl LP shelves this time. Paul Horn was a well respected musician, principally in the jazz world but also as a session player (he crops up on the Beach boys’ Pet Sounds. In 1968 he found a way to get inside the Taj Mahal with an alto flute and a friend with a tape recorder. There, he improvised, playing around and against the delay and echo inside the great dome of the building.

This is the opening track, beginning with the voice of a guard singing, then an identifier. It’s best listened to on headphones.