Corruption and short-termism are pushing us along the path of sorrows. Via Dolorosa.
The rain, it falls. The sun, it shines. The wind blows. And that’s what it’s like. You’re buffeted by this, by that, and it is nothing to do with you. Someone you love dies, or leaves. You get ill or you get better. You grow old and you remember, or you forget. And all the time, everywhere, there is this canopy stretching over you.
Things-as-they-are. Fate. Fate. Impersonal. Irrational. Disinterested. The rain falls. The sun shines. The wind blows. A bus mounts a pavement and kills a child. ...
I believe in no systems, no ideologies, no religion, nothing like that. I simply think – Oh, it’s very very boring, this. Very – I just think that from time to time, and at random, you are visited by what you cannot know cannot predict cannot control cannot change cannot understand and cannot cannot cannot escape – Fate. Why not? ‘S good old word.
[Dennis Potter, ‘The Singing Detective’]