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Queer Editorial

nickquiver.jpg Quiver
 

On using Nick Cave to help you get through the darkness.

For months, I’ve wanted to write something light-hearted for my column here in the lovely Crack Magazine. And every time I’ve sat down to speak to you another awful thing has happened. Not that this is anything new, awful things have been happening for a long, long time. It’s just now we hear about it immediately, often in real-time, as events unfold. In the last year, I have seen at least two contemporary tragedies unfold in the palm of my hand, and I still don’t know how to process what I saw (and that is despite not looking for very long). On the ground, social media gives a platform to those who are usually voiceless. But still, even now, after the world has born witness to atrocities and accidents we continue, the world continues. And maybe it should. Last Friday I was sitting on the metro and everyone, apart from three people (the metro was full) were head-down bent over their screens. It was sunny outside, and I watched workmen in high-viz fly past on my way to town; they were there on the side of the track, and then they weren’t there. Earlier today, I read an interview with Nick Cave who was reflecting on the loss of his son and how we should try to avoid going into a dark emotional place on our own. It’s easy to say, but Cave spoke with the tone of a person who has seen the darkness from its very dark heart. I know that place. You know it too. Or you will know it in time – mark my words. So, this is all a jumble as I try and imagine what our screens will do to us, have done to us, are doing to us. Everything is mixed up and everything is connected. It is sunny again outside. Privileged rich men around the globe are running the world like it’s a board game. I don’t know what I am saying readers, I don’t know what comes next, but all we have is each other. I hope, in the end, that proves to be enough.