Uncommonplace

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As a species, we tend to hold massive global wars when we’re having an identity crisis – a bit like a character in a soap opera tearfully smashing up their living room to demonstrate how upset they are at the climax of a particularly harrowing story arc, but worse because millions perish. (If you think that sounds like I’m trivialising the terrifying prospect of a massive global war, you’re right. It’s a psychological defence mechanism designed to stop myself screaming while I type.)

The complete collapse of capitalism would bring on an identity crisis of staggering proportions. You mean we listened to all those advertising jingles for nothing? We memorised PIN codes and coveted “brands” and shuffled round shopping malls in search of personal validation – and we were wasting our time? And those eerie puppet people who dressed like Apprentice contestants and sat on the Bloomberg channel burping out phrases such as “collateralised debt obligations” and “securitisation” and “facilitate” and “drill-down” and “going forward” – those people were boggle-eyed bullshitting lunatics and the entire system was a tosser’s delusion? None of us could ever have guessed. We didn’t have to guess. We knew. We knew.

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