Vainglory

Ffs! I don’t know who to be madder about: the voracious billionaires buying politicians and environmental policy, the warring, corrupt presidents, or the loser rapists drugging their partners. Vainglory, I can’t have the slightest effect on. I feel helpless and furious in equal measures, and I don’t know where to express the futility and rage. So I go about making the house beautiful, supporting the next wave of sex educators, trying to stay grounded in the unease, fear and dismay. How are we supposed to pretend that conquest is ‘success’ or that it’ll all come good, or that disaster capitalism will continue unabated? I want to cry.