Saturday, 24 March 2007

Comfort in Wittgensein

Some days are thoroughly hateful: today, for example.

I was expecting to visit my daughter in Southend. I didn’t. But I did spend three hours attempting to. And what did I feel: anger? frustration? selfishness? disappointment? resentment? heartbreak? And whose loss is the greater?

I suppose I should follow the counsel of Wittgenstein: of those matters on which we can say nothing, let us be silent. Or something similar.

More disappointment

Instead, Jackie and I went off to buy new “walking boots”. For men, it was once possible to buy: sports shoes, casual shoes, formal shoes, industrial working boots, and walking boots. And it was pretty clear what was what. Not now. Now anything and everything is possible, and nothing is quite what it seems: there are business shoes with candy-stripe laces, sandals with soles like trainers, trainers with steel toe-caps, and walking boots with smooth bottoms like plimsoles. I suppose it’s all to do with consumer choice and the free market. But every store seemed to be some mocking surreal post-modernist cathedral dedicated to proving the proposition that More equals Less.

After the upset of the morning’s abortive trip to Southend, I wanted something more reliable and fulfilling. Without Jackie’s patience and support I would have spent this summer striding out across the South Downs in a pair of carpet slippers.

When England played Israel, the only minor surprise was that England managed to earn a point from the game.