“The collective realisation will be slow, but it will happen, and another idol of certitude may slowly emerge from the fallout. That idol might be the worship of Mother Gaia amidst the climate crisis, or the body of the oppressed minority in the pursuit of racial justice, or possibly an icon of homo technos, of the transhuman whose augmented being places him beyond the realm of worldly suffering. Neoliberalism is already toying with these idols, eyeing up and gauging each one, contemplating their utility and compatibility with the existing state of affairs.”

“Walk outside the gaff–emptiness in the city centre. Suffocating grey sky, high pressure. Like a breath being held. The odd car, a Deliveroo cyclist, a seagull poking at a refuse sack of a private waste-disposal company. A face mask lies discarded in the gutter. A newly built student-hotel, words tattooed all over the facade, sits and bides its time. Lights are on but nobody's home. ”

“Will it ever end? We are holding onto the balloon, and we keep ascending. If we keep holding on, we are surely doomed. And if we let go?”