I just returned from a short break with my family to the Derbyshire Peak District, where amongst the many blessings was the fact there was no internet connection in the place we were camping. In fact, the first time I got even the remotest hint of one was when we ascended to the highest point in the area, Kinder Scout, where suddenly it came alive again.
Now before you get the idea that I’m about to have a go on a rant at the internet or all things modern, let me assure you this is not the case. The internet is a great thing, though like all other good things, it is of course subject to the many contrivances and evils that sinful man can twist it towards. And besides, if it wasn’t for the internet, I couldn’t have written this piece and you wouldn’t be reading it.
But here’s where the blessing was to be found: For four whole days my family and I were able to escape the insanity that has become the modern world. For over half a week we escaped the relentless barrage of lunacy that comes to us every day in the news. It was like being let out of the asylum and told to forget about the madhouse for a few days while we roamed freely to our hearts content.
Oh what bliss. Think about it. Savour the thought.
For four whole days I didn’t read a single story about people being unable to tell the difference between boys and girls.
For four whole days, I escaped the pitiful whining of the leftist mob who think that everyone who disagrees with them is a Nazi / fascist / white supremacist / bigot / extremist.
For four whole days, I escaped the wretched man called Trump, who has reneged on all his foreign policy campaign promises and is now the sad prisoner of the neoconservatives and military men, but is still apparently free to Tweet whenever he feels the itch.
For four whole days, I missed the United States looking like it wants to start wars with North Korea, Iran, Venezuela, China, or Russia, and I also missed its announcement that it intends to be in Afghanistan until about the year 2321.
For four days, I missed the opponents of the man called Trump, working themselves up into a mad frenzy about a hack that never was, and a collusion that never happened.
For four days, I missed the revolutionaries tearing down statues that people have managed to coexist with for nearly a century and a half, and I missed the media excusing them for doing so.
For four days, I managed to hear nothing about Government plans to project their filthy, perverted little minds into the heads of small children and dress it up with the innocuous sounding name “sex education”.
For four days, I managed not to hear a single person arguing that killing babies is a fundamental human right.
For four days, I managed not to come across a single instance of people descending into a slanging match, calling each other all sorts of offensive names, and using the worst kind of gutter language, all because they happened to disagree with each other.
For four days, I managed not to hear about firefighters apologising to vegans because eating sausages apparently offended them.
Four whole days of none of that. Bliss.
But alas, in this life all good things must come to an end. Duty called me back to the asylum, which is where I now am, with a fully working internet connection, attempting to work out whether things have got madder and badder, or whether they’ve settled down into some kind of equilibrium.
Still, it was nice while it lasted, and I thoroughly recommend taking a short break from the asylum once in a while. In its own way it is a little foretaste of what the new heavens and new earth shall be like. I don’t know whether there will be an internet connection there, but I have a feeling that the insanity of 2017 will seem like a bad, but very distant, dream.