Recently, I was in the capital.
In summer, the crowds really come out. I was in Soho, the sun shone and the people came out.
I was in the capital for an innocuous reason. I had an errand to run that could only be completed by making the journey to the capital, so there I was. Thankfully, the rail connections ran without issue. Recently we have been gifted strike upon strike action here in the United Kingdom, but our lifeline to the capital has remained open.
The journey was swift. The new Elizabeth Line is an improvement for us here next to London. I can see why my compatriots in the North resent the super-gravitational force of the South-East. Much has been written on the divide within our country. I am sure much more will be written on it. The most that will be done on the issue, I am sure. Apart from a few token gestures, our government is incapable of providing any meaningful economic programme of any note. Suffice to say, the trinkets of the metropole should be enjoyed while they are here.
Arriving in London, the atmosphere was subdued. It was a Sunday – yet I expected a livelier presence. The masses were out in force. But there lacked an energy to the capital. Maybe I am just getting used to it. Maybe I am less impressed by waves and waves of people than I once was. ‘Pride month’ was ending. Those of you who know Soho – and know what it is famous for - will know that I was not spared the insignia, flags, banners, colours and rainbows that signal the powers that be.
I moved through the backstreets hesitantly. Underneath this paraphernalia I expected throngs of merry goers, activists, foot soldiers of the regime active. Proud. Yet apart from a few homosexual couples, ones you might expect to happen upon in any major city, this presence was lacking. The city itself seemed as it was at the end of a long shift. The beautiful imperial architecture that towers above narrow streets below contains each street to itself. I cannot explain it entirely; there is something off about that district.
The contemporary businesses clash with the buildings that house them. A slew of restaurants navigates you towards the several small commons, with the largest being Soho square. For the sacred reserve of the regime, there was no triumph to be found. No victory of difference over “heteronormativity”, no redemption of your original “straightness”, no sacrifice of “queerness” for your micro transgressions. There is no majesty. If you have been to a cathedral, old church, sacred religious site you will undoubtedly resonate with this point.
I was in Athens recently. While I was there, I visited the Metropolitan Cathedral. It is impressive. The size, the aura, the towering height. All illuminated through the beautiful icons and decorations of the church. The darkness on entry, your eyes adjust, the magnificence unfolds. This is majesty. This is decades of work, building and toil towards a higher goal. Even this agnostic can appreciate this majesty.
This is absent in Soho. As it is absent within the current regime. There is no majesty because the “Pride” movement cannot replicate itself. No thought to the next generation and their children. No view into the future. No saving, sacrifice, toil – all must be enjoyed now. I wonder if the Boomer generation has meshed so well with the divergent sexual politics that emerged because they are the same – live for the now, the next be damned. Free love and freer sex. There is no superior outlet for free love than homosexual acts. Majesty is lost, tarnished and forgotten.
The Boomers for their part have steadily accommodated the growing Pride movement. Their leaders and elites have readily welcomed ‘woke’ into their corporations and businesses. They send out floats and activists to pride marches around the world. The Boomers see themselves in woke. It will be hard for them to put it away when playtime ends.
But this decadence cannot last forever. It cannot reproduce itself. It may only corrupt and deviate and turn heads away from what should be done. There is a growing resentment of this culture. I am encountering an increasing number of fellows who, from their own observation, see that this is going too far. Their annoyance alone will not usher in a transformation. Nor will it substantiate dissident political and social forces required to change our country for the better. But it will, at least, take away supporters of the regime. Defenders, those who will excuse and argue for the policies of those in power. Losing support can be just as de-stabilising as your opponent’s gathering strength.
Nothing will change without an organised vanguard imitating a circulation of elites. But that is for a different article.
Returning to London, I feel as if that city could do with some fresh majesty. A project that spans decades – at least. Building upwards, beautifully towards a higher goal.
Until then, I will continue to visit. Continue to see what was once a great, imperial, capital.
(P.S. The Caesarism article is coming. It is a spectre haunting this Substack, I know. But it is coming.)
I bet I whould feel the same visiting the capital of my country Washington DC seeing the relics and buildings of a bygon age now replaced by symbols and signs of the regime in power.