Man City and Pep Guardiola are surging through the Premier League. Their flow is an affront to Brexit and the bulwarks of English football’s old insularity.
Cryin’ won’t help you, prayin’ won’t do you no good,
Now, cryin’ won’t help you, prayin’ won’t do you no good,
When the levee breaks, mama, you got to move.– Led Zeppelin
A few days back, I was walking down a beach on the outskirts of Madras. I enjoyed the peace and quiet, the lack of human chatter to pierce through the sound of waves crashing on the seashore on a high-tide evening. There were a few young bare-chested kids, though, repeatedly running into the water to ride the waves back to the shore. It must be fun to let buoyancy and inertia guide you, rather than your own two feet.
Oftentimes, in the age of internet, social media and all its extras, this is a grave danger to following a popular religion or cult. You’re surrounded by so many opinions, so many insights, you struggle to find the headspace to make your own. Those in it for the social aspect of it all just ride the wave. They go to protests with “I’m with this guy ->” written on placards. Conviction is as passe as print newspapers and hand-written letters.