I didn’t want to get out of bed this morning. The air was chill, the bed was warm, and nothing on my calendar suggested anyone would know let alone care if I spent the day tucked up in my bedly burrow.
But nowhere in the maze of shoulds and should nots that constitute my conscience was a sign that said This way to self-indulgence, so I crawled out and made coffee instead.
This is really silly, if I look at it objectively. What possible harm could it do anyone if I spent the day in bed? Except me, possibly. I’d be depressed by mid-afternoon and unable to sleep at night, but in the general scheme of things, so what? I blame this resistance to self-indulgence on Anglican boarding school indoctrination, where Love thy neighbour was never accompanied by as thyself, but that was a lot of years ago and I could be expected to have got over it by now.
But then I turned on my computer to check the day’s news and saw that companies and hospitals around the world have been attacked by ‘ransomware’ – they have to pay money to get their computer systems back up – and thought that having a conscience, however petty its dictates, was better than being a true-blue bastard who would risk lives to satisfy their own greed – or perhaps simply because they thought it would be fun. Or maybe because their girlfriends cast aspersions on the size of their equipment, who knows.
The tool used in these attacks is apparently a piece of cyberware developed by the National Security Agency, which isn’t just ironic, but speaks to the stupidity of current values. In my opinion.
Not that anyone cares what you or I might think. The movers and shakers are too dazzled by their own cleverness and high on their own power to recognise ‘collateral damage’ as actual living breathing people. With actual lives they might quite like.
See? I should have stayed in bed after all.