Tottenham, emerging from the underground.
W.’s not surprised that one of the madmen of the underground sat next to us. Did he sense that we had something in common? Did he believe us to be akin, somehow? Like-minded, somehow? He was a religious man, as all madmen are religious. He was an apocalyptic man, as all madmen are apocalyptic.
He spoke of the end of the world. W. nodded in agreement. He spoke of the last judgement. W. affirmed what he said. He spoke of the remnant, of the last stand of the righteous. Yes, said W., a number of times. And then the madman rose and wandered down the carriage.
We musn't be afraid to see our world in apocalyptic terms, W. says. In religious terms. The language of the Last Days is wholly appropriate to our times.
We know what is coming. We know that a new dawn — the opposite of dawn — will spread its dark rays from the horizon. We know that the time will come to put down our pens and close our books …
Climatic catastrophe. Financial catastrophe. W. quotes the prophet Joel: ‘the rivers of waters are dried up, and the fire hath devoured the pastures of the wilderness’. He remembers what the prophet Jeremiah saw in the ruins of Jerusalem: the earth without form and void. The heavens without light. The very mountains reeling …
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