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Revels and Rebels XV

Dear Santa,

When I was kid, I created a make believe village. Do you remember it? Every Christmas, between the ages of eight to twelve, I asked for Philip Laureston village figurines – perfectly detailed buildings complete with climbing roses and house signs. My village started with a cottage, the Rose and Crown pub and an oak tree. Over the years it was extended to include a farm, a school, a church, a village hall, shops and a duck pond. Each week I visited the villagers and had delightful conversations and arguments, and in the messiness of my imagination I understood what made their imagined lives happier. I remember one heated debate where the parents demanded a school house because they thought it was inappropriate to educate their children in the Rose and Crown pub. The children rather liked their lessons in the snooker room. The parents won.

Since the Pandemic began, I can honestly say that I’ve truly understood what life was really like for my imagined villagers. This idea of me pretending to know what the Browns in Mill House wanted is painfully mirrored in the current politics of world leaders controlling reality and herding us towards their imagined future of total urbanisation and transhumanism via the pathways of Big Pharma, Big Tech, Big Everything. And yes, if you peered out of your sleigh as you danced and pranced over our roof tops, you wouldn’t see the earth girdled with a giant cattle prod. Instead you’d see satellite dishes and cables that hypnotise with a monostory of fear as world leaders centralise us via their well laid assumptions.

As well you know Santa, having looked at billions of Christmas lists over what must seem like a millennia, we are very capable of thinking for ourselves and knowing our wishes. So thinking about my survival in a world that wants to centralise me, here are the things I wish for to free freedom:
  • A shield to protect from societal labels – can it be extendable to protect a large group too?
  • A laser beam to cut through the smoke of gas lighting.
  • A mighty hammer to strike down fake democracy.
  • A lighthouse beam that inserts into my bobble hat to help me find my way through the fog of lies and fear.
  • A pop up umbrella that attaches to my bobble hat to shelter me from the acid rain of narcissistic world leaders.
  • An ego minimiser for all those leaders who make decisions for ‘my benefit’ that adversely affect my life whilst profiting theirs.
  • A plot of land in the country to take shelter from total urbanisation and the rise of the megalopolis.
  • A radio frequency machine to tune the world into kindness.
  • A cape of tenderness.
  • A cup of confidence.
  • A huge lotus flower whose scent enables us to see the truth.
This resource list has got me thinking – can I add a last minute wish? I wonder if you’d consider being a mentor to current and future world leaders? They seem hell bent on centralisation and I understand that the roll out of your business model is based on centralisation. Perhaps you could talk to them about kindness, freedom and the personal touch? Because – let’s face it – it’s always personal.

With love,

Persona non grata x


Reflections on the year that was 2022.
Blog post header image: Photo by Thomas Park on Unsplash

Since 2007, Revels and Rebels has been reflecting, provoking and getting passionate about how our society, humanity and civilisation evolves over the course of a year. Part-monologue, part-missive, it takes the form of a Dear Santa letter and makes a wish for the year to come.

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