This is the age of the slogan, the soundbite, the snappy phrase in place of considered argument. Thought is dying; reason’s gone critical. In bookshops and magazine racks we’re told only what we want to hear: we’re told it in neat, bullet-pointed affirmations of our own worth.

No more. This is the fightback. The resuscitation. This is the slogan as explainer of the world. One a day for a year. Three hundred and sixty five phrases, soundbites and bullet points with which to make sense of the way things are now and point to how things could be tomorrow. Read them and weep.


Thursday

43. If pleasure remains, does it remain a pleasure?

Nothing is ever as good as you thought it would be. Not after a little while. The shine wears off, the gloss cracks, the veneer fades. Newer models appear, or more efficient solutions, or prettier ones. Obsolescence is an inevitability. And all of this is not the fault of cynicism, or restlessness, or a human inability to stay content. It’s due to age. The banal tragedy of the everyday. The world turns. We get old; things get old; nothing remains the same. Pleasure does not remain a pleasure any more than we remain young and beautiful and brilliant: so be grateful for the pleasures you’ve had – and don’t resent their fading.
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