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The writing and telling of history is bedevilled by two human neuroses: horror at the desperate shapelessness and seeming lack of pattern in events, and regret for a lost golden age, a moment of happiness when all was well.
Indeed. We simply don’t look back closely enough nor far enough into the past to see that the nearest we have to a golden age is today.
Some may sneer at this as ‘political correctness’. When I was young, my parents were insistent on the importance of being courteous and respectful of other people’s opinions and I am saddened that these undramatic virtues have now been relabelled in an unfriendly spirit.