What if the cure for coronavirus is worse than the disease? In addressing how the world may be affected by coronavirus, Coronatime examines existential questions such as: when is the next bus coming?
We all have a limited number of years, months, weeks and days to live.
So why should we spend that time waiting for a red London bus?
My recent blog Read this now – before you waste more of your precious life pointed out that most of us feel short of time; and are not sure how to spend what time we have. I also noted that my novel Coronatime (hit link to read) explored 5 ways wealth and creativity can’t mix (links in bold italics are to other posts on this site).
The conclusions of Coronatime are good news for poor people.
So where do London buses come in?
One of the weaknesses of much speculative sci-fi – for example, the otherwise not-totally-awful movie In Time, is that although the whole basis of civilisation has changed, people still act the same as in the “real” world. In Time, for example, features rich people who are effectively immortal unless they suffer injuries or violence. Yet everyone is still running around with 2015-type guns; driving cars; and engaging in all sorts of dangerous activity.
Obviously if you had the prospect of living forever, or if you hoped to sell your remaining life expectancy to someone else in exchange for fabulous riches, you would alter your lifestyle to ensure you wouldn’t come to physical harm.
The police wouldn’t have guns. They’d be equipped with means of harmlessly disabling people (in Coronatime, the hideously scary Big Fright) plus plenty of cling-film and bubble-wrap to try and prevent people harming themselves, or other people.
In Coronatime, no-one has been murdered in New York City for centuries. So when someone tries to kill 250,000 people, everyone sits up and takes notice.
Plus: when 250,000 lives are threatened, the value of life goes up. What kind of perverse incentives does that create for the wealthy?
It life really was money, no-one would be flying in aircraft, or driving cars, or doing anything remotely risky – unless, as in Coronatime, you belonged to a cult – the One Lifers – who rejected the whole principle of buying or selling life expectancy and lived only your natural life-span, in the belief that a finite lifetime would enhance your creativity.
Conversely, if you were fabulously rich, and had a shot at immortality, you would be looking for ways to flaunt that wealth.
Which is where London buses come in.
Ever waited for a London bus? Read this excerpt from Coronatime and you’ll get the picture.