Denial set in as soon as it happened – we thought we were faultless, but somewhere, somehow, someone has got to take the fall. Naturally, we do what we can to avoid putting our own heads on the chopping block, resulting in a battle between body and mind, heart and soul, logic and emotion. However, playing the blame game seems to be what we do best, thanks to human evolution and your neighbour’s frivolous pet chihuahua – there is simply no escaping it.
It could be just like in the movies: a wandering satellite is seen floating silently in outer space, millions of miles away from a certain inhabitable planet, making its own imaginary peace treaties with stray asteroids and laughing androids. Cue wailing alarms and shouting sirens; the satellite suddenly flickers to life and kicks into overdrive, responding to an unscheduled work request that has it furiously circling the planet in an attempt to ascertain the marked location that is pulsing in great big waves of red on a hologram map. Armed with a camera that defies the conventional workings of gravity, it speedily zooms in at a particular spot amid a dizzying blur of blues and greens, before steadying itself and drawing to a halt at the sight of the intended target – a supposedly much maligned and dangerous human being with a less-than-sunny disposition, who but just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.
A split second of ignorance could make all the difference between life and death, and today I feel like raising a clenched fist to the sky and shouting: “Why me?”