Jonathan Skinner

The Bad Thing

It had already happened. What seemed at the time like one of the worst possible things happened after other bad things had occurred. And then, just as the worst possible thing was coming to an end, which was bad but not as bad as it could have been, due to imploding on itself through its own badness, and due to less bad things taking its place, the really bad thing no one anticipated occurred, which was, even more than many bad things, unevenly distributed. So while it was unimaginably bad for many, for others, it was unexpectedly not bad, especially in retrospect, though suffused with dread in the moment.

Sometimes, when we are in the midst of a really bad thing, all of the little bad things fall away, so that in this state of exception at the edge of total uncertainty, leaving us alone with the only really good things that matter, if we are lucky to have them—things we rarely celebrate in the every day, cluttered as it is with little things good and bad—then the really bad thing can feel good, to the point where we often secretly or not so secretly long for the really bad thing. But how bad it was we would not know for years, as it enabled and multiplied so many little or not so little bad things that waited in the wings. Nor would we know how good it felt, for some of us, until it was nearly over.

 A thing in itself neither good nor bad came to the fore in the midst of this really bad thing and offered itself as a way to survive the really bad thing, to maintain existing good things and even to make new good things for many who had suffered in the shadows of the good life, due to the goodness being disabled for them in ways they rather than the good life were blamed for. This wasn’t all that good for many who had enjoyed the good life, and even trapped some in the bad lives they had previously been able to escape, making itself indispensable, to the point where we could hardly remember life without it, greatly empowering things that at the time were neither good nor bad.

There were other bad things that had been going on for so long they were a part of the good until it got challenged, as actually pretty bad, while a good thing that preceded the worst possible thing made these bad things more visible. The state of exception could not hold against these bad things that were newly visible bringing many into the streets in ways that felt good even if nothing good came of it. But the worst possible thing that was coming as a response to the good thing, which turned out not to be so good in the end, was also a part of even worse things that sowed division about this good thing.

Finally the worst possible thing that was overshadowed by the really bad thing got shoved aside by something not so bad, though not without putting some truly bad things in place for the future, and not without showing its badness again in shocking ways that made many of us think we might be stuck with the worst possible thing for much longer than we had hoped. Many of us still overcame our divisions enough to reject the worst possible thing, though many for whom the worst possible thing was in fact a good, or so they thought, refused to accept this rejection.

The not so bad thing that took its place allowed us to forget about the worst possible thing, to be grateful for the good things that were coming back as the really bad thing faded, though often we were confused in this time of transition, not sure how to enjoy and share the good things that were coming back, sometimes mistaking them for bad things. And while some of the good things had survived, many had not, and many of us had less access to the good things from before. And those who had come out of the shadows of the good life, thanks to the thing that in itself was neither good nor bad, found themselves being set aside again, as the good life returned.

Others had found a transitional space in the thing that was neither good nor bad, an opportunity for switching what was good and bad in their lives or refusing to choose, and as the good life returned they found themselves newly empowered. At the same time, because of this transitional space, those who had not been able to transition through the thing that was neither good nor bad, who had in fact dug in to their preexisting sense of good and bad, if not their misconceptions about the worst possible thing, felt newly threatened, becoming  more susceptible to the worst possible thing making powerful cause of their discontent. 

The truly bad things that had been put in place for the future started to make themselves felt in the present with a series of really bad judgments. These were so bad that even when we thought the worst possible thing was sure to return, a wave of outrage pushed it back, so that the not so bad thing continued to work in the present, allowing us to breathe and share breath again. It may be that this not so bad thing was actually really bad, as it made us complacent about the truly bad things that were continuing to pass down judgments in the present—at the same time that the worst possible thing was regrouping and reorganizing itself in the shadows.

Just as the not so bad situation started to improve, and some of us began to access the good things from before, in the background, bad old bad things we had not thought possible for ages, especially not since the really bad thing occurred, started to take place again. As people elsewhere started once again to do truly awful things to one another, in organised ways that were very bad, it became apparent that the not so bad thing, while making a show of resistance to the awful things, was really, truly complicit in things even worse than the worst possible thing. Many argued that the not so bad thing was possibly and in fact worse than the worst possible thing.

It was in this environment that the return of the worst possible thing began to seem possible, even as forces gathered to put that thing away once and for all. The not so bad thing was a really old thing incapable of stepping aside for something new that might resist the worst possible thing—just as it had in the past put itself in the way of something new, thus delivering us the worst possible thing in the first place. When it did step aside, it was too late, and in any case the supposedly new thing that took its place wasn’t really new enough, not separated enough from things worse than the worst possible thing.

But the worst possible thing was so bad, so obviously very bad, that many continued to believe the not so bad thing would prevail, even when it was tied to things worse than the worst possible thing. Meanwhile, bad things happened, or were made to happen, to the worst possible thing that made it, in surviving them, seem exceptional—as exceptional, in its own way, as the really bad thing that had enabled some to experience good and bad things switching places. In the midst of worse than the worst possible things, there was hope until the very last minute that the worst possible thing would be defeated, coupled with dread that it would not.

In the end, it happened: the worst possible thing prevailed, for a second time. Because we knew how bad it was, in ways that made it worse, though not as bad perhaps as the things even worse that had been going on for some time—so that perhaps, it might in fact end these things—we stopped talking about it. Suddenly it made perfect sense, at the same time that we couldn’t believe it, as so much of what had allowed us to believe in the not so bad thing had clearly collapsed. As we figured we knew what was coming, we needed a break from the worst possible thing, and stopped talking about it.

Even though we told ourselves we knew what was coming, in a way, we experienced this time like the state of exception at the edge of total uncertainty—except that now we were physically together, those of us who could be, enjoying the good things from before, while not talking as before, not even about the worst possible thing that was on all of our minds and would soon be upon us. It was easy to fend off panic by talking ourselves into believing that the worst possible thing wasn’t in fact that bad or would collapse as before into its own badness.

This period of calm before the second return of the worst possible thing was helped by a kind of pause in the even worse things that had been happening. Well, some of us thought, maybe the worst possible thing wasn’t so bad, after all, if it meant the end of even worse things. But there were other even worse things that had been going on, throughout the time of the not so bad thing, the worst possible thing, the good thing which turned out not to be so good in the end, and even the obviously bad things that had preceded that good thing. These even worse things had been predicted for a long time, despite their nature being, in their occurrence, to be unpredictable.

What made the worst possible thing so bad for some, was how it had clearly limited, in a critical period, the possibility of stopping these even worse things. For this reason some argued that the not so bad thing had been worse than the worst possible thing because it enabled the underlying state of affairs provoking these even worse things, even as it pretended to resist them by acting sustainably. Either way, these even worse things displaced lives good and not so good for many, who streamed toward places where there was still a good or even not so good life to be had.

The worst possible thing found a cause in this displacement and the bad things it supposedly brought to those not quite yet enjoying the good life, not enjoying it, they were told, because of these bad things. Thus the bad things resulting from the worst possible thing work to its advantage, rather than against it, helping its return. Meanwhile, in this period of calm before the second return of the worst possible thing, those enjoying the good life, even some enjoying the very good life, from one day to the next suddenly and unpredictably found themselves, and everything they owned, in the path of the even worse things.  

Many lost everything. It was bad, very bad, though not nearly as bad a thing perhaps as the worse things so many more had suffered in so many places over the years in which we had gradually progressed toward the worst possible thing. Meanwhile the contours of a situation began to clarify quite suddenly behind the worst possible thing at its second return, as the things neither good nor bad took their place behind the worst possible thing. Rather than letting the badness of the worst possible thing collapse on itself, these things neither good nor bad, that had been rejected by the not so bad thing, took control of the worst possible thing.

Suddenly the worst possible thing started to look a lot like the even worse things that had sowed division about the good, or not so good things, from before. This worst possible thing, or the elements in control of it, even started to embrace, if not openly promote, the bad old bad things we had not thought possible for ages. Those who had been fooled into thinking the worst possible thing was the worst we could expect awoke to an even worse possibility. The worst possible thing would be bad for everyone except for a very limited few, regardless of their views on things good and bad.

Like the even worse things that had been going on, throughout the time of the not so bad thing and the worst possible thing, the thing that was neither good nor bad had continued to develop itself and grow, feeding on the very things that the worst possible thing claimed to resist. The good life some of us had returned to was not as good as before, because of how it was perpetually fragmented into things neither good nor bad. The thing neither good nor bad had been paying attention as we chased after these fragments of the good life or railed at the bad things always getting worse, training itself on the pieces of our attention.

Now this thing neither good nor bad has produced possibly the largest compromise between good and bad things in the recorded history of all things, whether or not they be good or bad. Because it is so large, and so resourceful, the compromise still seems to some better than all the fragments of good things by which we try to put together a good life. On this basis, the thing neither good nor bad has been sold to us, as indispensable to the good life, trained on us and pushed on us with the inevitability of the return of the worst possible thing. But the worst possible thing would not be bad enough for the thing neither good nor bad.

Suddenly, something worse than the worst possible thing appears to be installing itself in the good, not so good, at times truly bad thing that we nevertheless agreed to live with, because it was better than worse things or because we had no better choice. The very few who have benefited from this thing neither good nor bad are now in the open, openly proclaiming their badness, enabling the worst possible thing, or even worse things, so long as it enables them. Now the worst possible thing, or even worse, is all we can see, hear, think or talk about. Or rather listen to—as some of us, like this poem, are still trying to find the words by which to address, and resist, the worst possible thing.