It is always an age of anxiety when ‘more’ is the measure of happiness By Gerard Howlin

IT is angst, not abortion, that is the issue.

Angst is the slow, gnawing, niggling worry from which no assurance can relieve us. We suffer incurably from it, though less so in good weather. But good weather is infrequent, so remission is rare. The condition is inoperable and untreatable. Lunatics, mystics, and a few extraordinarily grounded people can be immune. But, in the main, it is the silent, incurable plague that sweeps all before it into the grave.

Many sufferers can go a lifetime without having a successful diagnosis. This is for the best, given angst’s permanency and inoperability. Others suffer appalling public outbreaks. This is pernicious, because it is contagious.