I can’t be sure if things are better or worse now than they have ever been throughout history. One thing I do know is that I feel uncomfortable in the same way that people being stalked probably feel. Something looms just under the horizon. Floods and fires are occurring simultaneously. Strangers are killing strangers in increasing frequency. The populations of the world are growing at an alarming rate, propagating and encouraging destitution and desperation. Old diseases, thought wiped out, are resisting, fighting back, mutating to survive. I think perhaps my discomfort is impatience… I am waiting for the world to end, for human civilization to collapse, to be reduced to its basic units of tribe and family again. We have come too far too fast. I don’t consider myself a crack-pot, but I can’t shake these feelings.

December 30th, 2001 at 8:17 pm in Our Fault

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