This has become more my journal than a blog – if you knew the mountains of unfinished drafts I’ve left behind, searching for thoughts that might be useful to The World, you’d understand. (Okay. It’s like 50. I’m probably going to do a mysqldump to solid state drives eventually, or sapphire and platinum, or whatever’s available that’ll last a few lifetimes, until another Curator comes along in the family to copy it over to the next medium for subsequent generations. Data inheritance is a real thing that y’all should prepare for, and you can’t trust a cloud service to survive hundreds of years in an ever-changing and possibly multi-world market. Futurist Tip™.)
But, when it is a blog, I’ve tended to turn the lens backwards. I recognize the irony. I’m working up the conviction of self that’s required to Speak to The World (and about The Future no less). It’s not a small task, and anyone who says differently is selling something.
There’s also the part where, I did not fucking see any of this coming. The truth of human nature is as dark as the history books paint it to be. If we fail to drive each other to moral excellence, however that process occurs, we crash and burn. I’ve seen it on the micro and the macro. (There’s a rather good book on the former – Knots by R.D. Laing – which I highly recommend.) Our history is pretty much completely war. People seeking power, and people seeking to retain their power. With brief interludes of peace, so there’s time to rebuilt fortresses and armies. And for every war fought, an entire subset of infinity dies – futures, changes, innovations, atrocities, love, strife, peril, and joy, on a scale well beyond the initial scope.
This is the Universe of Unlikely Outcomes now, and I really only got a sense of that when rain paused the last game in the World Series so the Cubs’ could get a tropey baseball movie speech about… whatever it is baseball players care about… and then suddenly we’re in extra innings and a team that hasn’t won in almost 70 years, did. Nothing fancy. A guy wearing a leather clam on his hand just scooped up the covered ball of twine out of the air, and poof.
The real problem with unlikely outcomes is, it doesn’t take any supernatural prescience to peg what is least probable. So now I have to figure out how not to just call all the obvious shit, and make this at least somewhat entertaining.
Wish me luck.