The Poseurs of Destruction

Morning Thoughts #112

Staging a crowning, we are living through the passing of the great age of maps. The dogma of nations and cultures spanning eternal realms, just another afterworld, is being disproved. The mix is coming, and it should be no surprise, but for the fact of our official education. The understandable world is leaving us, likely not to return for generations or even millennia. First, we will be insistent amidst our disorientation - the questions of where and who we are will bubble desperately from our lips like spittle - the sight of which will scare away the few left who still have a hint of an answer.

Tomorrow, the wisest will speak a language of symbolic poetry. Today, our era concludes on a sunny day where we fail to step outside. Almost extinguished, we are the wood that thought ourselves the flame. Born burning, we guessed optimistically but wrong. The hegemonic order is passing, its late strength being passed around like an unwanted burden - from one to the next so quickly it’s become a free agent, unpossessed. And those who could, even at this late date, still prevent the impending collapse, put their heads down and avert their gaze - they are ashamed of their latent strength. Has fashionable powerlessness turned the last of our would-be saviors into poseurs of destruction?