We won't have to rely on newsreel footage this time. Everything is documented online. These are surely the times that will fascinate future generations like none other. I'm guessing that Donald Trump, the phenomena, will be considered and studied like Jesus, Elvis, Hitler, Jayne Mansfield.
Our culture awaits the big one in San Francisco. When it comes we will all wring our hands and cry about the loss and devastation as though we had not been told for generations that it was coming. Inevitable.
War? Obsolete? Nah- hacking levels the playing field. As soon as one of the major banking systems is brought down by some kid in a t shirt in a dorm room or as soon as an electric grid in Europe is scrambled by a feminist/anarchist social club we will spring into action to protect the system. What's that old saw about the barn doors after the cattle are out?
Meanwhile we pat ourselves on the back for signing something on carbon emissions. Whoopee! How deep's the water, Mama?
I suppose it's a good thing Bucky Fuller didn't live to see this day.
You know what, though? Love is like the sun. It's fashion position fluctuates but it's always around. There's always hope. There's always love.
I know, I know. I couldn't get a job with Hallmark. I don't care. I love you.