The earth is an egg, or so we are told by that arcane priesthood of science from the portable temples of bound and stacked imprinted paper through to the flickering patter of organized pixels that currently hypnotize us into believing in a collective omniscience. Could such ideas exist without a collective of perfectly ordered theoreticians brought into compliance by the discipline of a common system of guiding thought. We are free, we are constantly told. Free to conform to the laziness of popular culture where the public is led about by the nose ring of instantly manufactured public opinion. Something that is equally of collective manufacture by technicians following an equally strict set of rules. Our impressions as individual entities count as naught unless they are properly filtered by conventions assuring proper interpretation as stated in Wiki or Breitbart, HuffPost or JPL. After all to step outside of the ruling consensus would deem as part of the animal world of the non-rational and dysfunctional. No, how much safer to rest upon the default of the cinematic myth of the anti-hero that we constantly cultivate remaining as separate little islands in a school of fish going upstream. Each one within the myriad of their fellows harnessed in sync to provide the most logical expected outcome from minute to minute, day to day, week to week, ad infinitum.
How different life might be if at night we could freely look skyward and erase the smog of our collective existence and see those uncountable souls hurtling through the heavens above towards unimaginable destinations? The chaos of the universal truth answering every conceivable question by virtue of incontestable presence alone. And yet, here in the course of the inevitable process of growth and decay that is called ‘life’, no one seems to have a clue of what to ask? The context of this perspective so natural to creatures in the wild but so utterly foreign and remote to those lotus eating I-phone fanciers, their attentions addictively transfixed by the witching of a mass produced mental form of enslavement. Why therefore should any venture further than the comfort of their own gasoline powered cart or WiFi wired castle to experience what is already available upon a panoply of articulated electronic devices that always provide the best view along with a mutually satisfactory explanation? So the appreciation of all things rightfully human stays within the center current and the great herd continues to pride itself upon the illusion of global mastery and perpetually perfect wisdom delivered periodically through the day like a Quizno’s or Subway sandwich.
The destiny of humanity seems no different than any other phylum or highly organized species. Our manifest destiny rolls back and forth like the pseudopodia of an amoeba. And the outcome of our collective efforts only ensure that we are still here within the present without hope of sufficiently cogent memories to propel us further into a definite sense of future. Since our eyes cannot see the heavens, we have no way of navigating any further than this place underfoot called “now”. How sad to be caught in a cage of one’s own design? To be stripped of the possibility of harboring boundless imagination by the crushing weight of daily necessity to carry on with the trivialities of competitive existence for the sake of temporal monuments and symbols of material existence that are reliably outdated many times within the transit of the lunar and solar cycles of the common terrain upon which we all rest that speeds forward faster than anything that we can build.