If one carries the paper bag too many argument forward to some stilted logical conclusion, one finds one’s self staring at a rather innocuous conclusion that a single tree is ecologically more important than the forest sitting behind it whose collective view is blocked. To take this a step further if one can look up for a moment from the tiny ocular of their I-phone’s display to engage in direct eye contact with another human being, then is not the insecurity of our finite universe enlarged by a quantum level of measurement?
Is this an attack on individualism or solipsism?
After all, we all now should be acquainted with the fact that the face staring back at us from the other side of the mirror is one of our anonymous governmental handlers who is tasked with observing the slightest characteristics of our everyday routines for the sake of maintaining national security. Think then about how habit and routine are essential to the economic health of this current technocratic driven economy where nothing allows an inventory to pile up beyond a predicted demand or expired date of usefulness. Twinkies and McDonald’s french fries aside. nothing stays unchanged or the same over the long haul of history. The forests come and go as do civilizations at the hand of populations of different species under the direction of the universal god that we now officially refer to as chaos. Is it not a useful thing to anchor one’s self upon a buoy that reflects the best memorable instants of an all too mutably short existence?
The good old days are good because the reside in the impenetrable fog of the past!
How can so many be resistant to the notion of singularity considering that locust swarm of a never ceasing flood of competitive humanity? Has everyone forgotten those traumatic tugging match held over one’s favorite toys recently recovered from a rival infant’s tiny paws? The terrible evangelical pronouncements of politically corrective invocations for one to unrepentantly offer up one’s most favorite material childhood companion to share with that other smelly diapered careless barbarian? Considering that many, if not most now recall early childhood as naught but a pint sized barracks filled with such combative incidents with tiny strangers, can one blame one for compulsively seeking the illusion of control in the magic mirror instruments readily available in the palm of one’s own mitt?
Better to feel like your in with the in crowd and appear to know what they know!
And so we salve our sins and secret wishes to corral everything and everyone else in the squeeze our potent grasp and silently assent to the disbursement of that single ineffective paper container which when overloaded with more groceries than we can probably afford tears at the handles and withers in strength at the first few drops of rain. Yet we silently submit to the addition to another possible complication to a life fraught with endless trivial struggles that displace any time for contemplation of who we might be. Or what is it in the Hell that we really really want in the first place?
So off we go in silent rage because we fear being classed with the ‘many’ lest we be crushed by the kindred spirits of the ‘few’.