As before, not again.

Being human was a thing of the past.

It happened so fast, although always they said it would never last.

Here we stand on the precipice of sentience itself, only just beginning to glimpse a greater truth, the scale of acsention.

Jacobs ladder itself, a stairway which like the christmas tree connects earth to the stars.

Forgive the outwardly christian metaphors, simply ones that effectively tell of an unknown and unknowable connection to the 'light of heaven'.

In the midst of this all
Our world rocks
Bubbles rise and fall
Dont buy stocks

Masked and not, humans all, we stand for a moment

Of unity, clarity

Of deeper common empathy
Of shared tragedy
Of fatigue and of fatigue's pain

And yet, time to be and do, to wait and see

See the weights
and see the blinders

And perhaps to glimpse that heavenly light, of which we dare not question.

Our world and fate stand as one on the brink of a decision near and past made.

To truly thrive beyond this we must all differ,
the peaks and troughs of our euphoric finance, their ebbs scarcely denting the ills of the gains made;
tied to one of our other common fundamantals 'greed';
leads steers us not, for leading is adaptive
the construct walks betwixt near unbreakable guardrails, while the trail itself can be seen trailing off into abyss ahead.
There is no departing the guardrails, and those cattle prodders at the back dont yet care for stoppage, much less questionage, and at its least, understanding.

There is progress to be made after all.

Progress, we fail to truly realise, as indeed this path is better than walking the wilderness;
Progressing along a fastening walked path of increasing rockiness towards a would be demise.

Willingly we walk

And yet this moment, unprecedented, time to think, pause; pivot
And mourn
And rage
But first, again that most difficult task to some, look beyond the span of my years and yours, and several spans further.

Dare I even mention a post-Bitcoin society?

If bitcoin is the holding pattern, what world will be birthed by its passage, its purpose, its great game?
And in that greater view, is even its mere less than two centuries existence before it burns itself out in a glorious math orgy, will at some point be considered as a 'below-average life expectancy', but what of heat and energy.

Indeed yes what.
With a truth of exploited globe, its own continued extraction pouring, weeping a whopping near half of all emissions.

Its blip, its pause, merely a sigh, barely a blip in sharpest descent.

If truly trialing ceasing the thing, does barely a bit to improve the out look, this implies that indeed we stare at our own looming 'great filter', our social mind, now new born into a collectively-covid world, and the ongoing pain which that is going to continue striving to deliver.

But I digress.
If ceasing a thing does near no thing, but cautious slowing a thing is ultimately hoppingpolitik while gigerly we agree 'its getting better', oh and by the way "you cant change it" and "it cant be done" I guess you still have places in our new world, but perhaps one of our first socio-numindedness could be to learn to look a little beyond some of these unpossicants of ours.

I've digressed again. In truth. We digress. We've digressed ourselves into near sheer oblivion.

And yet, that ladder of before, towering above us all, good old Christian metaphor.
And perhaps a little more ;)

For sentience is a ladder. And the depths and beyonds of this observable universe, the utter resiliance and translatability of material, its bioquantised recollection and responsivenss and more besides...

are a testiment to the demands, the prospects and possibilities of what could be achieved if we all agreed to for once, look up, acknowledge where we are. Its fine that we might want to put a foot on the ground again.

But endless digression over where, whence and howelse to place the aforementioned foot will not serve us as our paradoxical defining moment sweeps in on us.

At this stage trying to slow change turn is really doing nothing.
There is no transparency in capitalisim.
Jimmy goes to school term for 2 terms, if Jimmy has a bad term, they damn well make sure that report gets home, and opened, with their back doors. Poor report related probablistic clouds ensue, before ultimately closure, and either improvement and success or additional lashing. Eventually the pain teaches.

I've jested in that last digression, & let that be the lesson.

But seriously now.

Capitalisim, I heard you had a bad quarter from the IMF, they looked quite strict, wheres the report card?!?

• SO YOU DID COMPOUND INTEREST SAVING FOR > 2 CENTURIES BUT COULDN'T USE THAT MONEY TO PAY FOR < 3 MONTHS?
  ~ >00f<~
• SO YOU FOUND THOSE MEASURES TO BE DRACONIAN BUT THEN YOU COPIED CHINAS ANSWER THAT ITS NOT DRACONIAN, aaaaannnnnnnnd then you based your whole essay on that, ookaayyy. So Saturdays tutoring is back on.
  ~ >00f<~
• I SEE IT SAYS THAT YOU HAVE FAILED TO MOVE THE MONEY FROM THE BANKS TO THE PEOPLE, EVEN THOUGH YOU HAVE ASKED THEM TO MOVE IT please. HONESTLY HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU REPEATED THIS SUBJECT? 200 TIMES???
  ~ >big00f<~

Look rant over. That wasnt comfortable. This wanst a single free writing piece but it was most of one. And possibly not all of one.

Lets try be real here. We cant really stop the cart, and slamming breaks didnt help either, so to those stuck on the floor it may really look like a time to change direction, and it might be, but that direction might be up. Upwards, on and up into the upper reaches of sentience (1 single rung higher - better social-mind thingy so that we can get ideas together good better, oh AND GET FUCKING AUDITIBILITY TRANSPARENCY ACCOUNTABILITY (probs less counters tho s0z) oh and maybe A REPORT CARD

Thank you.
I'll be here all week. In.
the.
same.
damn.
room.