The Unwelcome New

 The Unwelcome New

Raging wind.  Power out.  Phone out.  A sneak preview of our future.

Chaos and turbulence rage.

It is glorious.

All communication is cut off.

It is glorious.

One by one Christmas decorations blow away.

It is sad.

(Bodhi kitty enters, unsettled.)

Disconnected and alone, the mind indulges in the rare opportunity, absorbing the chaos and storm.  

(Too noisy for the Bodes who flinches at a bang and retreats from the last violent burst.)

The would-be tyrants will take advantage of the growing chaos.  God will take advantage of the growing chaos.

Social DNA and spiritual genomics will battle for survival to determine what crawls out of the wreckage to become the newly triumphant politico-economic system.  In the meantime, warlords and gunslingers will reign supreme, occasionally donning the accouterments of tetrarch or judge to gain a facade of respectability.  

This prediction is no vision or prophecy, it is common sense, and a clear-eyed reading of human history.  

We will craft new procedures for selecting our priests and chieftains by whatever titles, who in reality will select themselves as they always have.  

For now the winds rage and cracks appear, the despots-to-be scurry about to advantageously position themselves for the deconstructions.  Outcomes remain hidden by the unyielding wall of time.  Tyrants and Divinity move their chess pieces on the ever-shifting kaleidoscope of society's board. 

"There will be change" declares the storm as winds of chaos strain the moorings of civilization's delicate web.  

There will be change, as there has always been change, the feared and unwelcome "new" triumphing, rising from our wreckage, rising from seeds scattered and moistened by the storm, seeds already produced, waiting, waiting, seeds cast aside in the combat of our world, seeds needing only fresh soil, exposed soil, the overlying structures stripped away that earth may breathe again.