On the future of the human experiment

All universals are cheap and unworthy of investigation or indulgence; self-pity; self-esteem, leave the self alone. Self-anything is a universal; we have it in common and therefore can dispense with it. Suffering is universal; we must go beyond it. The universe does not care about our suffering; it cares about our intelligence. There’s no going ‘beyond good and evil’ but there’s a going beyond self. The age of self has come and gone; ecology if it has anything to teach us speaks with one intention and scale — the world, even universe; this place that will make or break us seems to care nothing for me or you but for us when it cares at all.

All our dialogue to pass the test of intelligence must engender optimal plurality to the point of the global.

We are “Our” or nothing at all. The universe cares nothing for my health and my success, even my groups health or my groups success and survival.

We are all hanging on the incalculably infinitesimal thread of the survival of a premie child in Uganda (?) as in Alphonse Cuaron’s Children of Men.

The last leap required a 15 year old Jewish girl. The next leap might require a 4 year old Guatemalan illegal crossing the Texan desert on foot. If you need convincing of this we can do without you or perhaps not.

Love something, anything even loneliness. The point is not the goal; it’s the loving. We exist for one thing alone, to love. Some of us will be loved back and hit jackpot. Not really. There’s 10X value in loving than being loved.

Like a space capsule all our payload should be in the very tip of the shuttle. Most of humanity, nearly all in fact will be recovered by a Tesla pad in the ocean somewhere, spent. We would have served our purpose and served us well.

Refine something, distill something, again anything. Be Japanese, or German about it -obsessive. To start; we must embrace all that is. This means the end of complaining no matter how clinical the diagnosis. Beyond this desert lies hopes of our survival. The future may have only my smile and your touch, let it not have our anger and malice. This would be enough; the intention counts for everything.

I can’t save myself, my love or my children only — which the old paradigm promised, but we can save us. There’ll be no shame in our failure, or tragedy — there’ll be nothing, not even an echo. We all win, or we all loose -everything in between is unicorns.