(cut intensively to the key words)
At some point in the not-too-distant future once the hype drained from
overleveraged credit markets
crypto fantasy dispelled,
once we’ve settled into stagflation —
people will look back at this moment and say,
“What were they smoking.”"
A rec and I share a similar view, mostly. But I do expect some stunning positive escapees somewhere in the bleak landscape.
When I was “smoking” the other day I thought more about my probably irrational conviction that with
global climate change ever more raucously proclaiming
“I am REAL and HERE NOW!”,
oil wealth protecting itself causing
severe and ever more ugly distortions of politics and policies,
various long time solid democratic states in legitimacy convulsions,
Putin Ukraine war destroying lives & wealth and the post WWII order,
these all seem to be causally linked,
bringing an end of many old normals of the world order we take for granted.
Kansas is vanishing below us as the tornado accelerates;
Oz or Prospero’s Island is ahead with “real” witches and sorcerers but also
“all powerful” humbug “wizards” and dangerous armies of muddled Calibans***.
Then I went for a nice long walk.
Pretty flowers in gorgeous Springtime and
the saplings I planted over the last four years growing with ever greater rapidity as they transform their underlying impoverished soils and earthworms have become normal!
Of the three poor country kids I have mentored these last five years
the 19 year old is packing for a summer internship doing AI at Faeebook in Menlo Park, the 23 year old is transforming small impoverished shops with his cheap custom designed mobile phone based internet inventory and ordering systems, and
the 24 year old has been put in charge of the programming at a German auto part supplier’s experimental custom CAD/CAM design shop. Their grandparents were all impoverished farmers.
How much longer will I live, and what will I be doing, and how radically should I be changing my absurdly fortunate investments and charitable commitments to fit what is coming both for me and for this staggering glorious horrifying world?
My ancient (chronologicaly ten years older than me but you’d would guess she is 100) neighbor who farms corn, chickens, pigs, and goats assures me that everything always changes more than anyone imagines, nothing really changes at all, and to enjoy my tortillas, mezcal, sunshine and bed.