Game Over.

The human experiment is drawing to a close.

Perhaps it is the inevitable sense that the movie is coming to a close. More likely it’s the way the dying know they are short for this world.

The greatest trait of cockroaches is shared by humans: survival. This too, however cues us in to our incoming demise.

The election of Donald Drumpf has set in motion a fitting climax for the last thirty years in American politics. It is with a heavy heart and a heavier disgust for humanity that I concede that the fundamentalist christian’s are getting their wish: Armageddon is upon the earth.

It starts with the a tweet and ends with a bang. It irradiates the earth and scorches life off the face of it. The more sensible creatures, not involved in our petty illusions of gods and worth, will be paste on the molten hot craters that will pock the earth. Each on of them will be a memorial to the squabbles we couldn’t move past because some asshole in the 17th century told a lie to control the masses.

The worst truth of it all is for everyone fighting against this terrible future there are a thousand and one self righteous fools lapping up indignation like milk. They thrive on being the victim and wilt at the opening to salvation. They have found their niche and it is under a boot.

The fires that once kindled a free mind have been replaced by the complacent, vapid stares of “politeness”. We dare not discuss the difficult subjects. “There’s nothing we can do about it now”, they say.

We’ve accepted our graves. We only toss and turn to get comfortable in them.

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