The Inevitable Freefall

Progress is not linear.

It surges and ebbs in fits and starts.

We languish in post-millennial despondence,

Left unsatisfied as our promised apocalypses failed to materialize.

The calendar is as arbitrary as shapes in the stars,

Yet these constructs mark our way

Plotted by the inevitable need to impose order.

This is a time for schisms as we seek to redefine our desires,

Recalibrating in the dawn of perceived new age.

In this climate, malcontents offer answers to discontents.

Cults appear, exerting magnetic appeal.

New ideas spread, but they are merely our old sins repackaged.

Orators preach on screens igniting the great revival,

Emboldened by conviction,

If not The Truth,

As we tune out the gunfire to hear them.

Supple minds bend and sway in the winds of public opinion.

Just as the casino is designed to divorce chips from the concept of money,

So does the playground of the black mirror divorce

Reality from the concept of itself.

We are all become slot machines,

Devouring ourselves like an ouroboros.

It is all hanging now in the moment of freefall,

Before the coaster descends,

Impelled by our own momentum into a future

Designed by engineers who do not have our best interests in mind.

Who needs Archons when megayachts paid for with suffering sail the seven seas?

With Big Brother’s eyes gazing down from above and

Up from the digital snitches in our hands.

Is there time enough to evolve wings,

Or are we too ensnared by the web to do anything,

But hurtle down the tracks?