Chilling. Pun intended. My misanthropic nature is in high alert this time of year, anyway. Sigh
By James Wallace Harris, Tuesday, November 25, 2014
Do not read this if you are depressed or are easily depressed. I’m not kidding. I hope I’m proven wrong. I really do.
I write this on the day I turn 63, while thinking about the future. Usually I’m extremely positive about the future, probably because I love science fiction. However, if I wrote a science fiction novel today I’m afraid it would be a pessimistic apocalyptic novel. Normally I hate being cynical, but I thought for this essay I’d let it all hang out. I’ve spent my whole life assuming we were getting smarter and we’d become a rational species before we made ourselves extinct. I now think I’m wrong. We’re going to cross the finish line before we can get our shit together. Up until a century ago, the world was safe because there wasn’t enough of us, and the…
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