All That’s Left
I suppose this is a trend of people approaching near-panic about saving the city/state/country/world will grow only more frequent as the lug nuts come loose from the wheels of this dundle-cart to oblivion, one by one, everything inside gettin’ nice and wobbly.
It seems I’m going to have to keep saying it, then:
There is no saving it.
It’s all over.
Your anger will not bring restitution; your compromise will not bring resolution; your votes will not bring restoration; the process will not bring you relief.
Dissent is only an act of defiance if it takes place outside of the system. Otherwise, it’s an ingredient for which the bakers have already accounted; it’s baked in and ready to be cooked out before the timer goes off.
The next election is meaningless. Your vote therein is impotent. The ship is taking on water, the crew is punching holes in the hull from the inside-out, the rudder fell off and the passengers are bickering over who the next captain should be. For all the points on the bridge’s compass, there’s but one direction, and the captain has nothing to do with it anymore.
Save the rage. Save the admonitions and recriminations. We had our chance for that decades ago when it might have mattered.
Let it sink.
Let it go.
Let this folly be our lesson to posterity.