I think I found out what the problem is
My head is not screwed on right
Well I took my sweet time about it, didn’t I?
I mean, I’m 47 years old. I probably should have realized this before my midlife crisis hit. At least, I suppose this is what it’s all about.
I used to think that the world has problems. It doesn’t. I am the problem.
I thought that it was irrational to pillage the natural resources of our planet to fuel our ever growing economy, all the while poisoning the air, the soil, the water and destabilizing the climate. You know, the very things that make our survival possible. But it’s not.
Obviously the economy growing is the most important thing. The economy needs to grow constantly, so that our ever increasing debt remains viable. I used to think that debt was a bad thing or at least a temporary means to get a business going. I was wrong about that too. It doesn’t matter if world debt spirals into the hundreds of trillions, we can always outgrow it.
I used to think greed was a bad thing. That it led to waste. But it’s not. It’s the oil that keeps the engine running at full speed. Waste is just a necessary evil. It’s obvious that there is no other way for human civilization to function. We need to keep growing.
Until someday, inevitably, there will be no more room to grow. We will need, what was the word? Ah, yes. Lebensraum. And the best way to claim it is war. We know all about war. We’ve been practicing it for millennia. It’s probably our best skill. To kill. What’s the use of learning something, perfecting an art, if not to practice it?
And along with technology and growth, our skill at killing grows. We can now do it at unimaginable scales. At distances which the eye can’t even see. I used to think that war was a bad thing. But it’s really not. Science and technology advance because of it. The weak are culled. Those who can make better use of their resources prevail.
Everything is a resource. Even people. Especially people, since they are the one resource that is truly renewable. However many you kill, more will take their place. Two world wars, famines, diseases, countless smaller conflicts, the births and deaths of empires and civilizations. And yet people always multiply. They’re like cockroaches. Cockroaches are supposed to even survive a nuclear war.
We can always find out.
