Last night’s descent dream: I was on a plane, heading to Idaho. Looking out the window, I saw water. Green-black waves. Not that far below. I figured the plane had malfunctioned, lost altitude. The pilot made an announcement indicating he had a backup plan. The plane reached land, and glided briefly over a scrubby grassy area before touching down on a gravel drive. I got out, and started home on foot (though I knew home was many, many miles away). A bit later, I encountered a family playing croquet. They remarked on the strangeness of my presence, but didn’t seem to mind my traversing their yard, or interrupting their game. I walked on.
In the dream, I was neither attached to the destination I was flying to nor upset about having to get out and walk. In fact, I relished the prospect of adventuring through unfamiliar territory. I did not care how long my journey might take.
What is industrial civilization’s destination? What do I see as my destination, within it?
Let’s say we take the rosiest possible view of the war machine. Where’s it headed? Toward equal rights (guaranteed by a world government), perpetual Internet access, and abundant petroleum products for all. All humans, that is. Non-humans don’t want the Internet or petroleum products, and wouldn’t know what to do with rights, since they neither spend money nor hold jobs.
Where does that leave me? Well, I could be a wildly successful cyborg-cum-author who writes brilliantly about the nuances of rights and the Internet, using petroleum products.
Yup, I’d rather get out and walk.