Comfort Zones are a dangerous place to lie. They deceive, they thwart. They promise consistency and predictability at the cost of high risk and high reward. Life is painful. Thinking is painful. Existing is painful. Fortunately we have been equipped with adaptation, the ability to subvert pain through constant exposure. Pressure: They say it maketh a diamond.
We toil in the mines of data, seeking to extract a better version of ourselves; one we can sell at a higher price to the covetous and the void — one we can sell to ourselves. We are the living strata of the earth, and yet we wish nothing more than to be lifeless, inanimate objects of subjective worth. If to live is better than to be lifeless, then surely it is better to be more than ourselves, more than human. Such a thing should come at a high price. We value our time. We value our assets. We do not value ourselves. Were we to do so, we would appreciate high risk and high reward. Within our very spirits would begin a fundamental change rooted in becoming the very high price we seek.
Discipline, restraint, and personal responsibility are the pillars of Human 2.0. We can not continue to exist as a self-proclaimed intelligent species when our behavior is modeled after that of the virus. We aren’t even respectful enough to be parasites. We feast until we die.
TV, Internet, information. We feast in new forms as they emerge. Where we once left physical waste, we now leave delusion, aggression, and division. We are not good enough to merit the title, “virus”, for at least a virus has a purpose. In our current form, we have none. Perhaps we are the Earth’s punishment for its transgressions.
Some predict a great change to occur in 2012, proclaiming the end of the world; others see it as the end of our current form. These prophets of prediction are a dime a dozen. Be wary of the public prophet, for they desire only to serve their ego. Listen carefully to the silent. They speak in words that need not be heard.
Wake. Eat. Work. Sleep. Wake. Eat. Work. Sleep. Again. The pattern repeats itself. Every day is exactly the same for those of us in a sick-cycle carousel. Wake, in our comfortable beds. Eat, from our comfortable stoves. Work, in our comfortable offices. Sleep, in our comfortable beds. It matters not whether these environments are physically comfortable. If it is routine, it is a comfort. We write checks from our couches and pews for to help the needy with idle hands would require discomfort. We shop online for to deal with others would distress ourselves. We captivate our minds with the Gehennas of the Internet for to step outside would require embracing reality. Reality is not as we would make it, so we bury our noses in our phones.
The Devil smiles… And we are left none the wiser.