Partial Reality

You know, I think there's reality and then, well, unreality. It's hard to imagine them mixing it up and getting along, like matter and anti-matter, but then there's humanity, stuck in a strange, contradictory existence. People are capable of self-awareness, abstraction and reflection but still mortal and witnesses to their own personal and corporate decay. 

By corporate I mean our inability not to cause the destruction of our own species, but three cheers for us anyway. The planet and universe may do well to see the end of humanity. Let's suppose it's our inevitable end and nothing to be fought against or resisted or derided, but there's an aspect to us I find intriguing, that we appear to live in permanent partial-reality.

We can't exist without some grip on things but can't get the other foot out of the swamp of insanity and compulsion. Then the alligator comes and pulls us entirely under or maybe we just give up and sink-in out of fatigue and despair. Whatever. But what do we find so compelling about the swamp of unreality? Oh, reality is our mortality and we don't like that.

Tough shit, as we used to say when I was a kid. There's a lot to be said for reason and truth and the justice of accepting our fate and living in a truly civilized way, firstly with a sense of responsibility to one another and a willingness to share the resources needed for our individual and corporate survival. Maybe there's a species version of reincarnation and we'll get another shot. 

We seem to have blown it, this time.