Nuclear Winter Has Arrived

But understand this:
If the owner of the house had known at what time
of night the thief was coming, he would have kept watch
and would not have let his house be broken into.

Of course, that doesn't apply if you're a Trumptard with no sense of self-preservation. There's no hope for those people as they will self-annihilate despite the best efforts of God and the Universe. Our fairy tales and willful thinking have come home to roost. Since we refused to end the insanity on our own, Nature is ending us instead. In a monetized viral-pandemic society, one is either pro-virus or pro-starvation/homelessness. It didn't have to be that way. Still doesn't.

But that's the (beginning of the) price we pay for holding onto our cold hard cash. Going to be a horrific ride on the way down as Nature has no ears for our clever political arguments nor time for coddling our precious lies we so solemnly honor. Yes, one does not have to believe the "truth will out" for it to happen. Sweet!

I went to survey the damage firsthand, wandering through downtown Dallas on a Friday afternoon that had only a drop of the usual torrent of traffic in both people and cars. In fact, the majority of those I did find walking about were the homeless and the already abandoned - whose ranks are about swell many fold.

God will not ask us why we didn't take care of each other, only if ("Well, you see, the socioeconomic conditions did not allow for wholesale handouts plus you just can't go around helping everyone until they prove they deserve it and..."). It's all garbage to God's ears.

Our insides beget the outside. Our personal hollowing leads to external hollowing. Casting out emotional lepers casts away also any chance of hope for us all.

At first we thought it was just another snake cult, but the movement to make incompetence holy and even desired has taken storm round the world as morons rejoice in their brief and flickering time of power in the twilight of what we've deemed civilization. Do not ask where has the love of God gone. Ask where we have gone.







There's no song in my heart to be sung. In winter, seeds are dormant, waiting for the time to sprout. But until that time, we won't know many seeds have made it through the wintry frost intact. Resist the urge to "fix" winter's cold and hold on for the Springtime of life to come. The longer winter lasts, though, the more the doubt Spring will ever come - but come it will.

Fire banked in the hearth;

Shadow of the waiting guest

Is on the far wall.

- taken from Basho