The world has run out of insight.
Previously assumed to be in infinite supply – its not.
What do we do when something runs out?
We pretend it hasn’t. We put our heads in the sand. We carry on like we always have. But our conclusions grow emptier, our breath stale, our vision blurred.
We dilute it. We take the wisdom of others before us, and add our own inferior commentary to make it go further. It tastes thin, weak.
We recycle it. We mix it with other wasted ideas and roll it out as new. But its structure has deteriorated. It is limp, vulnerable.
We substitute it. We dress other stuff up to make it look like it. But the seams show, the fit is ill.
We look for alternative sources. Pointless when there are none. Idealists and dreamers vanish and perish in the wilderness, lost with their stories.
We crash the party where we think they’re using it all up. Hacking. But its the wrong party. They are buying plastic boxes.
We genetically modify other related sources. But we tamper with nature at our peril. We risk everything.
Or we look for an alternative way. We acknowledge it, face the truth. In a world without insight, our conversation takes on new meaning.
We find ourselves, once again.