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No wonder we’re restless, teetering on the edge, frustrated by our addictions to fakery and excess, starved for what cannot be marketed or made profitable, so it no longer exists except in the shadows.

The smart money is selling, of course, for the clanging indicators are the dinner bell announcing the banquet of consequences has been served, and Nemesis doesn’t want the meal to get cold.

And so here we are, exhausted by the divisions, the frustration, the rage and our loneliness in a sea of madness few even see.

We need a new definition of Progress, and a reset of the mythology guiding our descent into “Anti-Progress”.

Or we can let the bubble implode under its own weight and have a plan ready to clean house when the dust settles.