Not a Prediction.

I read several articles today on the issue of plastic waste and the pollution it’s causing in so many ways and places. It struck me that future generations will probably look back on the 20^th and 21^st centuries as the age of destructive decadence. Benighted kids struggling through a difficult life might well ask who invented this stuff, and why they didn’t come up with a harmless alternative before it was too late. And they will look at all the other examples of blind decadence which threw the world onto a confused and dangerous path, stuff which needn’t be enumerated because it’s already blazingly obvious.

And then I remembered that in my one and only novel I speculated that the Atlantis myth was not historical at all, but predictive of the future. Or maybe it’s both because material life is cyclical in nature as attested by the yugas of Hinduism.

And then I put it all behind me and watched an episode of Doctor Who because I don’t claim to be a seer, just a tiny speck of humanity with an imaginative mind. But a deep sense of impending apocalypse still stirs, half awake, in the pit of my stomach.