…for me, independence wins out.

I suppose I could create an infographic that shows how political systems connect to the average citizen – locally, regionally, nationally, globally – and, thus, why I should care who is or who isn’t in control of the flow of collected pools of citizens’ cash.

Or not.

But, bored with naysaying as a means of motivating the troops, I yawn.

I am just one body, after all, that’s going to live and die.

For that, I am truly happy, although momentary apathy varies the level of happiness.

I always knew this would happen – deciding to take on the whole planet as a simulation, a computer game, a what-if analysis – and then running out of new challenges to move me out of game-theory ennui.

I’m not the sort of person who has to compete against my fellow species’ members.  The system (the storyline) I created is so much greater than any of us that competition against one or many of us pales in comparison.

My imagination is free to roam wild, no matter where my body may actually be sitting – stuck in automobile/airplane traffic, slouched on the couch watching moving images on a shiny flat surface of living room furniture (i.e., the television), typing here, meditating during a walk in the woods.

While wealthy participants in the world economy game want to figure out how to motivate independent people to get back into the game of making the wealthy wealthier, I ask myself if full employment is a permanent illusion, a fantasy of previous times.

What if some of us are no longer interested in perpetuating old economic systems?  What if we no longer desire to prop up ravenous, greedy, gluttonous profiteers?  What if we’re willing to erase large sums of ill-gotten gains from the books of those trying to figure out how to “save” off-balance rigged accounting journals, no matter how much the journal keepers swear they followed GAAP rules?

I mean, as an average person on the street, does it matter if the rich (I’ll include myself here for the moment, to feel the pain) have 200x of their needs or 2x of their needs?

Does my independence depend on where these piles of imaginary cash reside and who’s protecting it?

Is my independence an illusion, too?  After all, somebody’s out there competing against Mother Nature to protect crops and livestock to sell against others in the marketplace for my convenient consumption to expand and expound, at my leisure, the marketplace of ideas.

After all is said and done, after complete knowledge of a macrosystem’s effect on microsystems, does my vote in upcoming elections count?

In other words, if economic power brokers are greater than individual (or the sum of all) political power brokers, what interest should I have in deciding the fate of those running for political office?

If we, the majority of the peasantry, don’t care what the feudal lords are doing, as long as we can get something to eat while tending our families, do we care what the lords are shouting at each other in pretending to care about us, knowing the system is greater than all of us?

At five, I realised the ideas in my head were greater than me.  Ever since then, I’ve played along with the adults in the room who pretended that they’re greater than the ideas in my head.

Forty-four years later, I still see the ideas are greater than any of us.

The greatest of these ideas: we advance life off this planet.

If we don’t, meaning everything else; that is, noise, interference, distraction – in other words, the rest of the system – won.

Which means we lost.

That’s why I don’t compete.

Ideas are independent.  They live and they die.

Just like me.