In the old days, we would use sages, oracles, fortunetellers and technological/economic forecast analysis experts to pin future bad news on our perceived enemies.

A new type of consciousness emerged, however, and turned us away from creating enemies out of one another.

To be sure, we can’t stop the impediment of history where subcultures, unwilling to fully merge with the growing consensus, form those side pools and eddies that spin off of pebbles we dropped in the pond eons ago and start to sour rancidly.

C’est lava, as the vulcanologists like to say to earthquake predictionists.

Share and steal alike — no matter, mon!

The crystal ball was made of 79.5618003% pure cocoa, inviting hungry card readers to the table for a séance with the ghosts of vanilla beans past.

It was a monstrous mash of fermenting corn.

All of a sudden, the future was so shaded, we had to invite the Brights to explain the cost-benefit ratio of secularism to moral imperatives at the imperial palace of executive privileges.

But we’re cool with that.

A cup of tea with dice while throwing rice stalks to read the divination tables was more comforting to the picotrading subroutines than algorithmic hanging chads in the deserted Saharan mountains of Chad.

We decided our fates were written in the stars already.

Cast words to the wind and let the weighty wheat separate from the fluffy chaff.

We sew blankets and quilts of symbols every day for your warmth and security.

Some of you will eat our words.

The spoils of war are no more.

These days, we’ve joined forces to compete against the harshness of outer space, where the only indication of winning is being alive another day to observe and report the changes we’ve forgotten we documented before the last time we documented that we forgot to forget that we documented our good fortune in continuous cycles of bliss.

Happiness is contagious — pass it on!