Dispatches from The Equilibrium

Seen from the far future

Joel Biroco | March 6, 2024 | Archive

Fragments of a visionary current conveying to the reader creation or discovery infused with the miraculous. A triangulation of echoes finding a wealth familiar, but everything dusty and uncared for, left by the ages as if in a hurry to burst upon the silence. I prefer the forgotten about, granted its proper time, not when it was but as it is now, in ruins. Seeing it as that when it was, and similarly the present day, at least the seemingly present day, antiquity to the far future that is my present day foregone for a while to look back here, at your world. Pointless telling you about my world when you do not even see your world and need someone from my world to tell you about it. Disastrously close to collapse now, ‘just deserts’ some of my time have called it, but having seen it for myself without the luxury of distance I am correcting the record. So many believed themselves powerless to do anything about it. Ruled by fools, corporations, and billionaires out for themselves, you did not see the hostiles set themselves up in every corner of society, you did not know you were invaded. You left it to your children to worry for you, perhaps touched now and then by leafless smoking trees in arid landscapes in their school drawing books, crayoned catastrophe proudly displayed with fridge magnets. Instead you complained at rising petrol prices and blue-haired activists with orange paint. You knew you had given up, you knew it was all too late, you knew you were condemning your children and their children, but what could you do, it was all their fault, those who took over your lives and crushed your spirit. And it was surely too late by now. You didn’t even care about nuclear Armageddon, you shrugged your shoulders and said if it comes it comes, what can I do about it? And you were right. In as much as you could do little without some serious help. You didn’t believe your planet was being observed by beings way in advance of you, who had already intervened many times largely invisibly, but, it is true, let you reach the brink of extinction by yourselves. And no-one can deny there was a species of human the world would be better off without. But they were all mixed in together. So humans would be tested one by one, for all it is obvious by now to anyone paying attention who is destined for extinction and who is not.

It was all laid down long ago, though the working of it remains covert. One might even think it random, perhaps it is, and yet one will gradually start to notice some kind of pattern developing. How did the Neanderthals disappear? Was it some ill wind that blew in that didn’t favour them? Much will hardly be noticed, it has always been the way. You’d panic otherwise! Even with your short attention spans, your trained irrelevance. Earth simply got tired of you and shuffled you off. There’s a good chance that a small group of survivors will be more keenly attuned to the idea that they have unaccountably evolved. Indeed, then the help you seek may be forthcoming. And as I have told you, these are the ruins now, the unevolved are ghosts walking. They think they’re alive, and we let them believe it until they do indeed put out their eyes with soot and ashes from the skies. Perhaps a crisp sunny morning for others, the least inclination to sit glued to the television and radio for the latest news in the destruction of the doomed. Of course it is not fair, who said anything about it being fair? When has your world held up the ideal of fairness for all? Some are protected, some are not. I do not call it karma, yet it often seems like it. Ultimately there is nothing here to argue about whether it is fair or not, little more than a rearrangement of waveforms, and the sooner one sees that the sooner one’s acceptance consigns the airburst to another cascade and one does not come back to the feared aftermath. And there is the test for everyone, you might say.