IRA 46.1-14. Not really. Civilization is ending, but I have all I need. I’ll die before there is screaming in the streets. But there will be screaming in the streets.
I said it would be a long long time before we got where we’re going, but it’s happening faster than I thought. Too bad for you.
I wish I cared more. I really do. But you did everything I thought you’d do, everything I knew you’d do.
You just stopped. You stopped thinking, learning, working, believing, caring, in enough numbers to crumble the whole enterprise. I was never a force. I was only describing what you were already doing. My conscience is clear.
So why am I here? Vanity? Possibly. Or maybe it’s that I feel, finally, that feeling matters somehow. That even if you die after I die, I will still feel it as a loss. That’s not believing in God, mind, it’s believing in, like, aftershocks.
Buy that? What fools you are.
I’m worth more billions than Bill Gates. Who was always an idiot-savant. Great at soldering and worthless at thinking. Why I’m talking. Other billionaires. Not a Renaissance mind in the bunch. They’re all alike. Getting older and older, and all they can think of ever is acquiring more money and power, more power and money, more, more, more. Sickness. Bunch of damn nine year olds, like most men. Three Stooges fans all, if you ask them in the men’s room. Nine.
Not that way myself. I had the misfortune and great good fortune of losing the love of my life early in life. End of ambition in perpetuity. This loss saved my soul. The hard part is caring about other souls. I’m trying.
I’m not nine. Never have been. But the truth is far worse. I have seen it all, all of it, seen it whole. The cliche is that the smart man focuses like a laser, sees the transaction, builds an edifice of transactions from the specificity of his concentration on details. Some may be like that. Not me. I just saw the whole thing all the time, all the transactions, all the maneuvering, all the emotions, all the motives, all the interactions, all the consequences, all the money moving, all the everything.
Why I came to want white things. Because everything else was a stain.
This is getting longer than I thought it would. I haven’t even answered my initial question. Maybe it’s more important for you to understand that I can tell you things you need to know. Things you won’t learn from all the intellects who are supposed to know. Because they don’t have my odd capability to see everything at once. Which is, to be honest, exhausting.
We’ll talk again. Now I have to go rest on my terrace.