Zealots, Crackpots

Jack says, “Fantasies get thick when I think the end of the world is coming or here, and calculators can’t save us with estimations of loss or predictions of failure and science, the process by which we discover, will be as baffled as our mothers and fathers, who were sure the world had time left when they had us but now they curse in bed, ask each other whose idea it was anyway, “Why the hell?” still telling us that swearing’s a mark, caffeine, alcohol, any kind of sex, greed, and adultery too, but we’ve never worried about the rules much, because you’ve got to have someone before you can cheat on them and there are worse drugs than coffee and we’ve toyed with those and we’re still here and now the countdown clock says it’s within our spans we try what we never have, don’t stock up at the supermarket because that’s just prolonging what’s on the bound, and we want to go first just for the experience of it, and we totally envy the ones selected for ascension but we made our choice the second we chose Big Brother over Bible study – we had the chance to read it cover to cover in a year, the accuracy of that actual version somewhat debatable – but we chose 24 hour live feeds instead, we’d never felt more connected to others, and the webcam runs now, is a silent background capturer when we kiss and undress and we know what it’s like to feel famous and we’ve never wanted something else and if we had shelter we wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

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