I woke up this morning wondering about the world’s last night. It is bound to happen, sooner or later. The morning before that night, perhaps those alive on the planet at that time will wake up with business plans for investment (a five-year Treasury bill or buy some Berkshire Hathaway for the long haul) or sit down at breakfast to discuss taking the kids to Disneyland next month or consider the twinge in their hip and start thinking about scheduling an appointment for that ball-socket replacement they’ve been putting off for years.
One can only wonder. There’s no hard evidence that points to a specific date, let alone a specific century. All we have is the brutality of the fact that matter becomes more disorganized over time. And certain old scriptures that indicate thermodynamics and entropy have a master.
“In a moment, in a twinkling of an eye…”
Speaking of the world’s last night, the Democratic National Convention began yesterday, if you hadn’t noticed. Or if you were trying not to notice. It was a sound and an apparently joyous fury wrapped up in a great deal of wind. Chicago is not just a windy city, it IS the windy city, a thing I can attest to, having lived there for several years during and after grad school.
The first day of the convention ended on an odd visual note. After midnight, during that last night, President Biden emerged on stage to raucous cheers. He reminded me of an elderly circus bear, blinking and bewildered as to where life had brought him. Angry at his clown handlers and wistful for rest in some nearly forgotten forest (or New Jersey beach house).
Meanwhile, outside, cultural entropy exerted force on the minds of protesters and police alike. Purple-haired people of indeterminate determination screaming words that have lost their definitions. It felt like things were fraying. It feels like things are fraying. If I had to bet money, I don’t think we have a seamstress willing or capable to stitch these holes back together. At least, not a human one.
Holes. Everywhere holes. Someone or something has been nibbling holes in the fabric of this planet. Never mind Gaia BH1, brooding in its black hole darkness over a thousand light years away. Big holes, small holes, holes in the Middle East, holes in families, holes in the White House, holes in Eastern Europe, holes in the British Parliament and the tradition that began with the Magna Carta, holes in storytelling, holes in the already-empty pupils of world leaders as they genuflect at Davos, holes in the definitions of very common, simple words, holes in the minds of children. Which begs the question: what shines through all these new holes? Darkness or light?
In response, one side chants “The darkness shines in the light, and the light has not overcome it.”
The other side whispers “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”
I hope and trust that the world’s last night is met by the world’s last knight. Otherwise…
For now, I’ll leave you with some Silence, written and recorded by my second son (who often appears to be the seventh son of a seventh son with his musical inclinations).