It took me far too long to accept that some processes simply cannot be fixed. Not by me, not by you, not by any mortal swinging a hammer at the tectonic plates. And if even Elon—patron saint of improbable turnarounds—has quietly reached the same conclusion, then we’re dealing with forces well outside the reach of human intervention. These aren’t “issues” that yield to committees, elections, or wishful thinking; they’re tidal shifts.
Nothing—absolutely nothing—on this Earth is going to halt or reverse what’s bearing down on us. The deluge of idiocy, the metastasizing debt bubble, the woke carnival, the anti-woke counter-carnival, the daily barrage of engineered madness—all of it hurls itself at us with the inevitability of gravity. And yes, the slow, grinding descent of entire nations into default, fragmentation, and in some cases, the kind of brutal, messy outcomes that history usually describes with euphemisms like “realignment” or “reconfiguration.”
I’d love a button, a lever, a cursed amulet—anything—to stop the spiral and rewind the clock. But desire doesn’t matter. Intention doesn’t matter. The avalanche doesn’t pause because you glare at it long enough.
What’s going to happen will happen.
All any of us can do is prepare on the only level that still counts: the personal one. Harden yourself. Make your life tougher, more resilient, more difficult to crush than the average citizen drifting along in a state of hypnotized complacency. Become the type of person who doesn’t get flattened when the system’s skeleton finally gives out.And yes—enjoy the show. If you can’t prevent the fall, you may as well claim a front-row seat and marvel at the spectacle.