The Official Site of Author, Joseph D. Newcomer
#Oblivion We are not doomed to repeat the past; we choose to. The defining similarity in all of humanity is the belief that we are all so very different that we could never truly coexist. It is the most defiling of self-fulfilling prophecies.
Be afraid. Be a very reasonable amount of afraid.
I’m still waiting. What will our legacy be? A friend of mine posted something on social media that reminded me of this post. It seems as a relevant thing as ever to continue to consider. The things we prioritize have no intrinsic value. If it continues, all we will leave behind is the wreckage of selfishness and possibly still not enough cash in a 401K to cover the monetary debt of our choices, but definitely not enough to pay the debt of conscience that the future will be forced to feel because of those same choices. If the soul is a reality, we’ll be leaving ours here with our counterfeit morality.
I’m waiting for that record scratch moment when something so insane and horrible happens that the whole country stops and goes “OK, wait, this is not cool!” and we can all agree on a more reasonable compromise for the better.
It may be too late. We may be past our ability to be affected as a race. You cannot change the world with words that the masses refuse to hear or believe based on antiquated traditions. We pan the solutions and stagnate progress for fear of being obsolete, unnecessary, unneeded, unwanted. We are ironically obsessed with our legacy while, at the same time, we build one we will surely be ashamed of whether or not we will ever have the courage to admit it.
I wonder about the type of person or entity that would be interested in grand declarations of faith, love, and loyalty. I wonder, and I imagine that a human, creature, or deity requiring such displays would be undeserving of them for the same reasons they require them. We are not the things that are demanded [...]
The year is 2022, and humanity is nearly snuffed out by the mountainous blankets of irresponsibly discarded, infectious disease prevention masks. In the narrow pathways between towering mask mounds, the few children still in existence play a darkly amended version of Rock, Paper, Scissors called Covid, Climate Change, Crushed by Maskalanche. The viral epidemic was [...]
Joseph D. Newcomer 