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Yesterday it was certain, a minute was sixty seconds.  Today, I’m not so sure.  Today a metaphorical earthquake is rattling  those kinds of beliefs.  Yesterday we were hobbits, today we are Gollum searching for our “precious”.   There is a crack in the cosmic egg.  Our safe, self-contained shell  is crumbling away.   It feels like the age of dis-enlightenment.  A dystopian world of irrationality is no longer futuristic.  I’m too old to fight, I’m  too frail to be stoic.  A hundred years ago it was the youth that fought in the trenches for what was right.  Does that have to happen again?  Is there anyone to  find the trim tab on the ship of state?  “I need a hero, I’m holding out for a hero” (Bonnie Tyler, Jim Steinman and Dean Pitchford)

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