April 17

God knows . . . we may not win the planetary endgame.

Too many of us are wallowing in our virtual playpens while ecosystems crash outside. We say: “Ahh, I don’t really care that much about the physical world, I’m happy here in my metaverse. Whatever this dream turns out to be — rocket to transcendence or evolutionary blind alley — I’m in.” What could very well happen then over the next few decades, is that the mercury keeps rising, our planetary systems collapsing, and we’re driven to live more and more in our private little digi-cocoons whether we like it or not.

Until . . .

at some point we wake up and go, wait , what? No! No! Dammit, no! I want out of here . . . I want to go home! I want to eat a good burrito . . . make a baby . . . walk on the grass . . . bury my father . . . lock eyes with a wild moose . . .

But it will be too late.

The natural world will be pretty much gone. We’ll be deep into the next phase of human evolution . . . thrashing around on the electronic beach, destined to spend the next million years stewing in our own juices.