This Century Sucks

Nothing quite like a major earthquake and a number of reactor explosions to put things in perspective. Thousands of people have been swept away, with more in imminent danger of nuclear disaster, and the sole innovation in the world’s response compared to that of the last century is the ability to donate money at the click of a mouse button. I am well aware that the whims of natural force will always undo the works of man, but still global reaction falls far short of what anyone in the past would have envisioned from the futuristic sounding 2011.

Is it just me, or does this century suck? We partied like it was 1999 and for a grand total of nine months there was hope—hope that this century wouldn’t be the dismal parade of horror the last one was—and it lasted a grand total of NINE MONTHS. No peace dividend. No nothing. It’s been wobble, wobble, wobble ever since then.

Nearly every single innovation of this century has been something we could have well done without. I am talking about crummy little radios replacing telephones. I’m talking about electronic impulses replacing money. Two businesses—two—Google and Craigslist destroyed the newspaper industry. Web pages have replaced magazines and to some extent office parties. When compared to the oft anticipated flying cars and life on Mars, it’s all pretty damn underwhelming.

And the whole lot of it makes me wonder if we have allocated our resources wisely. As opposed to tearing up the ground for broadband or investing in faster and faster chips to do faster and faster things in smaller and smaller things, maybe we could have come up with an effective warning system for seismic activities or created a global rescue armada ready for immediate deployment anywhere around the world. It’s not like we don’t know we are going to have disasters. But no. The money went for little chat boxes which tweet and other nonsense. And at least some of it, if what we read is true, came from cost savings on not doing nuclear safety inspections correctly. I hope the shareholders of that company are proud.

I do not normally like to stray from my beats, but on occasion—like one thousand people washing up on a shoreline as if they were errant-directed schools of squid--and contemplating the prospects of some 300 tons of reactor fuel becoming partners with the air I breathe—I need to pay attention to a world I no longer remotely understand. For some strange reason, a button to donate with just does not seem enough.

Where is the special gas that cools down reactor rods? Where are the anti-grav Earth movers? Where are the suspended animation chambers people could run into? Failing that, where is the evidence of a just and kind God? Nowhere, that’s where. This is your stinking new normal.

(Wow. I feel much better now.)

Next: A list of upcoming topics, starting with Prosperity Theology. All of this is, of course, pending the world not coming to an end.