We spend our whole lives worrying about the future, planning for the future, trying to predict the future. As if figuring it out will somehow cushion the blow. But the future is always changing. The future is the home of our deepest fears and our wildest hopes. But one thing is certain: When it finally reveals itself, the future is never the way we imagined it.
You sharpen the human appetite...to the point where it can split atoms with its desire. You build egos the size of cathedrals. Fiber-optically connect the world to every eager impulse. Grease even the dullest dreams with these dollar-green...gold-plated fantasies until every human becomes an aspiring emperor...becomes his own god. As we're scrambling...from one deal to the next...who's got his eye on the planet? As the air thickens, the water sours...even bees' honey takes on the metallic taste of radioactivity. There's no chance to think, to prepare. It's buy futures, sell futures...when there is no future. We got a runaway train, boy. We got a billion Eddie Barzoons all jogging into the future. Every one of them is getting ready to fistfuck God's ex-planet...lick their fingers clean...as they reach out toward their pristine... cybernetic keyboards...to tote up their fucking billable hours. And then it hits home. You got to pay your own way, Eddie. It's a little late in the game to buy out now.
Maybe God threw the dice once too often. Maybe He let us all down.