I am both a particle, and a wave.

What if we lived in a world where the sun, moon and stars took random diurnal paths, dropped themes only to pick them up again days, weeks or years later? Instead, the years, days and months spin on with near-mechanical predictability (despite our new age obsession with quantum physics) and only my mind is able to be in two (or many) places at once. 

Here, however is one thing as predictable as day follows night, and pounds follow pound cake:  
People (alone and in groups) are so comfortable in their own ruts, that they would rather stay safe and miserable than take a risk on being happy. 

Anyway, I'm starting something new. And I think I just can't do the substack thing any more. It's further fragmenting my already fragmentary consciousness, as being both alive and dead, a particle and wave. 

I'm actually really excited about my next project. 

From Utopia to Dystopia: A History of the Future from Thomas More to the Present

I know, I know. Sounds like a barrel of laughs. But I'll keep it light. 

The Genesis of the idea: As a semi-pro marketer in the field of Communication Arts, I've become addicted to a theory that the stories and art forms are the collective unconscious of a culture. That our movies, books, films, tv, ads and yes bulletins from the Camp Pencramp Camp Counselor (aka blog post) are our dream life. The expression of our deepest desires, fears and obsessions. I mean this literally. 

And I've been increasingly interested in the fact that we no longer create castles in the air, cities on the hill, but just bleak visions of how we're going to navigate the inevitable collapse. 

When I say words like "hope" why does everyone say "yeah, right?" 

I know it's going to be as tough as taking the ring to Mordor. But let's see, how should I say it - if I was reaching into my copywriting back of tricks? 

Introducing Optimism. All-new, for 2026. 

"Watch this space."