Paul Craig Roberts' brilliant Modernity metaphor

© 2023 Peter Free


29 June 2023





I'm a doddering old person.


I do recognize (believe me) that it is time for me to go. Lest I impede humanity's Tide of Progress.


Nevertheless, I enjoy reading insightful rants from fellow passengers on our shared Ship of Generational Death.


Consider the following such.


It contains a sparkling metaphor. Perfectly suited to our decadent American times.



From Paul Craig Roberts


Grumpily speaking in a post entitled — "Thoughts on the Digital Revolution, Corporate Medicine, and Infinitely Expanding Racism" — here in excerpts:



It used to be that you dialed a phone number and at 3 rings got a real live person capable of handling whatever issue you called about.


Now you get eventually a robot that gives you numerous irrelevant options, none of which address the reason for your call.


If you have the patience and don’t hang up in frustration, the robot will eventually connect you with a real live customer representative. Allegedly.


When you do eventually get a real live person, chances are they are somewhere else on earth and barely speak English with an accent that is barely understandable.


Moreover, they do not understand you.


If you attempt to correct the problem via the Internet as they recommend, the chances are substantial that their Internet program is not up to the job.


I just now attempted to schedule some medical tests online as instructed and the system of which I have been a member for 15 years said I don’t exist.


© 2023 Paul Craig Roberts, Thoughts on the Digital Revolution, Corporate Medicine, and Infinitely Expanding Racism, Unz Review (29 June 2023)



Ain't modernity grand?


We, as northern hemisphere folk, get to sort among — for the most appealing societal style:



the American's "kill them all — and you" nihilistic model,


Russia's "the Tsar and his oligarchs are correct" — a historically verified construct,


Europe's "we're all effetely conceited and proud of it" suicidal boneheadism,




China's Lego-like, "Big Gloryfull Daddy knows best" social credit system.



All ostensibly appealing. But, at least in varying shades of potential fit, definitively not.



The moral? — I am contentedly anticipating my exit . . .


. . . from demonic avarice's American den.


As my cadaver's neurons flicker into biochemical stillness, being told that I do not exist will constitute an accurate statement of fact.


And the 'robot' will have been right.


From this, we see that even a dead culture is (at least potentially and metaphorically) correct once in a human being's lifetime.


A stalled clock beats this by a factor of two.



Provided it is of the 12 hour variety. And not the 24.


A distinction which, in itself, becomes another parable, regarding one's choices in interpreted perception.



Swooping starling flocks do, at least figuratively, quite a bit better than all three.


And they don't need robots, or avarice, to accomplish their soaring achievement(s).


Yes, I am being slyly sour — and not.