The NY Times has a cover article today about how our world is beginning to boil. The climate is shifting faster than we thought; we'll suffer the consequences sooner than we thought. Our children will begin to kill each other.
It seems like a particularly inopportune time to be raising a baby.
Of course, we humans are skilled at ignoring unpalatable truths, because as soon as we are born we begin to hurtle toward death. We grow and thrive entirely within the shadow of our own ends, and forgetting this fact is among the most critical of our tasks.
Ergo, this morning: I read the article, turned over the paper, and went to get some coffee. I will die, and my daughter will die, and our deaths will contain some measure of horror, but we'll probably last through today's cup.
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