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Ever since I could remember, I’d wished I’d been lucky enough to be alive at a great time — when something big was going on, like a crucifixion. And suddenly I realized I was.
-Ben Shahn

Here, at the end of the week, I assume a state of tiredness that simulates the state of drunkenness in the eyes of other men. Stoked by depression and fueled by the doubt of nothing greater I continue my course. Like a train charging forwards. The train can’t really stop. But I can stand along the track and throw the switch that alters the path.

There is no more exciting time to be alive in human history than now.

It started slowly at first, tens of thousands of years ago, when man began to use tools for agriculture. The advance of technology accelerates like the expanding universe, and through the accidental twists of directed evolution we stand today with these machines smarter than us but not more intelligent.

They’ll be more intelligent before I die.

I have never had faith. I believe that the meaning of life is simply how you affect everyone else. Nobody is ever remembered for any other reason. I don’t even know the name of my great-great grandfather. The name of August, one less generation past, is a wind quietly whistling through my family tree and onto a frame in the guest bedroom. No meteorologist predicts his weather elsewhere in this great forest.

Some of the machines will have faith.

The human race has already been profoundly affected by what you see in front of you. Do you remember when people sent letters to fulfill some other need than formality? I don’t. My children will not know about ink and paper any more than I know about Vietnam. Everything is going to change. Life accelerates — the change in the way we live will be the greatest ever. The change after that will be greater still. It’s happening now. Somebody is working to make these changes. I’m in the position now to learn enough to work along side them.

I trust myself to help steer this train, and cast our race to a fate better than it stood in 1983.

But things seem to get worse, not better. Maybe I found bliss in my ignorance. Was the world like this when I was born? Are our leaders really worse than those before them, or am I just old enough to taste this wasted blood? I feel like every step our society takes is one step closer to the theoretical horror worlds prophesized by the great writers of our time.

The car is on fire, and there is no driver at the wheel. We are trapped in the belly of this horrible machine, and the machine is bleeding to death.

People die of hunger only 150 miles from the table where I cannot finish my meals. Before this semester is out we will kill the citizens of Baghdad to inflate our economy and preserve our false sense of security. I know a lot of students who chose my major because it pays the most. This machine is broken, and it’s spinning out of control.

When I stand back from the depressing moments of life, nothing immediate seems to matter:

Is it important that I enjoy myself along the way when my mission is so clear? #

I lay in bed late at night, headphones plugged in. James Taylor’s newest album sings me to sleep.

This collection is one of those magical creations that seems like it belongs on vinyl. I was listening to a perfect digital reproduction of the music, but it seemed like I had slipped the disc itself into a player, as if the medium itself was the source of the special warmth that bathes this album.

It’s one of those discs that at first doesn’t do too much for you, and gets better with every listen. After listening to the soothing album track after track in bed, I realize that it’s one of the best sounding albums in my collection. No review of this one fails to mention that it took five years to produce, and although I’m sure it only took a few months to record, it sounds like he spent all five years perfecting every track. The little touches count - the puppy dog breathing at the end of Mean Old Man, and the trilling guitar introduction to Caroline I See You. The sound is round, mature, and complete.

My favorite track is September Grass, and it’s no wonder that it’s first. But every song on this album carries its weight. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, a wonderfully appropriate closer, soars and swoons entirely on James’ voice. I could say a lot about each song on this album, but maybe you should just sit down, plug in the monitors, turn it up, and close your eyes. Although at first a few songs turned me off, I see now after a few months that the choice and production of these songs was a perfect calculation. It must be an incredible feeling to have created something beautiful like that, and know how good it is, and to wait for the people listening to slowly realize it too. #