A lot to say. Not much to say.

As I get older (a phrase I never thought I'd say in earnest) I realize that I have a lot to say about life and other phenomena in general. It's so much to say that I end up saying very little. Examining my reasons for remaining quiet shows me that the things I say would be unpopular, out of favor, and generally off-putting. The cure for this? The best outlet I have is fictional writing. To date, I haven't really made any bold statements or provided any serious messages in my fictional writing. I've tried to tell a story that's bigger than the events that take place in them and convey the possible parallels in our every day life. You'll see that most strikingly in my newest novel in the Owen Hunter Trilogy Series, PREVAIL.

Sure, you can laugh it all off. It's just fiction after all. But I don't know for sure. I can't say it's entirely fictional because we see ever more striking similarities with what I've written (you'll see what I mean if you read the new novel when it comes out) and what's been taking place in the news. I've tried to make my novel more outlandish than what happens in the news, and I think I've succeeded on that score. But as time goes on? I guess we'll see.

On the other hand, I try to never take anything I feel I have to say too seriously either. It's better to have levity in my thought processes than all seriousness. The more I've perused Facebook the more evidence of humanity's collective psychosis is in full swing. From one extreme to another, like a crazed monkey on a jungle gym course. 

What I notice most of all (and I'm not saying this is good or bad as things go) is the rage and outrage people are expressing about the world we live in. I've said this before but I'll say it again here: history repeats itself in ever more clever and bolder iterations. I know it's 2016 and I know we should be looking at this Utopian world that science fiction writers of yore have painted for us by now, but that is precisely where we get tripped up: our notion that the 21st Century ought to be a certain way already. And it isn't. And it won't be for a very long time. And if I should venture into the murky water of voicing my own opinion on the matter, then I should say things will not be getting better over time but worse. That seems to be the mad trajectory of our species. For every luminary the world so lovingly holds, there are four hundred million idiots who are ruled by their base emotions (fear, anger, jealousy, arrogance etc.) I needn't explain the odds, or do long maths here, should I? And yes, maybe it's a gross exaggeration of the luminaries to idiots quotient, but I'm not sure by how much.

Regardless of this fearsome shadow, nay this setting of the sun over humanity's collective altruism and goodness, we can focus on the luminary aspects within us. Sometime's we are the villain, the bogeyman, the monster under the bed, and sometimes we're the hero or heroine who thwarts that aspect of ourselves back into the dark crevices of the unconscious from whence it arose. But much of the time, and here is where we are all implicated in the crimes against humanity itself, we are the 'innocents' who do nothing about any of it. Our refusal to play a part is playing the part of allowing the bad and the stupid to continue it's down-spiral and insane collision course with who-only-knows-what. 

Irrespective of the above I am a die-hard faithful in humanity. You might call me an optimist, but I think I'm a cautious-optimist. I think we can make it as a species for a few hundred more years, assuming Mother Nature doesn't tire of our antics and sneeze into extinction, or an asteroid makes it past all the necessary gravitational pulls of bigger more powerful planets and careens into ours without distinction or mercy and wipes us out first. Because for all of our myriad foibles and predictable imperfections as a species, the brighter stronger side is also there for each of us to cling to and expand on. 

If we choose it.