How to Tell the Future

"Earthlings went on being friendly, when they should have been thinking instead. And even when they built computers to do some thinking for them, they designed them not so much for wisdom as for friendliness." -- Goodbye Blue Monday

I learned a skill from Kurt Vonnegut:

1. Consider your present situation, and imagine that situation as a point in space-time.
2. Imagine a point in space-time that represents any moment in the past.
3. Draw a line between the two points, then extend the line forward into the future.

When we look at things in retrospect, where we are today really makes a ton of sense. Consider, for example, how Gutenberg's invention of the printing press around 1450 CE led to Luther's publication in German of the 95 Theses in 1518, which led to Henry VIII's dissolution of ties with the Roman Catholic Church in 1534, which led to King James's Authorized Version of the Bible in 1611, which led to the publication of essays like Paine's Common Sense in 1776, and the subsequent Declaration of Independence the same year. Looking back, it is easy to see how the dominoes could not help but to fall as they did: the course of events seems inevitable.

When we stop to consider the most basic principles that drive history forward, these developments should come as no surprise to us. The printing press transformed one of the most fundamental functions of the human experience by changing how we communicate with each other--which is huge. Of all the qualities of homo sapiens, our development of languages as a form of communication is perhaps the most unique, and the printing press moved communication from a process that occurs among a limited group of people in a limited time and space to a process that can occur among an unlimited audience over an unlimited time and space. It is no wonder that the Romantics of the 18th and 19th Centuries were such idealists: ideas, thanks to Gutenberg, had become the new currency.

Considering the events of the past in proportional perspective can be useful as we look to the future, and everybody understands this on some level. For example, in Illinois we expect cold weather in February because we have usually experienced cold weather in previous Februaries, and we expect to experience it in future Februaries as well. Likewise, some of us can remember filling up our gas tanks for under $10 at some point in the past, so while we stand beside our vehicles watching the numbers surpass $75, we cringe, but not so much because of the outrageous effect of inflation upon our wallets today, but because we know that all too soon the average cost of a fill-up will exceed $200.

I imagine that reading the previous sentence created the following reaction among most readers: Initial disbelief, followed by measured but reluctant acceptance, followed by defiant disbelief fueled by a vague hope that something (hybrids?) will change the game and ease our pocketbooks. Unfortunately, though, history has also taught us that the more things change, the more they tend to stay the same.

This March the world has taken notice of a documentary film that calls for "justice" to be brought to a man who has created heinous acts. Insofar as the film stirs people in support of a cause, it appears to be very effective. While there are a variety of legitimate issues raised by the film, there is a much broader, more fundamental aspect of the film that really terrifies me:

The film calls for the death of a man: It asks our children to register their vote in support of this action on the Internet, asks them to wear a bracelet with the targeted man's name on it, and asks them to proselytize others in support of this cause.

If we look back through history, as far back as we can see, as far back as literature and recorded communications exist, we see a long line of struggle, after struggle, after struggle, after struggle of one people who fight another people. Let's not get bogged down in worrying about who deserves to die or not die--that isn't really the point that I am trying to make, and focusing too closely on the details of a particular case does a really good job of distracting people from the more fundamental principle presented by this video. The filmmaker himself asserts that "the rules have changed," and to some extent that is true, but to another, it is not true at all.

Yes, the rules have changed in that the way in which we choose to fight each other are continually evolving. Once upon a time we fought each other over banana leaves, now we fight each other over oil. Once we fought each other because the king told us to fight each other, now we fight each other because Facebook tells us to fight each other. Sure the rules of the game change a little (my Grandpa Estes never did get over his distrust of forward passing in American football), but the game itself never fundamentally changes.

And that is what bothers me so much about this "new" movement. The idea that all the voices of the world will finally unite in a common voice to call out for "justice" is a very, very, very scary idea. And I really wish that Grandpa Vonnegut were here to guide us through this fiasco. But the fact is, he's not here any more, except for the pieces of himself that he left inside of you, and inside of me, and maybe if we listen really closely, we might be able to hear him speak to us:

"What's this I hear about you guys deciding to kill all those poor bastards in Africa?"

"Can I have your autograph?"

"Write it yourself. I'm dead. And while you are at it, tell that new president of yours to stop trying to quit smoking cigarettes."

"But Mr. Vonnegut! Cigarettes cause cancer. They kill you!"

"They won't kill me. I'm dead. And besides, it's not the cancer that kills you: it's the being alive that kills you. Figure that out first, then smoking cigarettes stops being so much of a problem."

"I'm confused."

"Tell you what. I'll make it short and to the point. They got shuffle-board over here, and I'm up next--be there in a month or two, Adolf."

"Hitler is in Heaven?!"

"Who said I was in Heaven? What was I saying  . . . "

"About the cigarettes."

"Yeah, cancer. Listen, get this through your head quick because every moment I spend talking to you is another century I'm losing face time with Beatrice, and I gotta tell you, Dante ain't much of a player. I'm thinking with another few thousand millennia, I can win her over. The thing is, kid, you're gonna live that life for 60 or 80 years (60, if you're lucky), and then you're gonna die. And you can either spend your time chasing rat bastards under a rock every minute, or you can spend your time protecting the only thing that's worth holding on to."

"Right: Life itself."

"No, dumb-ass. Love!"

"But I do hold onto love! That's why I want to live. That's why I want to protect my family. That's why I want to keep them safe from bad guys. Without life, you can't really have love."

"Listen, you seem like a nice kid, but I can tell that this is going to take a while, so I'm gonna get back to my game--Stop kicking my biscuit, Genghis! Here's the thing, kid. You need to go out and find two people. First, go find the person who found love and held onto it. When you find him, ask him how he did it. Then, if you still need answers, go look for the guy that held onto life, and when you find him, offer him a cigarette.

"Gotta go, it's been real fun."