They didn’t see it coming, straight into the storm, the human storm, not the weather forecast, satellites, they should invent one for the human race that isn’t powered by money, feck it, when it’s a snow storm of cash, it blinds everyone, well, those things you could never do, suddenly your world brightens up, I can really be like that, how the eyes open up. Parents, their nightmares begin, it was fun in the beginning, now they realize that any sod can befriend their child, and there is nothing they seem to be able to do about it, apart from read of the despair elsewhere, those distracting headlines, as if they can recall them twenty four hours later, a distraction, while the nightmare returns, their child addicted to the machine, and if it isn’t that, well, the dealer can provide the rest.
Solomon sighed, it was the story of the wise bird, looking for love, a mate, someone to play around with. When in the zone, bird can do the dance, flash the feathers, do all sorts of things, to impress the mate, bingo, we got a connection. Then the nest building commences, the future is being created, and they need to supply the foundations, not any old tree, somewhere safe, they don’t want to be blown away. Then bit by bit, they gather, the new life arrives, the work continues. If the bird knows all this, and they all do, how come the human type never seems to get it right, always distracted, eyes wide shut as stanley would put it.
The old words come to mind, He sent the prophets, they partied while Noah built the ark, amen.