Things to Come

In 1936, H.G. Wells, in the aftermath of World War I, amidst increasing global tensions, considered Things to Come.

Celebration abounds in the present as another Holiday Season wondrously invigorates, families and friends laidback ensemble to regenerate anew.

But mad imperialistic ambition soon disrupts the lighthearted revelling, and the world descends into total chaos for woebegone cataclysmic decades.

Torn apart, global networks in ruin, a plague ignominiously spreads, and feudal discourse slowly reemerges, as "might-is-right" bluntly takes control.

They see no need for peace in Britain and conflict continues to rage indiscriminately, but since industry is strictly nominal mutual armaments remain indisposed.

On the continent, a different ethos takes hold as cultures regroup, dedicated to scientific expenditure aligned with utilitarian progress.

As time passes innovation ascends, and worldwide reckonings muse collegial, but too much of an emphasis on work eventually ignites inspired criticism.

An apocalyptic vision of the future wildly ascertaining in the film, well versed in grim foreboding and utopian desire.

I'm wary of utopian impulses myself, these days, which lack sincere considerations of the present, too much of a focus on futures unforeseen ignoring blatant systemic disparities.

The ends too often justify cold calculating austere means, which fit well within specific formulae lacking cohesive particularity.

Too many variables to take into account to assure viable collective movement, without forceful binding shackles predisposed to dis/integration.

The desire for change the fluidic instinct grows weary of perennial plans, the constant elevation of rhetoric whose meaning fades without results.

If you consider utopia periodically as opposed to an eternal strain, it does pop up from time to time like mutated verdant grains.

Inasmuch as periods even decades flourish with general prosperity, but sustaining that prosperity indefinitely remains generally elusive.

Perhaps it's spiritually profitable to maintain some lofty goals on the horizon, in order to dispel depression if the present seems rather bleak.

But obsessing about them or defining yourself through them or conspiring to obtain them can leave you blind, to everything else that's happening as steady robust lives unwind.

Perhaps focusing on the present and patiently rockin' it with reasonable means, generates vibrant contemporary futures for daily grindin' dreams.

Many have written about how happy people are in less well-off countries, despite comparable incomes or goods and services. 

If you aren't considering the future how does anything ever change?

If you're living within a prosperous racially-inclusive generally-employed sporty well-educated environmentally-sound present, is there much need for tectonic shifts or grand prophetic technological innovations?