It’s been quiet for a long time. Exceptionally quiet. And why shouldn’t it be? Things are humming along in a manner that is satisfying to one and all. No one’s really needing to work. Everyone’s getting to gamble. And it’s easy to turn a profit. I’m sure people would like things to be like this until the end of time. Naturally.
It is said that the wisest words ever uttered were: “And this, too, shall pass.” Although people don’t want the firehose of free-money and risk-free profits to ever end, it will. I have no basis for saying so except the entirety of human history. It’ll end. And it will do so for reasons none of us are imagining.
Part of the quiet, incidentally, is in my own inbox. Tumbleweeds blow by, dust collects, and no missives sully it. I shouldn’t complain, though. I’d rather it be empty than full of anger. Empty isn’t so bad for a little while. The world has just the right mix of complacency and shock to not need to say anything.
It wasn’t this way thirteen months ago, of course. I decided to take a glance at the kinds of emails I was getting in March of 2020, which was a period of absolutely unprecedented and explosive growth on Slope. I could barely keep up with all the activity. The emails ranged from spiritual………....(I have redacted some bits)………..
………..to apologetic…………
……….to ambitious……….
……to weird……….
……..to grateful:
What a time that was! There was so much energy, and it seemed all wrapped in sunlight. And yet now:
This is my 17th year of doing this. And it’s never felt this bizarre. Absolutely, positively, no-questions-asked bizarre. Plus dull. Boring. Beige on grey. Plain oatmeal. And it’ll end one day. And I’m not going to miss it one little bit.
