At some point the human race will become bored.
Bored of itself.
Bored of all things it’s ever created, and distraught about how little there is left to accomplish.
This will be the beginning of the end.
When modern civilization becomes bored of love, becomes bored of building, of changing, of trying, of following rules, of doing whats been done consistently for a few thousand years. When all the art has been made, and all the possible combinations of songs sang, sung, and rewritten. When all possible improvements to ourselves have been made. All records maximized. All thoughts had. All actions taken.
The human race will collapse upon itself.
Progress drives us. It defines us. But every room has ceiling. And every room modeled after the 2000 just like it do as well.
When the world stops innovating, when our quality of life stops increasing simply because we’re the top predator on the chain. Things will begin to unravel quickly.
Things will become strange at first. Social order will begin to crack, and crumble as the chains of expectation rust. People will give in to their inner most desires to feel different to feel unique. Horrible acts of creativity, and brutality, but even those will eventually become common place.
Things only done in the shadows of dark rooms will become the for front for all to see.
Everything you ever wanted to do. All those unholy acts of god, you can. This thought will run through the mind of every human.
Humans are curious creatures, and in their efforts to continue themselves will destroy everything. It is only due course.
The devil’s idle hands need not do anything when those with true power have no consequences stringing them along. When peace, and tranquility are achieved for long enough the tipping point will be off a cliff into a bizarre, and seemingly inhuman ocean of desperation, and panic.
All at once the music will change. And like a man chained to a cellar wall in the basement of killer already electrocuted. They will realize no one is coming to save them. As thousands of voices cry out against what was considered to be: the promised, the intended salvation of our species there will be no one to hear the deafened voice of humanity alone in the vast abysmal reaches of space. And if there is something to hear our shrieks it’s not coming to save or help us. Humanity will bleed it’s vocal cords waiting for it’s savior or it’s demolition. Years, decades waiting for something.
Driving itself mad.
And the dawn settles one day the chaos will erupt. To those with power: there is only solution to re-motivating the humanity they see before them. Casting down their fists, and then falling away somewhere hidden in the annals of time to not be remembered in any book or history lesson. They will kill people by the millions, and it will be viewed as a game. But a necessary one if they want to save the minds of millions of others. They will never been known by name, they will never be seen from, they will never be thanked, and only they will likely know what they have done.
In the perfection of a distant human centric society, the verdict so quickly becomes to save ourselves from a pointless existence we must challenge ourselves, and if no one is coming from somewhere else who better to present that challenge then ourselves? The death of half a species inspires the other half to try twice as hard. When living literally becomes pointless the only way forward is backwards.
Humanity will not end on whimper, it will not end from a disease, it will end when we no longer have reason to keep going because all is done.
Fear not the Day of Reckoning.
Fear the day of Boredom.
Stay entertained humanity, wouldn’t want you getting tired of yourself.
-A Falsely Enlightened Version of Myself.