In a civilisation saturated by crisis, distraction becomes therapy.

Fixation on distant wonders offers relief from the entropy within reach.

Still, someone needs to keep watch on the blue one we’re standing on.

The economy rests on suspension -- a fragile equilibrium mistaken for strength.

Consumption props up confidence; confidence props up currency.

The tower still stands, though no one remembers which block keeps it upright.

Civilisations remain theological at the core; they simply re-encode belief through new symbols of authority.

Every ideology borrows faith’s scaffolding -- priests, blasphemy laws, rituals of purity -- while declaring its own neutrality.

When systems can’t regulate profit, they ritualise villains.

The Shkreli story endures because it conceals the market that made him inevitable, draping systemic pathology in the costume of a single villain.

Civilisation runs on devices so combustible we can’t lose one without rerouting from Rome.

The ancients feared divine fire; we fear lithium-ion. Progress, allegedly.

The question has shifted from whether AI is a bubble to what form it takes.

Tech and marketing are consolidating again, exuberance now embedded in the architecture itself.

Capital pools where compute centralises, and investors will flee where integrity is flubbed.