The other day I was trying to cut a few flowers for the table when I accidentally lopped my head off.
I called my doctor, but the “call-valuing” automated system said there were no available appointments for fourteen months and that my insurance doesn’t cover this kind of thing anyway.
The whole thing got me down, so I threw on a mask and went for a cheer-me-up walk.
I even met a friend but the relentless tide of hopelessness was already over my head.
Luckily, I’ve never tolerated impending doom well so I had already prepared a few bits of hope to cling onto in turbulent seas like these.
I realize there is a preposterously teensy chance of humanity becoming culturally and politically sane enough to address its catastrophic problems before it’s too late. I do. Still, that’s not nothing.
Plus, it’s a teensy-weensy chance based on who we really are as naturally selected cooperators who have an evolutionarily adapted concern for others.
There’s got to be at least a sliver of hope that the qualities that got us everything we have will continue to guide us, even now that we’re eight billion large.
Sometimes this sliver doesn’t feel like much to cling to in these rough seas, but surprisingly, it has kept my head above water. Most of the time, anyway.
Read more of David’s comics and comic essays at www.OneComicAtATime.com.
