Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.
MY FEAR AND CONFIDENCE
INTO A PRECARIOUS BALANCE
Things like stairways without railings and running with the bulls have been legislatively wiped out of our culture and sanitized for your protection.
Except for the Chair Lift, one of the last remaining artifacts of potential danger in America. Dangling above a snowy death is an exhilarating reminder that you're alive, and to pay attention if you wish to remain so.