In the Revolution (or the Apocalypse) it is impossible to tell how things are going to shake out. No one realizes what they are capable of until that realization is forced upon them. Are you a leader, or a coward? You don’t know. You can’t know. You will find out, though. The new you will be forged by force in the fires. And then, when the fighting has subsided, late one night on the outskirts of the ruined, abandoned city, eating precious beans from a discovered can with your dirt-encrusted fingers, in a momentary lapse of your battle-hardened guard, you will return, briefly, through conversation and companionship, to a time of human civility. Everyone will share their stories, who they were before all of This. Where they came from. Whom they loved. But one figure will of course remain silent. Until finally an arrogant, or perhaps just curious, fellow warrior/survivor will turn to the leader of the camp and say “what about you, sir? What did you do before the world ended?” Everyone waits with bated breath. Was he a military commander? A doctor? A school-teacher? He will pull his hood down to gather around his neck, his eyes dark-ringed with exhaustion, a look of age-old worry on his face. “I was one of the most famous rappers in the world.” People shrug and go silent. We’ve all lost something important that we’ll never get back, you know.
P.S. “I”m beasting off the Riesling”? Really, Kanye? REALLY?