Hope and the Apocalypse

One of the side problems of the total history world we are moving into, where all history is prescient is that we develop a certain jadedness to problems which in the past we were able to deal with by summoning a kind of belief necessary to overcome them.

The specific instance of this I'm interested in dealing with today is the perception of apocalyptic literature and prophecy in the modern era. In the past, apocalyptic literature typically arose during times of great societal stress, generally around certain year types, but not always(side point, it's interesting the correlation between time which is for all intents and purposes man created, and the chronal aspects of apocalyptic prophecies--you always need a date, if only because we wrongly assume all aspects are moving in concert according to our own perceptions of time, when they are as incongruous as the planets (time for a plant is diffrent than time for a human, as is time on Venus is different than time on mars (time is diffrent for someone who has lived longer and whose perspective of time is as a much more fleeting thing, than someone experiencing it for the first time and for whom it must feel interminable)). Many people wrongly dismiss Apocalyptic art as being doom, and in that being bereft of hope and not serving any real purpose for them.

However, the function of Apocalyptic art is oftentimes completely about hope. An end point prescribes value for the individual on the now. If you think that you have ten days left to live, then those ten days become very valuable, and the things you do in them take on an increased importance to you--whereas if you have an interminable amount of time left, then those moments may not feel valued at all.

But why do we need this value? We need it as a survival mechanism. Because there are times in human history, that money, food, shelter, and quality of life are all very much on the wane. And during those times the only thing we can value is our time, and the possibility of our pain ending. In those times, doom becomes hope. The notion that everything will be washed away and a new beginning will be attained is very appealing to those in duress. Apocalyptic writing like dystopian writing is as much a reflection of it's time as it is a projection into the future.

The problem arises, that because of postmodernism, the internet, and the overflood of information, the ability of the human mind to respond effectively to apocalyptic art has been severely compromised. It becomes a boy crying wolf situation. And what happens in that story, which is significant, is that eventually a wolf does come, and the boy is crying wolf, but nobody is listening.

You see this more and more as a response to issues that require people to sacrifice for the greter survival of the species. Such as the American response to global warming, which has been a grumble at best and at worst a willful denial of the oncoming crushing reality. Global warming is seen by many as the new Y2K bug. And this is a direct result of the past knowledge that the post information society has instinctively absorbed into it's sub-consciousness.

The worry I'm expressing here, is that our basic instinct to be wowed by the sublimity of apocalyptic vision has been sufficiently beat into the ground, such that we are in fact heading for a coming apocalypse, that is more likely than ever, because we are lacking in our normal ways to adapt and change to the on-rushing eschaton.

Actually, worry probably isn't the right word. Because I do think the event that does happen is going to result in an evolution of the species. So it may be correct to lens this jadedness as yet another aspect of our general evolution to the eschaton event. Like, very plant following the sun over the horizon.