Kissed By A Tidal Wave

The beautiful funeral of it all.

Feb 27, 2025

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While there has been a lot of nuance to the first half of the 2020s, it's clear, especially now, that we witnessed the end to overarching structures.

Overarching is a bit of a weird concept, when you step back to think about it. Here are some things that overarch: the sky; a very large tent that you sit under; a bridge of meaning between two points in time.

Dramaturges—who are people in charge of cultivating the ambiance of theater plays —are familiar with the concept of the proscenium arch.

The proscenium arch turns the stage into a canvas, separating it from the audience, who sits in darkness. It holds and frames the scene in front of you.

The idea is that anything outside the box of the stage does not exist, except perhaps to represent the dark unconscious of the viewer. Meanwhile, his consciousness is what takes place on the stage in front of him.

The proscenium is therefore a critical structural element in the world being presented to the consciousness of the viewer.

Without it, the world would be a fluid plasma. Pieces and parts would chaotically pass through a stream but never take any concrete form or natural linear progression.

The arch is the fundamental basis for any world building.

If you have followed me for any amount of time, you know that I've described the first half of the 2020s as the destruction of this arch or this Big Tent society.

My catchphrase has been “breakdown to breakthrough.” March represents the long awaited breakthrough into the back half of the 2020s. You can tell in headlines and in the general vibe on social media that we've moved past the dynastic Clash of the Titans, which the early 2020s presented to us.

as part of us moving past the 2020 in the 2000 which were perhaps the last remaining true decades in which we could isolate an associate a span of 10 years with a certain feel such as the space age in the 60s or the jazz age in the 1920s.

The early 2020s told us that we would no longer isolate a span of 10 years with a certain feel such as the Space Age in the 60s or the Jazz Age in the 1920s. This isn't going to happen anymore and therefore it brought to a boiling point the types of big macro gestures that we had come to associate with modern western society. such as Red versus Blue, Republican versus Democrat, Seinfeld versus Friends, Marvel versus DC and so on and so forth.

In no uncertain terms, the 2020s has told us that it will be a multi-faceted, multi-polar decade of ever-shifting realities.

But as exciting as it is to now get down into what the 2020s actually promise us—adventure! risk! dynamism!—it's also very messy because we are now moving into that plasma stream where up down left and right do not exist.

There's a desire to reform these compass points, especially on an individual level, but that will take time and again it will mostly occur in micro instances. There will be multiple models available when it comes to world building.

There won't be a clock in the middle of the globe that we all look up to for a sense of synchronized simultaneously distributed meaning.

This is what the world wide web had initially promised us. We moved beyond that to the Global Village of social media, which was the 2.0 version of the world wide web. Now we're moving into a 3.0 version where things are much more decentralized and therefore chaotic and fluid and plasmic.

So let’s dive in and explore this path.

Melting Up Into New Realities

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You’ll notice as we go into March that people are performing for a play that no longer exists or waving a flag for a world that can no longer be built.

This will have the effect of revealing illusions across our society. Already we know that the current American administration wants to cut out waste in government—and that's just a very basic headline expression of the energy I'm referring to here.

You’ll have to look for micro examples in your local neighborhood or city. Lately I’ve seen an uptick of people wearing covid masks again. I was somewhat alarmed by this at first, until I realized that no one around these people, even though who would be politically sympathetic to them, were really paying mind to these individuals.

No one was giving any credence to their performance. No one thought it indicated that a new trend was just around the corner. There wasn’t even a camaraderie between the fellow mask wearers.

It was a gesture that lacked the ability to build a world.

There was almost a sacrificial aspect or a martyrdom aspect to this gesture, simply because it was NOT generative. Instead of being a three-dimensional energy capable of triggering a feeling in others, it was like a two-dimensional paper cut-out that had no depth or creative power.

It’s a far cry from spring 2020, when the sight of a mask would’ve conjured up a feeling of “being in it all together.” Many gestures or modes of expression will fall flat now.

A strange melancholic malaise may descend into daily interactions as a result. You may sense from people that they are disappointed in something.

Even those of you who are awake may be dealing with a sense of disillusionment over certain forecasted dreams that feel denied right now. Or if they do take shape, it’s not the shape you had wanted or desired when you dreamt these projected futures.

That does not mean that those hopes are completely off the table. It just means again that the form or the shape that you had projected into the future is wavering at this time, suspended in a nebulous plasma.

But SAFELY suspended, let’s emphasize.

There can be great poetry in conscious surrender. The goodbye that you engage in doesn't have to be of the regretful sense that many will experience, as with the mask wearers, for example.

What we want to focus on is the removal of any dollhouse fantasies that have us playacting, so we can initiate something that puts our skin in the game.

This is a truly exciting prospect because it does suggest that our fantasies can become reality as long as we're keeping our mission in mind.

The mission is to not hold so tightly to something that lacks structure, even though we may be under an illusion, seeing pieces of the world as stable theatre plays when in fact they are splashing into a million droplets.

In that vein, on the political stage you will see actions like tariffs and all sorts of currency wars, as nations attempt to understand new types of world building.

Political desires moving forward may have to be more visceral, brash and less based on past successes. It’s not like after World War II, where a surplus of goodwill and cultural capital can just be instantly deployed by an American powerhouse.

Instead, there’s a lot of cleanup, conservation and waste removal going on.

Now, that said, you don't have to ignore your past successes. It's not like you're starting from scratch or building without any prior experience to fall back on. But in some ways your experiences aren’t fully sufficient, because the act of creation now is not linear and steady in the sense that we have been used to until this point.

So once more, this kind of fluid plasmic interlude into the action half of the 2020s is more of a melting up into new aspirational and even delusional heights—rather than this boilerplate apocalyptic blockbuster that many like to chatter on about.

Many try to project their theories of where society is going based on paper cut-out models that look neat when arranged on the clean surface of a table. They're not able to think kinetically or fluidly in a nonlinear sense. To them, society comes crashing down and then it's just slowly rebuilt in total, across the board.

What March presents to us is an understanding of zigzag creation or the spiral of creativity that's infinite and unbounded. It's the kind of thing that can inspire irrational faith in you, but at the same time deep frustration when it comes to not seeing things take the shape that you had anticipated when it comes to the model in your mind.

That's all to say that results are available right now and yet much can be hidden from your view.

What's even more curious is that it may be hard for people to discern what's an actual world being built now and what is merely a wave crashing—already over by the time people “see” a trend.

Let’s keep going.

Surfing the Uncanny Valley

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The uncanny valley works like this:

Let's say you have a robot that resembles a Space Age cartoon, like Rosey from “The Jetsons.” She’s supposed to be a play on the midcentury maid that a working man like George Jetson would've had, if he lived on earth.

Rosey is treated like any other sentient being. That's what the uncanny valley seeks to measure: empathy that the robot receives from its human counterpart (you can measure other things, too, like stuffed animals).

She's a boxy creation, and this is comically underscore by the fact that she wears a very feminine and flowing traditional maid’s outfit. Under the uncanny valley theory, the more robotic a humanoid appears, the more empathetic a human is towards them.

But if they start to appear a little TOO human, then the reaction is one almost of disgust or disillusionment. It's often triggered by movement, where a humanoid robot can't quite access the fluidity of human life form. The theory also applies to AI generated images of humans, where the hands have six or seven fingers.

At any rate, the feeling of losing empathy and replacing it with something resembling disillusionment is really what needs to be highlighted here.

You may find that your models and aspirations—which you hoped to fill in like a coloring book—suddenly lose all borders.

This becomes a source of disillusionment for you, perhaps. A feeling that you've been disconnected from a certain source of hope.

But if you look closely, you may realize that your hopes and dreams were really like a rigid humanoid—and maybe others encouraged you to deceptively look over this fact in favor of a more rosy illusion or delusion.

By surfing the uncanny valley, you can save yourself from a very limited method of world building. You can connect to a source that is deeper and wider. You realize that fluidity in your asset now. You can rise up to new realities, out of the valley.

Likewise, you're going to see many people freak out as certain belief systems experience a melting up away from artificial types of hope into more sustainable models of optimism. For example, they may realize the food system is not really in service to them at all. There is no large benevolent institution acting like a doting maid, such as Rosey. But that means they get to personalize their diet, for example.

Now, that’s not stable for many people, determining their own diet. It’s very fluid. But also freeing.

So you're very likely going to see people in large numbers turning away from the modern healthcare system or the modern food system even though those reasons may be micro and personalized. It’s not so likely that one big issue will galvanize the globe, like suddenly realizing the hazard of one particular food additive. Robert Kennedy talks about glyphosate a lot, and that makes for a good general talking point, but I doubt it’s the singular trigger for the explosion of awareness around the corner.

This will lead us to become more empathetic towards ourselves and towards the models we use in order to find hope and inspiration.

You may discover a new sense of empowering surrender. “I can actually formulate this for myself.”

Removing artificiality from our world building efforts will not be easy.

And perhaps we are the ones that are most resistant, because we have become accustomed to the convenience that these humanoid thought forms give to us.

But in order to be more fully human, and therefore creative and generative, we may have to give up some things that we didn't think that we were going to give up.

That will be extremely impactful. Our sensitivity may spike. We may no longer be able to stand certain belief patterns.

As always in the 2020s, we may see certain portions of society (or certain markets) succumb to deep confusion over letting go of certain models and aspirations.

Some sectors may be wiped out completely, dragged out to sea.

But this is where the back half of the 2020s begin—right here from the new shores that you wash up on.