Alternative Reality: What‑If — Lit‑Exit or EU‑Brain‑On?
Two seconds. That’s all it took for my mind to switch tabs without planning.
🧠 The intrusive tab that won’t stay closed
I was deep in something unrelated when a spare thought snapped back to an earlier reality check—one of those comparisons that burns itself into your cortex. In my own notes, the math landed like a punch: a jarring “thirty times faster.” You can debate the number (please do); that’s not the point. The point is the feeling: somewhere on this continent, lives are being traded for territory, pride, and narratives that look clean on paper but bleed in the real world.
We’ve drifted into a logic where a metal casing packed with powder—or a house made from hardened sand and wood—can be valued above a human being, his children, and the unrepeatable universe of a single life erased in a flash. This, right after we stumbled through a “mystical” pandemic that bent time; now everything moves like it’s on fast‑forward. Another conflict ignites, someone else joins in for reasons we half‑understand, and the world—already exhausted—looks away.
🔥 The brutal arithmetic we barely notice
We’ve normalized the ticker. Numbers scroll; names don’t. The feed refreshes; grief does not. We call it geopolitics, security, deterrence—anything to keep our language sterile. Exact figures aside, the moral equation keeps spitting out the same answer: if we agree that a single life holds infinite value, then any system that spends lives casually is bankrupt—no matter how elegant its spreadsheets.
🧭 Two switches I keep seeing
In my head, the story reduces to two positions: Lit‑Exit or EU‑Brain‑On. Interpret them how your conscience suggests; they’re metaphors, not policies. One is the reflex to numb out, to scroll past, to disengage until there’s nothing left but cynicism. The other is the hard choice to stay present: to think carefully, feel fully, and refuse to dehumanize—especially when it would be easier.
I don’t see a “middle ending” here. There’s only the daily habit of attention or the daily habit of avoidance. Silence can be sacred when it’s honest; dangerous when it’s convenient.
🌱 What staying human might look like (small, practical)
- Hold one story. Give a full minute to a single name, a single face. Let it be real.
- Guard your language. Critique systems if you must, but never reduce people to labels.
- Do one repair today. An apology, a check‑in, a meal, a donation—tiny stitches still mend fabric.
- Re‑regulate your body. Breathe 4‑4‑6 for five rounds. Touch the earth. Hold a stone. Remind your nervous system it’s allowed to soften.
- Create before you consume. Write a paragraph, light a candle, make something for someone you love.
🌀 Alternative Reality: What‑If
Let’s file this in the ongoing Alternative Reality: What‑If series and leave it there for now:
- What if the metric wasn’t territory or prestige, but the number of children who slept safely tonight?
- What if every policy had to pass the “could I defend this to a grieving parent?” test?
- What if attention—not outrage—were our civic duty?
- What if we measured leadership by how few people are harmed, not how forcefully words are delivered?
“And honestly? I have nothing to say to that.”
Sometimes that’s the most truthful line. When words return, may they be used for repair.