My tribe used to tell a lot of stories!
One of my favorites was called The Burning Time. The legend goes that within a decade, our world was going to end. The Earth Goddess, angered by our factories and capitalism and ignorance of the Great Prophet Malthus, would cause the world's temperature to rise until the planet could tak it no more. Crops would burn, polar bears would go extinct, the hungry seas would rise to consume our vane cities, and there was nothing we could do to stop it - NOTHING - save if everyone stopped being greedy and resolved to obeyed the King. We were given mere years to prepare before the point of no return was passed, which caused us to tear at our scalps and gnash our teeth in fear.
One of a thousand variations on the tale which our storytellers entertained us with.
But, of course, the world is still here. Doom's Day came and went and our cities were not destroyed. So, our wise men recalculate the Apocalypse, and once again we gnashed our teeth and tore our scalps - but that day came and went, too. And the next, and the next. In fact, my tribe still tells this story even today, except now the timeframe is rarely given, and it is no longer called the story of The Burning Time. Now it's the story of The Great Change, which is nice, because regardless of what happens when the judgement of Gaia finally comes - whether it gets colder or hotter, wetter or drier, too many animals die or too few - then our wise men can nod and say they foresaw it long ago.
One of my favorites was called The Burning Time. The legend goes that within a decade, our world was going to end. The Earth Goddess, angered by our factories and capitalism and ignorance of the Great Prophet Malthus, would cause the world's temperature to rise until the planet could tak it no more. Crops would burn, polar bears would go extinct, the hungry seas would rise to consume our vane cities, and there was nothing we could do to stop it - NOTHING - save if everyone stopped being greedy and resolved to obeyed the King. We were given mere years to prepare before the point of no return was passed, which caused us to tear at our scalps and gnash our teeth in fear.
One of a thousand variations on the tale which our storytellers entertained us with.
But, of course, the world is still here. Doom's Day came and went and our cities were not destroyed. So, our wise men recalculate the Apocalypse, and once again we gnashed our teeth and tore our scalps - but that day came and went, too. And the next, and the next. In fact, my tribe still tells this story even today, except now the timeframe is rarely given, and it is no longer called the story of The Burning Time. Now it's the story of The Great Change, which is nice, because regardless of what happens when the judgement of Gaia finally comes - whether it gets colder or hotter, wetter or drier, too many animals die or too few - then our wise men can nod and say they foresaw it long ago.
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