Wretchard’s The Belmont Club looks at the The shadow of our hand

But the greatest event of all of the past five years has been the slow hardening of the human heart, as each of us sets his face against the unknown, our household goods and gods sheltering pitifully behind; an event undetectable save for the slow, crepitating sound of walls setting solid across the expanse of our global and tribal world.

Intellectual disgrace
Stares from every human face
And the seas of pity lie
Locked and frozen in each eye.
And with the pity, the hate. That was ever man’s tragedy: an angel, but a killer angel.

“Our tools have converged but our souls have diverged.”

Do we know what is important anymore?

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