As a species, humans have been enormously successful. Indeed, too much so. Our intelligence has changed the rules of the ecological game; now we win by altering, and ultimately destroying, the playing field. In this respect, humans most resemble an invasive species of insect. In our specialization, our interdependence, our relative feebleness without the support structure of our hives, we are like un-carapaced ants. And yet every one of us insists upon our radical individuality, our uniqueness, our selfhood. Calamity could scrape off a thousand of us, or a million, without troubling the course of the human project. Still, the same mind that built our nests lets us imagine that we are singly strong and self-sufficient, like the predator species stalking their territory alone. The ant dreams of being a tiger.
I descend into
the sea of I