The words on the page lost the magnetic power they once held over him.
Those seeds planted in sentences from some far away or long gone authors once grew full and wide enough to carry him into the future where anything would be possible. Some sentences sprouted weeds of discontent and fear pulling the past forward. Polarity that attracted or repelled had lost its energy. The time had arrived for him that imagination’s lure passed out of sight no matter how cleverly those words had been united to create a thought.
Younger people see a decade of time through different lenses. A measure of ten years may as well be a place in another solar system. Then, the day comes when words lose power. The day on the calendar preceded by three thousand six hundred fifty days is blank and all the pages before just flash by as a memory of something that may have happened just yesterday. That’s why the young put off things and set five and ten year goals that would take a normal traveler a lifetime to achieve.
Words once again appear to the man. The reader whose page upon page of sentences became white noise found a new and loud noise that made no sense. One lone voice spoke the words but the sentence grew wide from the seed planted. Soon the contamination spread as the audience grew and applauded enabling the addiction to grow.
What were these words?
Should the idea be repeated and become a movement?
Vast kingdoms have been founded on lesser sentences. A slogan rallied people to follow leaders to great revolutionary acts. Countries were formed. Civilizations blossomed and spent its life cycle herding followers of words. Can words do that? Witness what Jesus inspired twelve guys to do. It was just words. But, now thirty seven million buildings are meeting places for billions to repeat the words on Sundays. A church on every corner is no exaggeration.
What was the linkage of words that may have a similar impact?
They must be powerful magnetic words.
“We will replace all fossil fuels within twelve years.”
That’s the quote that shook people old enough to realize ten or twelve years is just yesterday.
Suspend reality for a moment and imagine what would have to be accomplished each day of the new calendar. One hundred and twenty five thousand gas stations would be closed. What will we do without our big gulp and Twinkies? The nine hundred thirty one thousand people that work there will be retrained, or just depend on welfare handouts.
Dismiss any idea of reselling one of the two hundred seventy million cars currently on the road. They won’t run. Consider the carbon footprint of recycling our vehicles. The smelting factories will be busy melting down over a trillion pounds of useless vehicles. That’s over five hundred tons turned to molten liquid shooting untold billions of carbon into the air.
Each year homes across America have been routinely purchasing over a million brand new gas stoves over the course of twenty decades past. The industry of gas stoves launched in 1828 has become a villainous band of thieves stealing away atmosphere faster than grilling a thick tenderloin. Those cook tops and ovens preferred by gourmet foodies will be confiscated by a new government that repurposed ICE to vast collection agencies of useless appliances.
They will be busy. Once the gas stove is removed, they back up the truck to pull gas heaters from eighty-five percent of American homes that rely on gas heaters to keep the kids from freezing during the winter months of this global warming sword of Damocles.
A knock at the door jarred the man.
In the fog of waking the words that had pulled him into an Orwellian future just a mere twelve years ahead, he realized he was not dreaming caught up in the fiction of his favorite novelists. This was a wakeup call; the delivery person at the door.
She smiled, “Here’s your delicious hot meal for today.”
As she turned to walk away, the man heard the soft hum and saw the electric government truck idling waiting for her. The package shared fresh warmth from the government owned microwave that heated his soy concoction for the day.