Maladapted

We evolved for small tribes, which seemed good

Until overshoot changed our hood;

Since then we’ve resorted

To make-dos contorted,

And managed the best that we could.

Reefer Madness

We’re totally fucked, as you see,  

And there’s no way that we can break free;

I’m not someone who plugs     

That the answer is drugs, 

But they seem to be working for me.

Jester

Laugh when folks claim doom’s a hoax,

Seek distraction from favorite strokes,

Try to pretend

That this isn’t the end—

At some point, you run out of jokes.

On Increasing Awareness That WASF

I’m more and more certain of late

That we haven’t much longer to wait:

I believe more and more

We can’t change what’s in store,

And ever more strongly in fate.