By the time we had begun to take apart the metaphors that we use to keep ourselves up we thought we could fly. Perhaps this, in itself, was a testament to the metaphors – definitions of who we are were always strong enough to adapt to the changing world. But were we?
Robbed of our metaphors we spiraled into a freefall.
We are still falling.
According to newton, acceleration due to gravity is a constant 9.8 metres per second squared.
Even at our most still we are seated on a rock that is travelling through space at 460 metres per second, tethered in place by the sun.
We can barely afford to move faster.
The faster we fall the closer the ground gets.
But if no one hears the splat – did it happen?