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.
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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.
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The faster we fall the closer the ground gets.
But if no one hears the splat – did it happen?