Taiwan clings to the Chinese coast like a slingshot cocked and loaded, waiting to be flung out into the open Pacific by any earthquake with balls and bats and a love of the game. India’s sliding into second base, Camp Himalaya, with cleats high and dust flying. Turkey is a fragile coccyx attaching Asia to Africa and allowing Europe to get erect and stay there. Iran is a rusty scimitar slicing into the underbelly of Asia. Africa is breaking up and going separate ways. We ride on the crust of a custard, on the crest of a wave, a ball of fire cooled down to magma. It’s almost like the bloody thing is still alive in there. In another billion years, things might be more settled, continents satisfied with their figures and waistlines and their place in society. There will probably still be life. I wonder if there will still be humans. I wonder what they’ll be like. I wonder if anyone will still remember me, us, or any of this that seems such a normal, commonplace, everyday reality. I wonder how many times we’ll have to start over before we get it right. The earth will survive our most vicious transgressions, but we may not. The hard thing to realize is that we may still be in a very early phase of our lives as part of the universe. The recent discovery that galaxies are receding at an ever-increasing rate seems to indicate that we might still be in the early stages of the Big Bang. Our earth is barely cool enough to inhabit. We don’t yet know our limits. We think maybe we’re smarter than we really are. We still maintain our youthful suicidal tendencies. This is one of the disadvantages of neoteny, cultural or biological. Some retained traits may not be desirable. We’re killing ourselves.