It all comes down to root cause and initial conditions as we emerged into our sentient state.
I don't know that I care to explain further. I think someone cognizant, with an open mind, that has read through this site regarding how humanity attains its sentient state in full, since none of the crap that we have tried for millennia have moved the needle at all, should be able to put the pieces together without further help.
This belongs here as the conclusion to all of the questions I asked.
Windows
The eyes through the heart
On the way to the soul
The life to restart
From mere pieces to whole
Speaks of the relative meaning of things
In utter frustration, I lost all the world
Impatient to sense all the loving unfurled
The dimwitted fear of the loving-less beast
All due to the fear that they can't make the feast
So, on I continue, still frustrations roam
To skip to the time when the heart knows its home
The loving begins with the tug on heartstrings
Awaiting the day, if it's only to feel
Explosion of loving, at last, become real
In the next lifetime the love will anneal;
Substantial as heart, to the loving I kneel
Impatiently waiting for all to wake up
To fill all of life from a lovingly cup
The human complete with the craft and the style
Of the love that transcends all the heart all the while
In glancing denials as we peer through the fog
Putting on airs of Pavlovian Dog
What's wrong with this picture that's glued to the screen
The love interrupted, the bout intervened
The loving corrupted with men in denial
The passion disrupted, the loving on trial
No pill is required, only sentience graced
With loving transformed and the hating erased
The frustration holds and impatience resounds
To think it requiring another full round
Another full lifetime for love to be found
The proof of the case is, in fact, all around
The fear of the failure has held us all bound
Sweep aside the conflicts and excuses
They're on the train that rides with the abuses
A juggernaut that leads to more the same
The crafted clown that's dripping in the rain
Late 2024: I was right.
There are three characteristics to the poems I write. They always rhyme and attempt rhythm, and often contain a changepoint.
"The Travelers" typifies it best.
It can be hard to detect but, the changepoint in "The Travelers" is very obvious. "But, what was that they saw ahead" Funny, of all of the poems I have written, this is the only one that I reread regularly and find nothing to change.
Anyways, I'm looking for that changepoint in life, now. It should be a sharp demarcation. It would be indelibly imprinted on me, if it happens while I am still alive.
In every way, I looked at life to detect what was wrong. But, unlike the opposite gender that cannot even hope for change, since it is not in their hands. Somewhere deep within, I knew that the fault was with my own gender.
I spent about twenty years studying all of the usual excuses and explanations of the madness of humanity and never said a word because, after lengthy review, none of it added up. I wrote at least a book's worth on the usual suspects but there was no point in discussing it because it didn't change a thing. It was all just words used as a coverup. Maybe I had to clear the deck before I could see what was really going on.
It is such a complicated situation that it still takes my breath away. A race becomes sentient and must, emotionally and intellectually, confront a problem that has wasted and confounded more than 100 generations.
Simultaneously, we are asked to confront a flaw in one gender, while living with the flaw. It completely dumbfounded everyone for so long. The last time anyone pulled it out of the Box to take a look was about three millennia ago. The only way it will ever be possible to change is by confronting it intellectually. Even that is scary because it does not prove the pudding.
No, the first step was to look back on a life of wastage in order to see the wreckage that the lack causes. It could only be done by one that would accept no lesser measure of Humanity than success in everything. How I maintained my confidence and self-respect is beyond me. I guess it came down to accepting that there is something wrong, even though it mystified me as it has one hundred generations. It never dumbfounded me.
The next step is the changepoint in the poem. In this case, the changepoint is when a heart that means it takes the next step while they are still young enough to count. A young man needs to be able to look at what I have laid out (especially in Explanations) intellectually and have the wherewithal to succeed. Every man has everything he needs to succeed, except the wherewithal. Nature doesn't create blind alleys. But, it will surely let a stupoured race come to its end, if it can't figure it out.
It will spread from that one young man. That is the changepoint.
The balance I maintain is that I would go bonkers (in a good way) if the changepoint happens in this lifetime but am more than willing to go into death with the wholehearted expectation that I can love a woman wholly in the next life. Whatever she desires (the same, interestingly enough, is also true in this lifetime. it would prove nothing, though. what i can provide is now only tarnished by age, which is good enough in the microcosm but does nothing to change the macrocosm).
It is so exciting, now, to reread the rhoems and see just how accurate they are. I can't call them predictions, really. It really is just a matter of insightfulness, clarity, seeing what is really going on. Not the future, but the past and that which sets us free.