What if the telltale signs are there, but we cannot, or are unwilling to, recognize them? Perhaps the forward progress has already stopped, and we are in the throes of having reversed course without knowing, and that the innate genetic material by which Darwinian advancement promised a glowing epicenter of continual advancement, has in fact turned around, and we are witnessing the march towards a regressive, amoebic devolution?
Maybe we have already reached that penultimate pinnacle of a paradigmatic precipice, and the discovery of our technological prowess has already peaked, to where humanity’s U-turn is characterized by the behaviors we exhibit towards each other, to institutions we once beheld, and of reflections in misty ponds where our own images can no longer be discerned with clarity of teleological purpose, but where childhood dreams were once of fluttering butterflies, colorful not just in flights of fancy but in the twilight moon of castaway days, when goblins, elvin creatures and hobbits of yore delighted the human soul with imaginations beyond mere cravings of fantasies, but of that time when the breath of peaceful solitude cast shadows beyond the cavernous dangers where ogres lie?
Certainly, one can make a forceful argument that, If X constitutes the highest achievement of Man, then Y must be an indicator that the deconstructionism of civilization has already begun the process of devolving further into the abyss of decadence of soul. Is this all there is in life?
Once, in days of Roman legions and civilizations expanding with the quickened pace of cultural upheavals, the dawn of man’s hope and the pinnacle of invention, the arts and the Renaissance of Timeless beauty brushed across the canvas of humankind, and revealed the inner sanctity of an empty religiosity. There are no more principles worth dying for; and that is precisely why people blow themselves up. There are no causes valued; and that is why despair pervades throughout. Are those two candidates the best we can offer?
Do we treat our spouses as we would our best friend, before we discard the years of shared belongings like so many dishrags we fling down the garbage chute?
For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, in addition to the harassment, difficulties and intimidations felt at work, it is often an agonizing decision to make — to take that initial step in order to begin the process of preparing, formulating and filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset.
For, the tripartite compartmentalization of one’s life must coalesce in order to advance: Recognition that the “status quo” cannot continue; a medical condition which prevents the Federal or Postal employee from performing one or more of the essential elements of the Federal or Postal positional duties; the ability and capacity to amass and prove, by a preponderance of the evidence, that all of the eligibility criteria for OPM Disability Retirement benefits are met.
And of the amoebic devolution?
That march in the midst of time cannot be stopped, any more than the harassment, intimidation and workplace hostility can be set aside; and as the latter is probably an indication of the former, it is best to accept the reverberating laughter of the gods who look coyishly down upon the caverns of that hell we create, and wink at them from afar with the knowledge that we may well join them in the greatest farce we have staged — that of Man’s capacity to live in his own excrement while delusionally opining on how cultivated he believes himself to be.
Robert R. McGill, Esquire