Interstate

Imagine that after many millennia of warfare and environmental crises, humanity finally learned from its mistakes and evolved into a relatively happy family, a cosmic community at home in the universe.

The following fractured parable takes place many years before that happy day.

Diogenes lived in a tub. 

The tub was round and made out of wood.

It was his mobile home. He would stay in one place for a while, and sleep under the tub, Or he would relax inside, naked in the twilight our endarkened world calls daytime, and enjoy the memory of sunshine. The nude bather would  receive his philosophy students and lecture to them until outraged parents and police officers chased him away for violating social norms.

Then he would turn the tub on its side and roll along the ancient broken highway, I-95, along the Eastern Seaboard, where cities used to be —

Wilmington New York City Philadelphia District of Columbia Baltimore Richmond Jacksonville Miami — all of these now names for holes burned into the ground, giant ashtrays that held the dust of a cremated democracy. He sifted the dust with his fingers in search of relics that would offer clues to what had happened and why.

He scavenged along the roadside, interviewing the refugees who walked in sad caravans. He carried a flashlight that burned out long ago but he’d forgotten what he was looking for anyway and now the flashlight was a club for self defense.

To the young he was a folk hero but ordinary good people regarded him as a cynic who was only infamous for being infamous.

In spite of his obvious poverty and insanity some influential people believed he possessed valuable information about how civilization used to work and these powerful people were interested in getting the old world started again, making it great again.

You have all heard the story about the time the Big Man offered him a priceless gift for this knowledge.

Diogenes was camping outside of the crater named West Palm Beach when a vintage golf cart pulled up. The Big Man’s driver parked near the tub and a security detail guided him so he could present his offering to the naked philosopher.

What he offered was a bucket of meat. 

Many people say this is the best meat they ever tasted! the Big Man boasted. They can’t believe it!

No, said Diogenes.

In the old days this meat would have been worth many billions of bitcoins, the Big Man claimed.

No, said Diogenes.

What can I give you? the Big Man persisted. What favor can I grant you?

You can step away from me, Diogenes answered. You are eclipsing my sunshine. 

Sunshine? the confused visitor asked, tilting his head back and directing his empty eye sockets upward to where the sky used to be.