If I am remembered at all in the years to come, and many years are at stake, chances are I will come across as a thwarter. And a minor one at that, I fear. A thwarter of the collapse of the great western civilization, if this putrid cadaver sprawling around us deserves such a lofty name, the lower-case letters notwithstanding. Yes, I will be remembered as one of those who had toiled in vain to uphold this miserable civilization. This travesty. This abomination. Thus a thwarter, and rightly so. For this monstrosity ought to collapse as soon as possible. As smoothly as feasible. As thoroughly as practicable. Thwarters like me only slow down the harrowing spectacle. They only lengthen the pointless pains. The ghastly jerks. The bloodcurdling gasps. Oh, if only I knew how to become an enabler instead! And a major one at that. An enabler of the imminent collapse of the great western civilization to be remembered for all times!

Addendum (November 21, 2016)

I cannot but sprout a bashful smile whenever I start reading this piece. Helping this civilization along in its headlong rush into oblivion could be much fun, no doubt. But I always end up with an anxious frown by the time I reach the last sentence. How come I am a born thwarter, as it were? And how come I could never become an enabler, let alone a phony one? The best answer I can muster is that it is a matter of character. That is, it is beyond my ken. My ode to thwarting is of interest in this connection (“A Recipe for Foolproof Subversion,” May 14, 2013). I take it most seriously, if not also gravely, but I remain fully aware that it is of little if any interest to anyone supposedly engaged in subversion in any of its many guises (“On Foolproof Subversion,” June 19, 2016). Thus, it is of little if any consequence. Miserable or not, this civilization keeps marching on. All things considered, this piece is but an exercise in wishful thinking. If only I could change my character at will…