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: Peering through the fog of the post-futuristic wasteland, I saw Bob, wearing a chemical suit and a jet pack. His titanium teeth gleamed like new.

"Leonard!", he said. "How did we get into this mess? Give me some facet of modern society whose negative features I can extrapolate into a source of blame for our current predicament!"

"We were too smart, Bob.", I said. "We were too smart to begin with and we kept making ourselves smarter. If we'd never figured out agriculture we wouldn't have these problems in the first place; we'd still be on the first set of problems. But now we're stuck in the loop."

"What do we do now?", asked Bob.

"Well," I said, "there's always post-futuristic death disco."


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