Scheherazade, who saved herself by serialization, needs to stage a come-back and tell us a string of stories. Not stories kissed with apocolypstic, but of survival, and thrival, but not tribal, if you know what I mean. We need the positive imagined outcomes of humanity. We need the narrative of peace and prosperity, compassion, and the continued existence of the variety of life on earth. I know, it doesn’t sell on Netflix. But we need to speak about possibilities and good outcomes, we need to make it popular to be unabashedly hopeful and forge a new reality, closer to the heart, as Rush have it.
