I am always grateful to live in this age of miracles and wonders. I heard The Beatles, I watched us walk on the moon and saw the Fall of the Wall that divided Europe into dark and light.
Some days I concede I'm less grateful than other days. There's just so many photos of phelines (didja see what I did there?) I can scroll past on Caturday before I feel like coughing up a hairball or two myself. And chain mails are just as goofy on an LCD as they were when I was kid growing up in the stone age reading a mailed letter while riding my dinosaur.
There will come a day of reckoning, I fear, when a Great Something or Other someplace will call us all into account for what we've done with the ingenious inventions of our age and I'm working on forging my Mom's signature on a sick note so I can be excused from the planet when that day arrives.
And while all that continues, or perhaps despite all of that continuing, then we have technology applied in such a way so as to expand our collective knowledge, like this from NASA and I sit in breathless awe of our singularly sublime bursts of collective genius. A striking of a solitary match in a dark room admiring how the light travels to the most distant corners and returns, redoubled and renewed.