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It gratifies us as a species to imagine we are sitting atop some sort of summit. We use words like evolution to describe ourselves and our path as biological organisms. We use words like progress to describe our civilization and all the things we’ve made together as a group. If we are always improving upon our own lesser forms and if we are always achieving to an unprecedented degree, then predicting the future is a matter of simple extrapolation. “C” is always (and never more than) a rational, predictable expression of “AB”. And yet, our expeditions of Tomorrow never fail to terrify us. Whatever beauty or transcendance we may imagine there, the Future is always host to something we know we’ll regret. We may go faster, burn brighter, fly higher… but, alas, we can never escape ourselves.