The paradox of our time in history is that we have
taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider freeways,
but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less;
we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and
smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We
have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but
less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more
medicine, but less wellness.
We drink too much, smoke too much, and spend too
recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too
angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too
little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom. We
have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our
values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate
too often.
We've learned how to make a living, but not a life.
We've added ears to life not life to years. We've been
all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble
crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We
conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done
larger things, but not better things.
We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've
conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write
more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish
less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build
more computers to hold more information, to produce
more copies than ever, but we communicate less and
less.
These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion,
big men and small character, steep profits and shallow
relationships. These are the days of two incomes but
more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These
are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway
morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and
pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to
kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom
window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when
technology can bring this letter to you, and a time
when it controls your life.
