David Madore's WebLog: Gratuitous Literary Fragment #74 (the Revolution)

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us…

We met every Wednesday afternoon—for three years—in a café around Union Square (I think it's gone now) and we discussed strange plans. I don't think we ever quite made up our minds as to whether we were the Club of Rome or a group of conspirators: I believe we thought ourselves something of both, which, in retrospect, stands as a remarkably accurate assessment of what we ended up being. The idea of the Phase dawned upon us gradually, it was no sudden stroke of genius; so future historians can debate forever which of us had the thought first. Like so many of our age before us, we just argued about how we would make the world a far better place.

But of course, unlike them, we succeeded.