Everyone thought it was a meteor, a one-time event that changed the world instantly.
But it was a simple, slow-moving contagion that worked its way through all of them until they finally succumbed.
It seems that the dinosaurs (the species known as Adus Interruptus) didn’t think that you could be trusted to know what you want.
That you needed to be told what to do.
What to say.
Who to be.
The dinosaurs thought your friends didn’t matter and that your opinions didn’t count.
They didn’t respect your time or what you cared about most.
They only wanted one thing.
To stop you dead in your tracks.
And prevent you from thinking, or listening or sharing a moment.
And because the dinosaurs didn’t trust you, Trust came back and bit them in the ass.
As people started trusting themselves and their friends, Adus Interruptus began dying off in huge numbers.
They left Times Square, they moved out of airports, malls and grocery stores.
They disappeared from television, radio, the web.
The trust virus, a simple, elegant collection of ideas that replicated itself in the minds of ordinary people, took down the biggest, baddest players on the planet.
And ain’t it a better world for it.