I was deer hunting many decades ago and stopped at the top of a long trail in the deep woods of Virginia to catch my breath, having climbed a couple hundred feet of altitude in a few minutes. I leaned against a big sturdy looking old tree a few stories tall.
No sooner had I touched it than it crumbled under my hand to reveal a nearly hollow core. Termites had eaten everything but the outer skin, just enough of a shell to keep it standing up. They must have been working at it for decades before I walked up to it and rested against it.
The entire tree gave out a groan, collapsed on one side and poured out a ton of dust and rotten pulp as it toppled over and crashed in the woods with an enormous bang. There had been nothing at all to it. A light touch had ended it all in a few seconds.
To anybody walking through those woods, that tree would have looked as solid as cast iron and monolithic. Yet in a single moment it ceased to exist after what might have been centuries of growth. It had died long, long ago. Long ago. Only the shell remained and when that gave out it was reduced to debris in the woods that even the insects were no longer interested in eating.
I figure the 'Kwa was at the end of it's life cycle in 1963 when I was born. They shot Kennedy a couple months after I came into the world. To people who didn't know any better, many people thought it was as robust as ever. Somehow when I was a young boy, I truly believe my Asperger's gave me the perception to know something was wrong from the time I learned to walk. I always had a feeling. I always knew something wasn't quite right. I knew that the appearance of things and the consensus on things was not synchronized with the reality of things. I knew my world was hollow. I knew it was being eaten out by termites. I knew I was living inside a doomed shell. The Asperger's always gave me an edge, an ability to discriminate very fine shades of meaning and to perceive things with great subtlety, to look more closely than other people and to see that hidden corruption inside. I could never quite convey it to others or really explain it. I always knew it was coming. I always knew it. I could feel it ... like the strange sound an empty gourd makes when you tap on it. I knew the tree had died long, long ago. This isn't the sort of thing you can explain to an ordinary person. They wouldn't understand. They never grasp anything beyond appearances. It's in their design specifications to only apprehend things by the way they appear topically on their fragile surface. It's not given to them to look closer ... to see the truth of things in the deeper sense. They can't do it. That's why television is so useful to keep them distracted.