The system of the old world was mostly called capitalism and, in short, it trains disresponsibility. It allows people to pay others to do the things they don't want to do, and consequently they're allowed to escape the unsightly things that enable their lifestyles. A consequence of that is; what enables their lifestyles is allowed to grow behind the scenes into a monster that not even its creators can love. The ugliest creatures on this planet can be found where there is no light, like at the very bottom of the ocean and in ostentatious mansion complexes.
We think we're pretty great with our concrete box houses and our fossil fuel-burning contraptions. Our music boxes can hold thousands of mass-produced offerings from the likes of Lady Gaga and Katy Perry and, most importantly, it can do so without throwing up. We don't talk about Britney Spears any more because she's like sooo yesterday. Like, omigawd. We're so awesome, we spend half our waking lives doing things we probably wouldn't do otherwise, and whatever's left we spend consuming things generally made by people who'd rather be doing something else. The only place left where we can still reliably find some semblance of passion or life force is in carnal pleasures, that would be just another Wednesday if it weren't kept just out of reach. If you want access to that lusty face and those perfectly round, airbrushed tits, you're meant to go out and do whatever it takes to get a Ferrari or something similar, because it's well-known that pantywallets are magnetically attracted to them. If you have "tits", you better hope they're perfectly round or you'll have to make them appear that way, the same way that While E. Coyote paints a tunnel on a rock face to trick the Road Runner. You have to be able to flash that fake smile at a moment's notice, and the next second be able to fake sadness, disappointment or an orgasm. Do it now or you'll be alone forever. Nobody will like you.
Things might've gone on this way until the end, if life were what we've been told. What you're about to see is what is referred to in mainstream media language as a perfect storm. It is what happens when all the chickens come home to roost at the same time. I will no doubt be surprised many times by the magnificence and the irony of it all in the near future, but one example may go like this: The people we paid to slaughter animals all day long finally accept that we really are no better than just another predator in the animal kingdom, and as a result will have no qualms about stringing up a squealing banker and doing them kosher style. In the end it's all just cause and effect.
The system of the new world is called survival of the fittest. If you're too fat to run and one of these days you need to move quickly to stay alive, then I've got some bad news for you and good news for the rest of us. Good news, because food is going to be scarce, and there won't be enough to maintain your Jabba the Hutt-looking ass. These things don't come from some magical realm beyond this world, they are right under our noses every day. We call them things like body language and coincidence. We know that the language of science—on which we now rely for all our explanations—can touch but not grasp these things, but we also know that these things have some power we can't quite explain. We are about to get schooled on the things we thought we'd left behind, and we can get our lessons either the easy way or the hard way.