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A world of fragile things.

Moribund conglomerations have disintegrated into disparate efforts.

Trends of decline towards collapse, of failure towards disappearance.

Things fall apart.

Efforts like that of the A.C.G. want to go against the currents of dissolution and disintegration, swimming upstream to lay all their eggs in one basket.

A vain summation towards a critical mass blind to considerations of the rate of decay of their atomized constituents, in this day and age they still insist on living halved lives.

The final balance finds these efforts to be squarely in the red.

The rest jumped ship before the whitewater, ignoring such siren songs as the A.C.G's call to join.

Long term liabilities are finally due.

They convene at the summit of their fears, headed for a cliff.

In the free fall they'll realize they'll be better off when they hit the bottom.

Since eventually they'll come afloat, liquidated by the turbulent crash, after thrashing in the black.