Bottom Line Morality

I like to think I’m operating under fewer delusions than most folks do. I’m going to write an imaginary letter to the psychopaths who rule the world:
I’ve already made peace with my mortality. I estimate there is a high probability I won’t die under peaceful and pleasant circumstances. It was some time ago I surrendered the notion I might give my life for some noble cause. By no means am I suicidal, but I’ll be content simply leaving this plane of existence as soon as powers far above me are ready for me to get out of the way. I consider this life in many ways a prison sentence.
Between now and my eventual release, I do have something which drives me. Let’s not pretend I can put it into words; just know it’s there. I call it my sanity. It’s probably the only thing in this life which has value to me, and that’s only because I believe it’s anchored somewhere outside this life. My grip on it may be limited, but the thing itself is hardly fragile.
It tells me there is nothing I can do to stop your plans, nor hinder them, nor even offer any symbolic resistance anyone would remember. I can’t save myself, much less anyone else. All I can do is try to hold onto that sanity, even in the final moments, whatever shape those moments might take. There are some things I won’t voluntarily do, and quite a few things I’ll always try to do, simply because it’s what my sanity demands, not because I expect those imperatives to make any real difference in the final outcome of things.
What’s left is whole lot of things I might be willing to do which you’ll find useful. It’s rather like calling a truce. No part of my sanity requires truculence over things I can’t control. The current trend toward unpleasant circumstances for most of the world is just background noise. Whether I enjoy it is not the question; it’s there and it won’t go away. About the only thing I hope I can do is demonstrate my brand of sanity so folks notice it. There’s always a chance they’ll want something similar for themselves, and I am utterly certain nothing else is worth wanting. If you tolerate me doing that, I’ll tolerate your use of me in return.
I realize that will limit my usefulness, so unless you can find a place for me in your machinery, where my peculiarities don’t gum up the works, I suppose it’s best I just stay out of the way.