In every generation, a special few will be born to the right family with the right upbringing – be it love or abuse, something has led them to the realisation that there is more to life than this. There is more the their lives than this. From those obscure places will come our heroes. Our superheroes. Our leaders.
OOC knows no class boundaries, no age limits, no sexism nor racism. Sweeping across the world like a blanket, it turns day into night. Earth into hell. Hope, into despair.
By the end of the decade, 99% of the population will be infected or partially infected with OOC. We know we are infected by our collection and hoarding of possessions. We eat and drink and spend to excess. We live outside of our means. We obsess all day over this imaginary thing called money.
And we continue to breed. 3rd and 4th generation OOC’s are being born every day. Born into families where the talk is excess, the action is laziness and the excuses are in the form of blame.
These children have little hope. Parents and grandparents too far gone to know they are infected themselves, let alone being able to help their children.
You may feel a slight pull on your heartstrings, or an overwhelming tug on your soul, but if you feel anything from reading these few pages, you may be one of the few. The only hope we have left.
You can help the world. No matter how small you feel right now, or how deeply infected you might be, you can help. Imagine yourself as a harp. If you can feel us plucking your strings, if you can feel the tune we’re playing deep inside you; you’re probably the hero we’ve been waiting for.
The hero the world has been waiting for…
Your time, my friend… has come.