To Herr Doktor (first letter)

Dear Sir,
Please believe me.  It’s as if I need your expert opinion, an authoritative assurance of one thing or another, a definitive explanation for what is actually going on.  I’ve got some questions for you.
Have people always suspected they live in the most corrupt and misguided of times?  Are such concerns particularly significant right now?  Is The End finally just around the corner?  I know.  I know you’re dead, but still, regardless of your state, hypothetically and in your expert opinion, does history actually repeat itself, or are we about to arrive at an all-encompassing final moment, a collective terminus for what has been a relentless accumulation and failed containment of destruction (our so-called civilization and its discontents)?
If our lives are sustained by the stories we tell ourselves and each other (tales that displace the unknowableness of what we are before birth and what we’ll be after death) and we do so out of compulsion, perpetually unaware of it, without critical distance or understanding, is it not likely you’ve exacerbated the destructive force of the human condition, with its sex drives and murderous impulses, its want of individuation despite the benefits of a common good?  Rather than imprisoning us within something akin to Plato’s Cave or our newsfeeds, do our perceptions and narrative inventions not drop us, like deadly and oblivious carpet-bombings, onto the living world?
Perhaps exacerbate is too harsh a word.  Maybe you’ve been trying to divert our force, delay that last explosion, lead us to underground testing zones, labyrinths of deferred blow-back.  The talking cure doesn’t have to end, does it?  The struggle to secure happiness and minimize suffering can continue?
I’m not trying to answer my own questions in writing you now.  I don’t know much about anything and you’ve always seemed so sure of yourself, like a cleverly imagined, primal father-figure or God-thing narrator within the most fantastic series of novels.  The idea of you is momentarily comforting.
I’ll write again soon of course.
jeremy