UNITY: Consensus was a dirty word in most neighborhoods. Like it was lose-lose. But the Quakers made it sing. No voting, no majority rule—just a room full of believers wrestling with the Truth until it pinned them all to the mat. Democracy with its sleeves rolled up and its hands dirty.

SILENCE: The meeting house was quiet as a grave at midnight. Two dozen souls sat in wooden pews, waiting for the Spirit to move them. In this racket, silence was the only currency that mattered. And brother, it was worth more than all the world's noisy bars.

This much is getting clear: AI serves those who already know how to think, dream, imagine. For those who can't—or won't—do the hard work of thinking, it becomes a crutch that weakens them further. I already feel the divide growing.