Seque from Mr. Robot to Melancholia

Would this qualify as a 'whimper', Mr. Eliot, relative to total global thermo-nuclear meltdown? Our Noble Character while viewing, helplessly, our own Fates is a product of Glamour and Fiction......Too late for Ritual Sacrifice...time only for a gallant posturing Selfie in the mirror of Oblivion.....Or....turn back the clock, Einstein, rest for a second, then go out into the yard and play with Lassie, draw pictures with a stick in the dirt or jump from a low branch, wearing a bath towel for a cape......then, perhaps, 'grow up', join Elliot Alderson's pondering of the Lacanian psychoanalytic perspective....Live, with little concern for anything outside the bubble of immediate sensory experiences.....Redirect energy and stamina to Observation, with only distally-interactive exo-concerns......Charge into protestation and Lemming-like surges of fashionably 'correct' involvement.....or just check, to see, if that's really a hair growing from your navel........What was Donnie Darko's plan for October 3?