Sort:  

Hey, and welcome. Do you remember those cartoons where Wiley coyote would careen right off the edge of a cliff, still running legs just a pumping. Until he looked down and realized he had actually gone over. Are we at the edge, toes dangling, dirt and grit keeping us from getting a solid footing, trying desperately to hold back the horde from pushing us all over or are we the coyote?

Some of us are the coyote - some of us are still on land, at varying distances from the edge. Up to those who know the distances, and the existence of the sliff, to usher the lemmings from the drop.