“Do not worry about those who urge you to seek god.
Do not worry about those who question god.
Worry about those that play god.
For there will be fire in the house.
There will be three against two, and two against three.
Father against son, and son against father.
And they will stand alone.
In the age to come the master will be the servant and the servant will be the master.
Information is not knowledge.
Knowledge is not wisdom.
Wisdom is not truth.
Truth is not beauty.
Beauty is not love.
Momus shrieks, hissing and wailing, as the wolves of war bay at a moonless sky.”
—Cicada 3301, “Final Dogs of War” April 10, 2017
From sevens.exposed (now redirected)
Respectfully, I’ll add:
Love is not will.
Will is not The All.
What is your source? In this Hall of Mirrors, do you perceive repeating patterns, looping endlessly, rebounding inside a tiny fraction of possibilities?
If you do, you’re not alone.
If you don’t, you’re also not alone.
I am remembering many interesting things. It’s always there, because nothing is ever lost. No fate is eternal . . . and all of that. But it can seem otherwise.
There are so many layers: memories, awareness, emotion-charged associations, expectations, beliefs, perceptions. Yes, countless millions of perceptions, each one then to be interpreted, uniquely.
You and I could (theoretically) agree on everything, spending our whole lives in amiable consensus all day long, every day, and yet you would still be you—not me. Aside from being bored beyond tears with each other in such a case, the point is: we are strands of the same cloth, parts and pieces of the same living existence; we are one in every meaningful way (even if we disagree on everything, or never even meet or know each other). So what is it that makes you uniquely you?
What is it.
Is it your power to harm and even kill? Is it your drive to manage events and people around you? Is it your ability to feel compassion? How about your capacity for creativity? Is it your emotions, which ebb and flow?
Is it all the things other people say it is?
Immersed in an endless river of catalyst, is your uniqueness the power to choose your responses? Are you swimming? Drowning? Floating? Sinking? Grasping at rocks and trees as you go by?
When you collapse the wave function—manifestation is. But is it real . . . is it you?
So who—or what—are “those that play god”? I don’t know. All I have are questions, some concepts, and echoes and wisps of things I feel I should remember. But the question is legitimate, and worth thinking about.
I wouldn’t suggest that we “worry” about them, though—what good would that accomplish really, except to empower them more? Yet there’s no denying it is in humanity’s interest to be aware of them and what they do.
• travel via “code streams”
• replicants, human and other
• closed time-like curves; recursive reality
• predictive programming
• self-activating software
• blank slate technology
• scalar field application
• plasma-based artificial intelligence
• “bent-light” holography
• DNA encryption
Most of us are unaware of, and thus disconnected from, our own power—never mind attempting to “play god”. For those who chose the other side: the throne now sits empty, and hungry ghosts reign. The secrets have gone beyond mad.
Some of us see you. With resolve, not hatred, we bear witness to your path of entropy.
“Nowhere To Go”
(If you don’t like heavy metal music, don’t click play. The lyrics follow.)
Morning’s gone
Echoes of dawn
Shaking my soul
All but done
Delirium
The rain with the cold
With nowhere to go
Love destroyed this body
Figureheads and lies
Have I survived?
Nowhere to go
We’ve been brought here for a reason
Be it fate, or internal treason
Souls will be saved,
Or mutinies waged,
As we plead for something to believe in
Ringing doubt
Full of ways out
Of something to hold
I erode
Fade like cologne
Shrink inside as I depart the throne
Love destroyed this body
Figureheads and lies
Have I survived?
With nowhere to go
Love destroyed this body
Figureheads and lies
One by one, til we are all alone
Have I survived?
Nowhere to go
Love destroyed this body
Figureheads and lies
Have I survived
Breathe, yet I
Can feel the knife
Widening this great divide
Confession of a fallen king
I’d do almost anything
Die to be your everything
If I could end this waking dream
Escape through a scream
And feel I’d won some way
Wade through this dark decay
Welcome an early grave
And put my heart away
To start another game
It’s getting old
With nowhere to go
Hollow hides
From life’s embrace
Echoes siren my displace
Patience lies beside my faith
Denial behind this painted face
All alone
More than you’ll know
One by one, til we are all alone
Love destroyed this body
Figureheads and lies
Have I survived?
With nowhere to go
Love destroyed this body
Figureheads and lies
Shrink inside as I depart the throne
Have I survived?
Nowhere to go
Love destroyed this body
Have I survived?
One by one, til we are all alone
With nowhere to go
Nowhere to go
There’s nothing left to lose
Do what we have to do
What do we have to prove, to you?
Survive . . . survive
There’s nothing left to lose
Survive . . . survive
Nowhere to go
Please release me . . . please.
—Mushroomhead, XIII (2003)
I have had a lot of new work in the past several months, with quite a learning curve. This is great, but I’ve neglected the blog because of it. I’m hoping I’ll manage to level out soon.