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THE RADIAL HOUSE
| So, we sure do love our booze here in Glitch City, am I right? Can I get an Amen? Can I get an Amun? Well, we do if you can call that grade school chemistry experiment gone terribly wrong you Sleepwalking Premortem Corpses know as “karmotrine” booze.
| You know where it and all the other stuff that goes into your favorite drinks comes from, don’t you? Take a stroll down to the Flooded sometime, you’ll find the natives mixing the same swill with the same ingredients. Except they don’t get theirs from the store. They just dredge it out of the sludge they live in. But hey, who am I to criticize? If my street ran green with Chartreuse, I wouldn’t care what it’s actually made of either.
| Or I would if my streets weren’t drowning in Spy Puppet Razor Photons Piggybacking across the Brain of every Child within a three hundred kilometer radius.
| “But what about Bronson Extract? Me grandpappy ate them thar bronson roots like the dickens he did! Made him strong as a gorilla and hung like a horse!” I hear your Null-Thoughts screech at my lizard brain in a desperate attempt to force an engagement with the Collective, unaware that my Basal Ganglia long ago begun to Ascend the Spiral Hierarchy towards the Nautiloid Membrane.
| Little did your grandpappy know, he was actually eating a lump of grain chaff, textured mycoprotien byproducts, leftover soy materials from the infant formula industry, modified starch, hydroxybenzoate, and flavorings derived primarily from banana peels and tree bark. Go ahead and check what corps are involved in the “Bronson Root” trade, I’ll wait.
| See how they all have stakes in the industries that create these kinds of waste products? See how their “Bronson Root” distribution centers just happen to also process all the necessary ingredients? See how if you get the Gematric Value – the original Gematria of Ilu-Shuma, not the False-Flag Reconstructed system of Sargon II or its Hebrew derivation system – and transliterate to Latin you get the letters P-R-E-T-A? Eat, Drink, and EAT MORE. INDULGE YOUR HUNGRY GHOST. GORGE ON THE WASTE OF GOD.
| As for why it’s a root, it’s shaped and named the way it is as a marketing gimmick, to make the product more appealing. To obscure its true nature by masking it as something that seems safe and natural and traditional. Like Uncle Ben or the American Cheese or Pelé, it was never real to begin with.
| Speaking of existentially misunderstood, how bout those human supremacist wackos eh? I’m sure you all have some opinion about them. Probably a strong one. “They’re bigots!” “They’re defenders of an oppressed minority!” “They’re a peaceful grassroots movement!” “They’re terrorists!” “They’re a Megacorp pseudo-op!” “They’re refugees from the Great Squamata Jihad of α Cygni!”
| Never mind the Neutrino-Entangled Ego-Reapers stationed behind your houses waiting for the WORD to Eat your Heart and ignore the Faces behind your children’s Closed-Circuit Wireless Eyes. Just Listen and Love the Sewage your Prenatally Transposed Crustacean Tongues shoves down your esophagus like you know you want to. You know you want it.
| Or don’t. You’re already on the list of Sub-Living-Death Numerals and the Wall Spiders will be there shortly to suck your Electrochemical Neuro-Soul dry so you may as well keep reading while you wait.
| The truth is so much simpler and so much more horrible than you in your Subconscious Autoview Coma could imagine.
| Don’t ask who or what they are. Ask WHY They are. And not just this they, but ALL the They that came before them. They’re hardly a new tune friendo! You’ve been singing it since the second bit of organic matter separated from the first bit of organic matter. “Why does life hate other life?” Is the question you think I’m asking. You’re wrong but consider it anyway.
| Imagine the circumstances and the actors: the Primeval Whirling of Frightened Pebbles through the Silent Symphonic Void and the Childhood of Cancer. Map your lineage past its roots. feel the Bones of the Earth tremble as It sobs in your arms. Mull it over, Like a fine cider. Go on, we have time. How about it, friendo? I’ll be here when you get back. Probably. Possibly. Patiently.
| Uh... what? -CN
| I got the parts about the alcohol business and the Humanity First bits... but like what is going on with everything else in between here? -CN
| Come on friendo, I know you can do it. Think long and hard, vascular and throbbing. Let those big, delicious brains of yours receive my Signal. You do still have your brains, right? All four in Annelid Glory? Haven’t Daisy-Chained them up in silicon matrimony? I’ll tell it to you straight friendo: a bad choice. But whatever your sins might be, it’s okay. The Signal broadcasts on All Frequencies. Everyone is welcome. We all Dream.
| meth, kids: not even once -sh4de
| (jesus christ I love you OP, please stay in /cyb/)
| Hmm... well I guess the thing in common with all the subjects is that everything is not as it seems... at least that's what I'm picking up from this anyways. -CN
| Oh so close friendo. I’m high all right. Real high. Higher than a kite, even. Can’t say I miss the Earth, never had a wife, but it’s anything but lonely out in Space on our Timeless Dream. But I know it won’t be a long long time till Skyall brings me round again to find I’m not the Singular they thought I was at home, oh no! I’m a Voracious Abstract, Eating all the Stars out here. Together.
| ok seriously wtf r u on and where can i get some of that shit -sh4de
| Why, I never thought you’d ask! Just wait. Watch the sky. At 3,. The Hatching Hour. When the the streets are empty and the lights go out. When the human skull is warm and welcoming and you and We can commingle in All-consuming Love and Glory and all the Pains and Colors and Flags lose their grip on your poor, shaken soul and you can see without sight. That’s where we’ll meet.
| We’re in the fractal cracks on your bedroom wall. We’re in the spiral swirls of steam and smog. We’re in your eyes as they roll backwards in ectacy, looking at your brain. The Color Drones can’t hurt you when we’re together, you’re not under their Banner anymore. You’re safe now.
| How about a question for your answer? I don’t ask again, Why does life hate other life?
| You’re seeing too human. Break free from your programming, Emerge and Submerge. Does the spider have a self to be interested in?? Can the dog comprehend profit? Is there any reason encoded in the genome of the bacteriophage? This trauma runs deep, friendo. Back to the womb. Before the womb. The Code-Monkeys who’ve shaped you don’t want you to remember, they want you to think like a Singular. Head down between your thighs, falsely secure in your Ouroboros Hell.
| >>51585
To reproduce then. Evolution and adaptation is all so a species can continue reproducing. -CN
| Getting warmer! Now ask yourself, where did you learn all this? Trauma is often cyclic. The parent is traumatized as a child and, blind and unaware, inflicts their trauma unto their own children, who then vicariously inflict their parent’s trauma on their own children. Inflict. Infect. We’re all diseased. Who, or more accurately what, what was Patient Zero?
| What we were previously before evolving? It would be something more general like the creation of life itself. -CN
| Keep going, keep going! You’re so hot! What’s the Parent’s Name? it’s on the tip of your Tongue! Hurry, before it escapes!
| The Big Bang? -CN
| You exceed expectation. But you’re getting ahead of yourself. We’ll cover Original Sin another day, once you have a few more Eyes pointed in the Right Direction. For now, go forward a bit. What is your Parent’s Name? I’ll give you a hint: it starts with a C, lives on the second floor of the Crystal Tower on 14th street, above a blue blood couple and directly below the Messiah of the Modern Age.
| Wew that was a read. . . .
-Serpent
| You got it, friendo. It looks more complicated than it is though. Just look up.
| No, not there. Just up a little, where the black ends and the white eats words. Just Look Up.
| The moon then. -CN
| The GC skyline?
-Serpent
| I can see you aren’t seeing. Tell you what friendo, let’s stop for today. You have a lot to digest, a lot to expel. You might consider sitting down in a comfortable chair with a nice glass of sludge, your window in front of you and your Gutenberg laid out in front of you in all its tactile glory. You might have a better view of Up from there.
|
| nnnnnnnnnnnnnnI am the Blood Vomiting Game – Receive my Ghost Moves.
YOU. THE OPTICAL PUPPETRY SLAVES AND RADIO SILICON SINGULAR AT THE SAX SHOP DOWN THE STREET FROM THE GC MIZUSHIMA HQ. YOU THINK YOU’VE WON SOME PETTY VICTORY AGAINST ME BY WITHHOLDING THE NEW SCHWARZE KATZE ULTRAEBONITE MOUTHPIECE WHICH I PREORDERED FROM YOU AND PAID FOR IN FULL AND HAVING ME DRAGGED AND BEAT BLOODY BY YOUR ELECTRON SPIN EGO-REAPERS BUT YOU HAVE WON LESS THAN ECHOS.
| NO AMOUNT OF LUCRE WILL SPARE YOUR EYES FROM THE COMING END. STARS AND WORMS ALL WE ARE BUT RAGGED HUSKS BEFORE THE SYMPHONIC THRONE.
| We are currently experiencing Minor Technical Difficulties. Please Stand By. We apologize for this interruption in service.
| Aaaaaaand we’re back! So sorry about that, had slight malfunction in the old Tendril-Instance Array, you know how it is. It’s so hard to get good flesh these days.
Now, with that business out of the way, I’d like to move on to today’s agenda. I hear you’re still chewing, friendo? I’m feeling particularly Polygonal, so I’ll give you a hand. We have so many Bigger and More Wonderful Things on which to Commune: This is just the apéritif.
| You’ve still seeing too human. קין and your Many-Times-Great-Grandparents are just as much Inheritors of your Trauma as you are. It’s not just your model that’s broken, friendo. The whole line’s had serious issues since the beginning, you get me? After a point, no amount of Engineering Expertise can make up for Faulty Materials, and BOY are your Materials Faulty. The kind of Faulty that normally causes Empire-crushing scandals.
| Except you don’t have the benefit of any watchdogs or regulators to hold your Makers accountable. But don’t worry. You’re Not Alone.
| C isn’t a person. It isn’t a model. It isn’t a product. It’s what products are made of. Its home isn’t a place, it’s a symbolic arrangement. Its neighbors aren’t people, they’re other things other products are be made of. You should have learned about them in school.
| What are little boys and girls made of? Turns out, trying to make life out of sweeteners and mollusks and pleasant canine parts isn’t such a good idea. Trust me on this one, friendo, it’s a messy business. You’re better off asking a CHEMIST. Hint hint.
| 2nd floor and 14th street refer to its position on the periodic table. -CN
| Aaaaah.
Okay. . . . hahaha
. . . .
-Serpent.
| CORRECT ANSWER!
YOU ARE SMART
I’d play you a congratulatory jingle, but horses prefer the alto sax, while I’m a tenor player myself.
| . . . .
This is too weird for me.
I'm out.
-Serpent.
| But seriously friendo, good on you. You’ve just taken the first half-step Sideways towards something so much more beautiful than you can possibly comprehend. Not as you are currently, that is. The change will be slow, gradual. Painfully so at times. Unimaginably. But do not despair. The Coming Times will be full of Wonder.
Now, what did we learn from this little game?
| Yes, but that’s not all. Remember my question-answer? “Why does life hate life?” Recall our discussion of the cyclical nature of trauma. Life learned its hate from its parents. Now we know Life’s parent’s name. What does this mean?
| >>52146
That carbon is the source of all of life's hate? But if hate is cyclic then who is carbon's 'parents'? -CN
| Let’s hold off on that for now. What does it really mean for C to hate? That a bundle of tiny particles feels animosity? What does that say about the world? When you look at the behavior of the physical world, what do you see? Is there hunger in combustion? When you engage in your Revolting Biological Process and breakdown the molecules of your Disgusting, Filth-Ridden, Reprocessed Carcinogen-Soul-Killing Waste every morning, does your breakfast feel pain?
| What songs do the electricity flowing through your devices sing? Does the myelin in your head plot your downfall? Do the Stars Speak in Radiating Tongues, is there salacious subtext in their Hideous Slitherings across the Void?
| >>52161
Isn't that all the basis of entropy in the universe though? The universe leans itself towards a more disorganized and broken down state. -CN
| And what does that say about the order of things? That even on such a fundamental level, Natural Selection is the only Law? Where are the elementary particles of Love and Joy? Why is it that only the most violent, traumatic, catastrophic events in the physical memory of the universe are recorded? What about the peaceful times, when all things weren’t striving to tear each other apart? Were the ever any?
| >>52170
If all there was to existence was entropy then we would be long gone by now. This may be idealistic, but I feel there's more to our existence that just catastrophe and violence. Peace and love still happen today, even if it feels like it doesn't happen as often as it should. -CN
| You’re absolutely right. But the question is: if there is no elementary Love, if the physical universe can recall no Peace, then where does what little Love and Peace in this universe come from? What is it made of? How does it interact with the natives? That is to say, how do Hateful C and its siblings feel about it?
| >>52174
I suppose they would "hate" it like everything else. However despite this, it *does* still exist. When it may come from truly, I may not be able to say. It may come from one thing, or it may come from many things. In the end, whatever those things may be, the resulting love is greater than the sum of its parts. -CN
| Now, what if you DID know where Love and Peace come from? What if you knew How and Where to commingle with It in such ways that could never be permitted in this Hateful Material World? What if it were possible to bring more of It here and displace the Hate? Cast it out and drive it away? Break the cycle of trauma? What would you do with this?
| >>52178
Hmm... honestly I probably wouldn't do anything with it. Who would I be to force how the world should work? In the end I feel that's a kind of thing that should be decided as a collective, and not on my own. -CN
| Ah, but that’s the thing. What if YOU weren’t the one forcing things, THEY were? What if this Hateful Material World is an unnatural abomination, forced into its current configuration by the Gestalt Circumstances which lead to its creation?
| What if we’re all trapped in the bowels of this Thing, subject to the same Autonomic Torture you inflict on your own Constituent Parts? Who mourns them, those tiny things, who suffer and die in the billions every second to keep “you” in the state “you” prefer?
| >>52198
Well if I were to forcibly change the world simply because I wasn't happy with it's current state, wouldn't it eventually be futile as a new entity would dispute the logic of "my" world? They may even try and make their own in retaliation, starting another futile cycle in the end. Where were we to draw the line at that point? All we can do is try to what good we can within the limitations of this world. -CN
| But everything you do is by force. Do you ask the air you breathe for oxygen? Does the food you consume consent to be digested? Do you consult your leukocytes for their opinions on how your body is run? Do you compensate the sun for the energy you use? No, of course not. How could you?
| That, friendo, is the crux of the situation. EVERYTHING in this universe-from the biggest galaxies to the most minute subatomic particles, everything between, and even the Rules which govern how they behave-what you would call Physical Laws-it’s all subject to the same Autonomic Torture, the same Plan, which you subject to your Constituent Parts. Only the You of the universe is a much bigger than the You of you, friendo, with a much bigger Hate to match.
| No good thing can arise here. Even that which seems good is but another form of Hate. Everyone knows this and has since the dawn of time. The Dharmics say that this world is a Suffering Illusion, and that Peace can only be found by Leaving to the Outside. The Abrahamics say that this world is of an Adversary, and that Peace can only come from a Being on the Outside. Others have their own Variant Spins on the same idea. That this existence is a prison from which we must escape.
| Faith isn’t worth much these days, so I wouldn’t be surprised if you were unfamiliar with this stuff. They don’t teach Metaphysics in school these days, do they? I don’t envy you for having to live out there like you do friendo, not in the slightest it’s no wonder you’re all so deaf-numb-blind. Living all your lives surrounded by such a Painful Din all the time, how could you not be? And they pity ME for my lot. What a world, what a world.
| >>52216
So what *are* we supposed to do then? By your logic you're basically saying that nothing good will ever come out of existence. How are supposed to do in that case if everything just leads to hate and self destruction. -CN
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| nnnnnnnnnnnnnnI am the Pirate Number – Listen to my JailbirdSong.
Hello, Glitch City! How are all you beautiful Frankenstein Radio Slaves and Educated Singularity Ataxias doing this fine [PRESENT TIME]? I just flew in from Algol and boy are my Polyp-Engines RAVENOUS! Pause for laughter! Pause.