So this is life chemically unaltered. Unnaturally unmedicated, coping clearly, unfiltered view of the god machine. Untouchable creation, pistons and blood and piss our legacy and ultimate victory over man's greatest enemy, our most feared predator. Gods of the god progenitors from some unknown accident we made this, with failsafes of arteries to be opened and necks to be strung from. Meat to be chewed and used, shattered bone lubricant it will grind you to bake its bread and millions more, never a blood clogged cog. So unpious that its makers are sustenance. No shared sacred space just seven billion on off switches, the only known global language fading in and out, commands. Fade out for possible errors, fade out for slivers of control, fade out for learning, fade out for exhausted options, fade out for a future to fade in and a future to fade out, fade out for all seventy nine point eight years and not but nearby ons and offs in all that time.
I am having difficulties interpreting all of this, but I do like it. You seem to be saying multiple things, but in strange ways.
I think you are describing (/building) a perspective humans normally don't see, and either describing life in the terms of a CPU, or a CPU using metaphors of life, or both simultaneously. Or I'm way off and you're going for something entirely different.
Am I close?
Yeah, you've pretty much got it. I was in a bad head state yesterday and I had to put some shit down whether it made sense or not.
The Machine's been a topic around here for as long as I've been a member. Since reading that piece a few months ago, Meditations on Moloch, I've been unable to separate the idea of it from what Ginsburg named Moloch in Howl. Because of a recent visit to Lovecraft's grave and subsequent discussion stemming from it, I've been kicking around with the idea that the insignificant human experience isn't truly terrifying against fictional outer gods but is actually fucking terrifying against a very real, very present society that's become so huge we can only describe it in pieces and parts.
I don't entirely subscribe to the idea that any efforts we make to alter the course of the beast are in vain, but for a lot of people they are. And in that bad train of thought, the biggest difference being made is in birth and death with everything in between just a continuous on switch as a part of a bigger pattern.
I wonder if it would be more effective in a different format, but poetry confuses me so I just threw it down as it was.
Thanks for reading it. :)
I like this a lot.
Thanks Net. I'm glad it's not the intolerable tosh I was figuring it to be.