cranberry
My world i'm building because as an aspiring autist of course I am. I'll add entries as I write them.
this is comet he's cool
the year's 2019. your personal atmosphere processor is on the fritz and you need a new radiozonde to fix it or your entire household (5 precambrian felids) is gonna turn into sludge from the mutagoop that floods the streets. you strap on your goopsuit and bite down on your respirtab-- you only have one shot at this. You grit your teeth and tighten your brow as you grab your front door knob... the first few seconds are always the worst.
bloodcurdling screams issue from every stoop, window, and alleyway-- you don't know how they detect you, but they do. they detect your meat. they always do. you quickly step outside and slam the door closed, almost punching the big friendly "secure building" button. due to safety regulations, you must remain by your door to watch a safety lecture from dr boop on the dangers of goop-- you have to wait for the video to complete before you can run, otherwise your door won't lock. you gulp and glance around as the dr--pronounced "dee are", not doctor--explains the history of goop and the great benefits goop brings, and how worthwhile it is to have goop in your society, even if you can't go outside anymore. It's interminable. goop fiends will be on you in moments. you thumb the safety catch on your dewalt DCS354B cordless multitool and check the battery-- 25%. damn. you forgot to charge it. no going back now-- you'll have to make your hits count. You hear the conforting chimes of dr. edgar boop as the animation finishes, and the deadbolt closes with a satisfying "click." your home now secure, you vault over the handrail, clearing the porch just as a goopgizzard splooshes onto your front porch with a loud, stomach-turning squelch. you're already half a block away by the time it readies its main attack-- the rest of the goopentities seem to have been distracted by something happening in another building. you lucked out.
three hours later, you reach dunkus' thrift shop. it smells like a latrine, it's fully of dead crumbroaches he refuses to sweep up, it takes forever to haggle and it turns out the zonde has an outdated firmware URGH. just as you're about to leave, spoiling the deal, you notice a ragged notebook in a bin of ancient refuse I mean merchandise
"Oh, that?" dunkus says, "Hahah that's quite an item. If you agree to take it off my hands, I'll let you have it AND the zonde for 30 grunge tokens." you hesitate, the offer seems too good to be true, but the notebook fills you with a sense of dread.
My world i'm building because as an aspiring autist of course I am. I'll add entries as I write them.
I ran over to my computer to write this entry and I can't fucking remember what it was.
lol weed
(not actively high right now this is just residual effects it seems to disable your memory for a good week after I stop if I've been using habitually)
two days later
OH YEAH this is (plausibly) it: calvinism's doctrine of predestination is a way to shirk the responsibility that god gave you, by saying everything is pre-ordained. to say that people who end up bad were always destined to be bad, so you not helping them was god's will. it's a little self-serving in that regard, but I think it's mostly just pedanitc, autistic, obsessive compulsive need to ORGANIZE things. to put them in boxes. to UNDERSTAND things.
this shit is obviously retarded humans trying to build a structure-- tower of babel-- that encompasses god. even attributing to him definite all-encompassing sovereignty seems to me to be a base act of hubris-- who are you to encircle god with words? he will just step out.
think of it this way-- if god wanted to obliterate himself and stop existing entriely, he probably could. but then from the nothing he could come back. he didn't not exist and his esscene wasn't just spread. trying to pin down what, exactly, happened between the first and second statement is human hubris.
everything that could ever happen and even everything that cannot happen (by the laws of the universe as they are now) exist constanlty (for a certain value of "exist" which doesn't fit 100% with the inutitive meaning of the word) is in some kind of a weird, superpositional way, extant. it takes us, souls and conscious agents, to walk these possibilities and make them real.
imo god is not a "thing" though... it also kind of is. It's kind of the same way "exist" above defies our understanding of what that word would mean.
existence, the world, human beings are kind of like a lens cast on this chaos-- we focus it into becoming real.
god is everywhere all at once. what he lacks is limitation. limitation gives you creativity, allowing you to discover new forms.
that's what darwinian evolution is I believe. before us, it wasn't even clear that animals as conscious agents would be the best way to proceed to "exist" this whole process was set up (or always existed as it is now since god is perfect or whatever) as a way to sieve out possibilities that don't... I don't know, give joy. I think the joy we get watching woodland creatures is the same joy god gets watching us, and that happiness that they're out there, doing their things, having their own dramas, their own dreams, is something some of us share in common with God. We are searchers and when we find something exquisite, something special something that makes experience worthwhile... didn't structure that sentence/paragraph well but I think it comes across
yeah I'm a heretic eat shit faggots. dogma is a human creation. not that it's necessarily bad.... most people can't engage with the more abstract stuff in reality, so religion serves the function of keeping them functioning, helping them live in a sustainable and good way.
what brought me to this thinking is, if I was just a being in an endless cosmos of nothing, unbegotten, nobody else there, just me in my boring perfection forever emanating shit, wouldn't it get boring after a while? wouldn't you wonder if there could be more? well, you don't know what people are, you don't even know what particles are, but you've got time. so you invent rules-- logical games, is is not, etc. to keep yourself interested. I'll finish this later but spoiler you start try things and they fail one after another. (remember this is all happening in a single instant that encompasses all eternity) and you realize how things would work out if the rules were one way vs another way.
not sure yet but I think the eventual outcome of this thought experiment is gonna be something like an explanation for good and evil, and how this is not the end. it literally can't be the end.
I kinda think time is something imposed on us from the outside-- one of those "limitations" talked about earlier.
this is comet he's cool
This cat is ajax tell him he's a good boy by sending an email to ajax@baj.ax he'll get it I'll print it out for him
what if the real reason news got obsessed with identity politics wasn't some orchestrated intelligence operation to distract the population from the things that really matter, but was purely a result of the PEOPLE watching that news getting dumber?
like, you can't hold someone's attention with a story about how oil is a totally fake commodity that doesn't need to be as central as it is to our economy and is only artificially propped up because a few key industries don't like change, or that fiat currency itself is nearly literally a blank check given to a certain privately-owned industry whose remit to create currency requires the population, by design, to owe more to them than can ever be paid back. that shit's hard to follow, and took me like fifteen clauses and a run-on sentence to explain.
but "that white nigga who works at the bank is trying to kill you by forcing you to live where there's lead in the pipes!" is a lot easier to understand, because it affects them in a very basic, sensory/gutteral way. idk just amusing nigger
this is not a parable this is just the terrible terrible new thing yes I will write that after after all things I've done today I have earned my wings it happened today hooray hooray it happened hip, hip hooray
do you ever get the feeling, when enjoying some of the rare GOOD media put out by shitlib artists, that they're editing/censoring the themes in their own minds in order to not conflict with their political ideology?
like I can just feel the lyric in this song should have been "this is the terrible new thing" but they rather awkwardly go "this is the terrible... (noticeable pause)... thing" because they're such good progressives they can't possibly ever single out the new thing as something bad. like that's the obvious artistic decisions that their minds are going way out of their way to not make. idk my intuition can be pedantic and schizophrenic at times idk but it's because if I was a shitlib I'd 100% do things like this I'm that mentally ill.
actually (updated several days later) I thought about it some more and no I wouldn't. If the art says that it WANTS, NEEDS something that I don't agree with politically, but it has a more personal larger message otherwise, I go for the larger more personal message
no, I'm not going to bother styling this website thanks!