Au79 - 2

From the fucking hole I made my way. The dirt is crisp and the air is near, but whatever this that
dampens it is urging me backwards. A mix of forty-thousand ideas and nearsighted
misunderstandings that can push back into the hollow of wooden paneling and wallpaper.

Christ hung upside down, and only he can know that. Looking backwards through all
directions and dimensions, and he knows that the people who wished to crucify him only did so
out of their own fear of the power he could muster. For see, that power has never been a bushybearded white light in the sky raining hellfire and brimstone down upon creation. After all, what
being creates entropy in order to defy its own rejection of entropy? No, the power to create and
destroy is all one, volatile and reserved. Even more bending in reality is the fact that, uniquely,
conscious beings are the best at both, and the only who could observe the cycle of a star,
identify with such short-sightedness the end result of this beautiful process, and recreate it. The
unending spiral into chaos is what binds us all together, just as the fight against it, the fight for
order, for meaning, is what separates us.
You see, the power of man is to command the power of god, to command that order and
chaos should occupy different dimensional points. After all, in the highest forms of society, you
fall asleep in a moderately cooled, quiet box. As man, you have harnessed the power of god to
gift yourself order. The issue arises when man, in his short-sighted, uni-directional view of time,
assumes that his power is greater than dividing order and chaos, so great that man themselves
can DEFINE order and chaos. And so man defines order: access to those resources which
survive man till his seed has been planted, access to seed, access to trade, access to
communication, ect. All is well till another man comes and chooses to redefine its meaning, or,
even more, decides these concepts and their physical manifestations to be out of line with their
own definition of order and chaos. And so, as commanders of their own god, they go about
sowing the seeds of destruction in the institutions of the non-complying individuals.
But the conscience, harnessing the power of god, decides to manifest god in the
collective enforcement of the rules and institutions, birthing governance.
And as the governance grows, and fights off the chaos in its own way, infinitely, it fills in
the holes of its own conception. Like fixing the structural integrity of a building. When the
building is a one story hut, the creation and maintenance of that box is easy and requires little
resource. But for every story added, the structure becomes more and more difficult to maintain.
And thus, when the building is too high, it eventually collapses, and damages its neighboring
structures.

So in America, man decided, at its inception, there would be no box enforced on the
people, and people would be free to build whatever they desired. Once established the people
were free and happy and racist and sexist and all the evils that 19th-century perceptions
propagated (free to the common white man). And many built one-story houses, or a handful of
houses, one for each of their family needs. And some were able to create two stories, or three,
or even ten. Such that there could be towers, reaching up to heaven, where one could shout and
communicate to the largest audience. All in the pursuit of their vision of god, all in the pursuit of
understanding their command over nature and machine.
With the money and resources comes the tallest buildings in the world, so big that their
collapse would spell death and destruction for all those within its radius. And of course, the
entrepreneurial and spirited capitalists of their time knew this, and could use it as leverage,
racketeering their neighbors, so large that they could harness all one-hundred stories worth of
people to carry out the commands of what they believe is god.
The man with the one-story hut perceive this, realizing the merits of such men, but is
powerless; after all, America is the land of the free, and you cant go around placing bombs in
buildings. But the people cannot unite, because gods will, in that one-hundred story tower, is to
make sure the people are so divided, so hateful of each other, that they can never unite to create
a building as big as gods. So the people hate and the people squabble amongst themselves,
forgetting the insurance they owe to the building owners, as they are guided to hatred for the
one-story brethren.
This carries on until a single realization, that, through governance, the people can unite.
They can give their powers to command god to a construction company that will do the work of
the people, will create the towers, and will shout from the tops of buildings to each other, will
make their voice heard from one-hundred stories up. And so balance is returned to metropolis.
Until the capitalists realize they can control the construction company.
Obviously, they cannot do it in the public eye, as then the public would unite around the
destruction of the false prophet, and the destruction of those manipulating it. So, they find the
least adequate, most loyal individuals from each of their buildings, and assemble them into a
crew to build towers. And as their two-hundred story skyscraper is being built, they take out a
few support beams here and there, just enough to give the building a wobble.
One-hundred years later, the building is shaking, and the people who banded together to
create it for the betterment of the common man have no idea why. Their guess is as good as
anyones. And so anyone will guess at how to fix the building, not knowing it was created with
the intention of falling. Some will use welding, some will use glue, some will try to rebuild the
tower with Jenga blocks.

America,
STOP REPAIRING YOUR BUILDINGS WITH JENGA BLOCKS.
LET ALL YOUR BUILDINGS COLLAPSE.

Only then will we be able to redefine what is order and what is chaos.