meme wars
Mood:  spacey
Now Playing: key 23 post
Across arid deserts sand blown and scorched three great beings rage against each other for dominance, whipped by winds and beaten back by the melting ochre of an aging Ra hung heavy and languid in the sky. Like the winds themselves, the dust devils, they whorl and spin, at times fierce and swift, at others thin and empty.

One such entity gathers like flies around the Nile people, buzzing in their ears and kissing their hearts, offering identity and meaning, culture and salvation. It’s arms are thick and multitude, enough to smite the pharaohs and part the seas. Yesheva is its name and it’s as much of a creation of them as they are of it - a metameme deity nourished and fed in mythic symbiosis. The deity is the enduring vessel of the culture protecting and transporting it’s archives codified in poetic myth and symbolism. The priesthood ensures that the metameme continues to have hosts - the more the better, though for Yesheva it’s been a long, difficult battle with little returns to show for the effort.

Across the cracked mud rises a second beast, a swarm of locusts singing the mind of god in maths and scriptures, rising and spreading throughout the Arab world and beyond. It speaks of discipline and devotion through the mouth of a warrior, kneeling under minarets and the crescent star. This deity binds the culture and re-enforces the blood of its people. Scimitar and Kalashnikov guard it’s mosques and defend the fecundity of its message. Allah and Mohammed guide the people and inspire fierce loyalty, their power and depth swelling the ranks of the fastest growing religion in the noosphere. This metameme is so strong it seems that many are willing to die for it.

Third comes with a great deep rumbling, passing out from the desert into the far west and east, moving into all corners like floodwaters, a million million ant legs marching onward. White-rayed, compassionate and loving, this memetic monster seems as eager to destroy its creation as save it, leaving behind its flowing white robes a thick stream of crimson tide. A tenacious meme spreading at all costs, cowing its hosts with fear then promising an afterlife of eternal sunshine while reprogramming the competition or simply eliminating them. Old myths and future revelations bookend the life of the superstar Christ, the greatest product spokesperson ever known. We offer prayers, attend schools and masses, give up our money and restrict our freedoms, all to help the meme survive, all because we believe in it.

On this dusty battlefield arms cross and clash and blood spills relentlessly as the insects wage memetic warfare against each other, vying for dominance in the humble noosphere of the human species. The prevailing memetic deities know the power of human belief and know that it’s the only way they can survive and become real. We surround ourselves with great technological extrusions, vast webworks of creations all manifest from within our minds, from within the sea of ideation, imagination. Whatever we believe in most is what will come to pass. The great struggles now pitched and fought rising towards a seeming apocalypse are being waged by thousand year old mythologies still gripping our consciousness and infecting our minds. Priests and politicians cunningly invest in their powers while common folk give their lives in servitude, like capsids bursting to perpetuate the viral progeny. When the scorecard is read, whatever deified memeplex has the most ardent believers, that’ll be the one that writes our story.

The task of every advanced human robot is to realize the power of the deified metameme, to see it’s dependence on the human host, and to know that we’re the ones who’ve created it in the first place. Whether religious, scientific, economic, or whatever, belief is both a captor and a liberator. Magick is a way to liberate belief and help write the story of humanity. Do you want the next chapter to chronicle the apocalypse of creation? Record fiery judgment and revelation upon our spoiled brattiness? Or tell of the great age of reasoned technology and ecological spirituality?

Invest belief responsibly.

meme wars
Mood:  spacey
Now Playing: key 23 post
Across arid deserts sand blown and scorched three great beings rage against each other for dominance, whipped by winds and beaten back by the melting ochre of an aging Ra hung heavy and languid in the sky. Like the winds themselves, the dust devils, they whorl and spin, at times fierce and swift, at others thin and empty.

One such entity gathers like flies around the Nile people, buzzing in their ears and kissing their hearts, offering identity and meaning, culture and salvation. It’s arms are thick and multitude, enough to smite the pharaohs and part the seas. Yesheva is its name and it’s as much of a creation of them as they are of it - a metameme deity nourished and fed in mythic symbiosis. The deity is the enduring vessel of the culture protecting and transporting it’s archives codified in poetic myth and symbolism. The priesthood ensures that the metameme continues to have hosts - the more the better, though for Yesheva it’s been a long, difficult battle with little returns to show for the effort.

Across the cracked mud rises a second beast, a swarm of locusts singing the mind of god in maths and scriptures, rising and spreading throughout the Arab world and beyond. It speaks of discipline and devotion through the mouth of a warrior, kneeling under minarets and the crescent star. This deity binds the culture and re-enforces the blood of its people. Scimitar and Kalashnikov guard it’s mosques and defend the fecundity of its message. Allah and Mohammed guide the people and inspire fierce loyalty, their power and depth swelling the ranks of the fastest growing religion in the noosphere. This metameme is so strong it seems that many are willing to die for it.

Third comes with a great deep rumbling, passing out from the desert into the far west and east, moving into all corners like floodwaters, a million million ant legs marching onward. White-rayed, compassionate and loving, this memetic monster seems as eager to destroy its creation as save it, leaving behind its flowing white robes a thick stream of crimson tide. A tenacious meme spreading at all costs, cowing its hosts with fear then promising an afterlife of eternal sunshine while reprogramming the competition or simply eliminating them. Old myths and future revelations bookend the life of the superstar Christ, the greatest product spokesperson ever known. We offer prayers, attend schools and masses, give up our money and restrict our freedoms, all to help the meme survive, all because we believe in it.

On this dusty battlefield arms cross and clash and blood spills relentlessly as the insects wage memetic warfare against each other, vying for dominance in the humble noosphere of the human species. The prevailing memetic deities know the power of human belief and know that it’s the only way they can survive and become real. We surround ourselves with great technological extrusions, vast webworks of creations all manifest from within our minds, from within the sea of ideation, imagination. Whatever we believe in most is what will come to pass. The great struggles now pitched and fought rising towards a seeming apocalypse are being waged by thousand year old mythologies still gripping our consciousness and infecting our minds. Priests and politicians cunningly invest in their powers while common folk give their lives in servitude, like capsids bursting to perpetuate the viral progeny. When the scorecard is read, whatever deified memeplex has the most ardent believers, that’ll be the one that writes our story.

The task of every advanced human robot is to realize the power of the deified metameme, to see it’s dependence on the human host, and to know that we’re the ones who’ve created it in the first place. Whether religious, scientific, economic, or whatever, belief is both a captor and a liberator. Magick is a way to liberate belief and help write the story of humanity. Do you want the next chapter to chronicle the apocalypse of creation? Record fiery judgment and revelation upon our spoiled brattiness? Or tell of the great age of reasoned technology and ecological spirituality?

Invest belief responsibly.