too_many_gods
Con misura, solo, su centotrentadue corde, diminuendo
There are too many Gods.
Too many thoughts swirling in peoples heads, bashing together, slotting into nonsensical, yet syntactically valid, strings of nouns, verbs and adjectives. And within these structurally unsound palaces of the mind, people dance, and build new thingamajigs and doohickeys, and load them in their mechanized carriages to send to someone else’s broken palace.
The people — the sophonts — stare out through their twisted, half-blasted glass tiles, tickled with violet, or white, or infrared or ultraviolet, and see a distorted sun. They think, ‘how beautiful’. They would live there forever.
There are those who simply never enter a palace to begin with. Or, having entered once, have had it completely collapse. They barely escape with their lives, and resolve to never enter again.
What of a world where everyone’s palace was sturdy? How many gods must one kill to reach it?
What of a world where you are endowed with the knowledge that taking no action could result in suffering, yet taking action could result in suffering, yet you are blind, deaf, dumb, lame, and have no way of knowing whether your actions are good or bad?
A joke. It’s our world. Fortuna acts, unable to regard her actions and learn from them. If anyone should die, it’s her.
You may disagree. You may think yourself unmoored from transcendent whims, or cast those whims as your own. Or, perhaps you’ll claim there’s some measurable difference between a world on invisible strings and one without. Do you think it’s necessary to sever them?
I was skeptical of the world, so very skeptical. Ellen somehow smuggled in wonder, and Johnathan, from behind the universe, atop the bumpy seafoam of nothingness, smuggled in self-assurance. I see no reason to believe there is any other place to get ‘it’.
The 3 of us started a company. Synthetic Fortunes LLC…