Duh

The weight of unspoken predicates has hidden itself like dark matter all around us as our body of knowledge has grown. What we know is directly proportionate to the quantity of things we’ve lost the ability to sense.

To become human, we’ve sacrificed the richness of animal vomeronasal acuity for the power of superior vision. We let go of the now for a full-color preview of what’s ahead.

To be able to see the dashboard and read the common patterns which presage the serious injury or death of other, observably similar members of our kind gives us the causal axis. Over time, this axis thickens into the spinal column which enables us to walk upright and to know our moments as a succession of days rather than as a single set of states and rules forever failing to recall the eternally-recurring accident of the non-linear now.

In possession of the pattern-marking facility of speech, we bounce these bits of airborne patter off of one another until we’ve learned to identify otherness as if by blind sonar. We learn how to manipulate the events that threaten to end us by making others move into the path of dangers which would otherwise be aiming for us. We survive by articulating our narrative of anecdotal experience in a less-forgettable way than opposing testimony.

Good and evil arise as connective givens among allied tribes of selves. An ‘us’ extends and amplifies the signal strength of our common-tongue consensus, which competes with other corporate entities of like-minded ‘other’ sets of selves. And as the arguing storylines spend centuries building roads of binding givens, we find that what prevails over aeons of gameplay is not merely an upgrade of complexity (the inverse of which itemization of the particulate fuels the thermonuclear dismantling of matter we witness as entropy’s increase) but a dimensionally-upward revolutionary inventiveness with regard to our perceptual plasticity, by which the better wielder of self-actuated spin and the more rigorous mastery of all that which resideth within no special self, but rather sets the shared substrate of multiplayer morphology we fall into with every step—the better map we can make of this ‘reality’ we scramble to assay, the stronger model of the real we wrest; and within this nearest-to-physical-truth simulator we will divine the best strategy by which to crown the winningest will among us, which might write the final word on conscious spacetime…

We find, unfailingly, that the craftiest manipulation of truth will always prevail, and that this higher ground is only ever revealed with recourse to the least-expected lie. The genius of authorship reigns undefeated and unfixable behind a multitude of masks which admit of no individual self at all.

Know the step upon which you stand, but be ready to un-know it when you climb the next.

JKJ 1.17.15 ATL

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