As you remember, we last left our intrepid bullshit artist, "The Mythic Zenophile," clinging to the tattered remnant of a failing code halo, circling the event horizon of a place where hope still exists. "We will love you to death," was to be the battle cry of shut ins all across the world wide overground. But it was too late. "Mommy, when I grow up I want to have super powers to smell peoples thoughts, just like Zenophile does," Mommy? Why can't we run Zenophile for president? Mommy how come? The story was going nowhere.
In the real world nothing ever really happens, it was already somebody else's responsibility and we are all just fighting over the scrapes now anyways. The world was scheduled to come to an end a long time ago. There's even a lottery now to see who's going to gets stuck having to unplug the machine, after all heroic measures to revive humanity have failed of course.
Inquiries have started coming in from all across the overground. "Aren't there supposed to be severe risks involved in those interminable missions into the "DEEPTIME?" People started to want to sign up for these hazardous duties, mining the event horizons of any possibly supportable alternate parallel realities. The fact is there is no way to get back home from these expeditions. This only adds to the suicidal glamour and appeal. The Interspace Nano probes are designed to be self designating, but the kids still want to ride along even when it's just another failed futile expedition into the predictably small and commonplace. Time has run out for all of us here in the real world, before most of us were even born. There is no longer a future to dream about, so time travel demands that we escape into the present, now. Into the Deep Time. Even still the moment just seems to want to, slip away from us once and for all, anyways. Good bye.
"Deep Time Explorers wanted," are how the bulletins read. "Limited engagements only. Sign up or be left out." "Tomorrow isn't happening so you better find somewhere else to go, today." that's what your kids are thinking about when they are staring blankly at you from across the breakfast table. They're thinking about being courageous Zenophiles. Each and everyone of them. They all know it's bullshit, and that even if we could find that one door that leads us back into a real tomorrow, somebody would just take it away from them all over again, telling them, "You know better than to dream of a better world." "We are all Doomed!" It's how God intended. Your children are raised by digital nannies. If you want to find God, now days, you will find him online. Come children, your futility awaits.
In the real world nothing ever really happens, it was already somebody else's responsibility and we are all just fighting over the scrapes now anyways. The world was scheduled to come to an end a long time ago. There's even a lottery now to see who's going to gets stuck having to unplug the machine, after all heroic measures to revive humanity have failed of course.
Inquiries have started coming in from all across the overground. "Aren't there supposed to be severe risks involved in those interminable missions into the "DEEPTIME?" People started to want to sign up for these hazardous duties, mining the event horizons of any possibly supportable alternate parallel realities. The fact is there is no way to get back home from these expeditions. This only adds to the suicidal glamour and appeal. The Interspace Nano probes are designed to be self designating, but the kids still want to ride along even when it's just another failed futile expedition into the predictably small and commonplace. Time has run out for all of us here in the real world, before most of us were even born. There is no longer a future to dream about, so time travel demands that we escape into the present, now. Into the Deep Time. Even still the moment just seems to want to, slip away from us once and for all, anyways. Good bye.
"Deep Time Explorers wanted," are how the bulletins read. "Limited engagements only. Sign up or be left out." "Tomorrow isn't happening so you better find somewhere else to go, today." that's what your kids are thinking about when they are staring blankly at you from across the breakfast table. They're thinking about being courageous Zenophiles. Each and everyone of them. They all know it's bullshit, and that even if we could find that one door that leads us back into a real tomorrow, somebody would just take it away from them all over again, telling them, "You know better than to dream of a better world." "We are all Doomed!" It's how God intended. Your children are raised by digital nannies. If you want to find God, now days, you will find him online. Come children, your futility awaits.
