More on this book
Kindle Notes & Highlights
“It sounds like an alley cat fucking a fiddle.”
We may have been false and inauthentic things, but at least we understood each other. Each of us made a presence for the other’s vacancy. We tried to pretend time wasn’t passing.
Agency—that is, volitional action aimed at achieving conscious ends—had arisen only sporadically in the galaxy, mostly in the climax ecologies of biologically active planets orbiting hospitable stars. Species capable of agency seldom lasted longer than it took them to overload and overwhelm their planetary ecologies. They were, as the stars measure time, an unstable and ephemeral phenomenon.
What is inevitable is not death but change. Change is the only abiding reality. The metaverse evolves, fractally and forever. Saints become sinners, sinners become saints. Dust becomes men, men become gods, gods become dust.
