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But one of the Miasma’s perversities was that it made otherwise sane people like him—people who had better things they could have been doing—devote energy to arguing with completely random fuckwits, many of whom probably didn’t even believe in their own arguments, some of whom weren’t even humans.
stymied to perfect exasperation—she was the archetype of the failed entrepreneur.
Crazytown was repelled by facts and knowledge, as oil fled from water, but was fascinated by the absence of hard facts, since it provided vacant space in which to construct elaborate edifices of speculation.
if he can get you to believe Moab was nuked by spending a million bucks, just imagine what the Russians and the big Internet companies are doing to your mind every day with much larger budgets.
The mass of people are so stupid, so gullible, because they want to be misled. There’s no way to make them not want it. You have to work with the human race as it exists, with all of its flaws. Getting them to see reason is a fool’s errand.”
Speech is aggression Every utterance has a winner and a loser Curiosity is feigned Lying is performative Stupidity is power
the whole point of a conspiracy theory is to offer a kind of false coherence.”
The result of the measurement will depend on the resolution of the measuring device used.”
Now we’re back in a situation where the people who have the power and the money can get what they want by dictating what the mass of people ought to believe.”
The awareness that death was not permanent and that everyone could potentially live forever was the most momentous thing that humans could possibly have learned. The only things that might have rivaled it would have been proof of the existence of God, or the discovery of alien civilizations in other star systems. But neither of those had actually happened.
Adam felt in his breast some of the same emotions as when Feller docked a log from his pile; but as with Feller, he made no outward sign of feeling so, and knew himself diminished thereby. It occurred to him to wonder what happened, at such moments, to the substance that had been subtracted from his form. Was it added in the same moment to that of Messenger of El, or of El himself? Was Feller growing at Bluff’s expense? Could one soul consume another, given enough time?
“Frankly, we have no idea,” said Enoch, who was beginning to sound slightly impatient. “But that seems the most plausible outcome based on our understanding of how we came to be here. Which is flawed. We are cracked vessels.”
I think it reasonable to assume that I was sent hither on a one-way trip from another plane of existence whose exact nature will forever remain mysterious to us.
She turned to see that older chap who had made the joke earlier, and recognized him as Enoch Root. “Did you really just ask me if I want to die?” she shot back. He just got a wry look and said nothing. As if she had caught him out in some mischief.
“So this has happened before?” she asked. She began strolling over toward the visualization of Landform 2, where Dodge—Egdod—the REAP—whatever you wanted to call him—was poised, wings spread, above the top of his dark tower. “Perhaps not this,” said Enoch, walking by her side, “but—” “You know what I mean.” “Yes,” he confirmed.
Simulation
“You can’t have an effect until the cause has arrived,” Enoch said, nodding. “And causes can only travel so fast.”
“I’m not entirely sure,” he admitted. “But I’m done here. I did what I was sent to do.” The golden light grew until it was all she could see, and his voice was heard no more.
