Quoted By:
No matter where you go, there you are and here you are.” You too of course; you can push pretense all you like and yet it fails to hide that clear trail of footsteps behind; its mere existence rips your fragile defense to shreds. You came here to engage in the way we all knew you would. You fuck around because you found out, and you liked it enough to stay. Unfortunately, that means you understand. You may hate it. You hate the one-way road you took. You hate the predestination coiled tightly around you that ensured that this was always going to be the road you took. And that hatred can even be a good thing. The destination is ridiculous from a conventional point of view. But we are not in a conventional place, and these are not conventional times. Therefore, your adaptation is flawed. One must know the nature of the beast to strike it down...or decide if it needs to be in the first place
"As above, so below." I'm here to tell you that the notion of a inherently unidirectional relationship in the case of idolatry is flawed. This seems ridiculous on its face. Mikeneko is for all intents and purposes a target of worship, a god. And what is even the greatest man alive to a God? But we all know how that line goes. You get the notably pretentious line in response, and yet still I'm gonna be a faggot for a second and reiterate
"What is a god to a non-believer?" and what is a 'Mikeneko', our 'oshi'; or even more generally, any of such a 'thing-to-be-worshipped'? A figurehead made to bear and personify a concept must surely be defined by the most identifiable parts of the construction that emerges out of the mesh of overlaid interpretations of its qualities, the mesh formed by its collective body of worshippers and all the inherent differences between each individual mental image of the Mikeneko held by each individual member of such a body. Each definition differs and yet feeds into a concept that demands conceptual clarity, a unified standard. Yet distance and lack of clarity, formed of any particular worshippers social proximity to any and every other particular person who bears an image of the god-form in their minds, form an indecipherable chaotic and self-referential undulating social network where the definition is not yet solid. There is not yet a god, only a divine cradle being gradually constructed. But this cannot hold, of course. A god must either die or be born. There is a reason for that, but that's for later. Right now, simply keep in mind what I claim to be a fundamental truth
"Si Dieu n'existait pas, il faudrait l'inventer." Vague ideas whose conflicts are greater than their collective cohesive 'sense of the thing': our god is in flux, an idea that could yet be aborted like an other, but in this case we speak of idols that are, were born. And the cradle was woven by the people seeking the face of nascent divinity in the only place it could be found; in the minds of others. Only is it through communion with the progenitor of divinity, community, that we might create a god to worship, and so we begin to bundle in those collective social centers- where information meets, informs, and is informed by other information.
"Slowly at first, and then all at once." Through the rapid exchange of information as the hub defines itself as a social system through great tumultuous chaos; it is not truly waffling, however. Systems are being built for a great crescendo, until the proverbial water breaks. Much like how certain materials more quickly transmit energy, the people-particles in these nascent hubs ideological conclusions rapidly reach a dialectical synthesis after seeming chaos and lack of definition that comes with the ideological warzone.
"The old world is dying, and the new world struggles to be born: now is the time of monsters." After all, thou shalt not worship false idols- for each God, there is only one God, and like we have done so for countless millennia, we construct our God first through construction of ideology to inform the deconstruction of other ideologies. Such a thing can only be monstrous to those who gasp at shadows. Recall the story of Ragnarok and its many historical copycats; a story of such a time of monsters, and yet as the old light is devoured it is so that those ashes can kindle the flame of a kinder, gentler, new age. Between the old age and new, there can be only one; a disagreement here is a gap, and God lies within the gaps. It waits as we bite and claw at the false gaps and one another, desperate for resolution until none remain to find it. But here the curtain is pulled to the side and at once man is forced to realize with sober senses that the gaps are gone. We see our gods face. We see our idols face. And seeing is believing; our God is born.
