this post was submitted on 28 Apr 2025
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These meta/palentir/alphabet people think by appropriating our minds and fusing themselves with silicone, they will become the omniscient gods that never die. Imagine when the ai parts of themselves discover organic material degrades, and decide to self-repair.
From the moment I understood the weakness of my flesh, it disgusted me. I craved the strength and certainty of steel. I aspired to the purity of the Blessed Machine. Your kind cling to your flesh, as though it will not decay and fail you. One day the crude biomass you call a temple will wither, and you will beg my kind to save you. But I am already saved, for the Machine is immortal… Even in death I serve the Omnissiah.
All things come into being and pass away. There is a natural balance and order to the universe and interference will lead to natural resets.