I just got back from Munich, Germany a few days ago. It’s a very beautiful city, with old churches and full museums and bike lanes that are all up on the sidewalk.
I didn’t have that much time to enjoy it, since I had lots of work to do.
We had to throw a party for Uncle Brian, even though he was dead. No one was very happy about this, but they tried to hide it with alcohol and crazy games.
As games go, chess is pretty boring. The Nameless can test out every move before it happens, and I’m liable to just knock all of the pieces off the board.
I prefer checkers. It has a solution, and if you want to shake things up you can start to turn all of the pieces into royalty.
Like I said, I’m not much for word play or secret meanings. I’m not hiding amazing things in my sentences – Germany is Germany and games are games.
I know that you want some answers, but it’s hard when you don’t even ask the questions. I can see them fully formed in your mind, but you won’t let them out.
For example, one of you wants to know if the Seven Events are tied in any way to the Book Of Revelations. Sure – why not? The kind of world you believe in is the world you get, and the greatest number of thoughts about something wins. The Western world likes to kill their enemies before the final banquet, so I have to live with that.
It sucks, though. I don’t think people really understand what they’ve been praying for all of these years. They’re not very convincing when they say their prayers are the best.
Personally, I really try not to take sides. I’ve just been given two glowing sticks, and I have to guide the plane into the air – doesn’t matter who managed to get a seat.
I guess that was a pretty good metaphor, but I’m not sure. I start to worry about whether it’s really sticks, or swords, and if it’s an airplane, or a rocketship. Then I wonder about how much fuel is needed, and where I’m going to find it, and how expensive the tickets are.
By the time the metaphor is over, I’ve already ruined it with extra attention.
I have a lot of attention. I have the opposite of attention deficit disorder. I have extra attention order. Or disorder. I guess it depends on how you look at it.
That worries you, right? If the ground crew are gossiping or texting when they should be waiving their sticks, then that’s definitely bad. But, what if they can’t stop thinking about how the engines operate, or if the tires are inflated enough for the eventual landing? What if they are so wrapped up in the concept of the last airplane ever, that the just watch it with awe as it takes off and then crashes?
I’m not sure if that part was clear. I’m talking about the universe crashing. I guess that implies that there’s something for it to crash into. Correct!
Not clear enough? The people on the plane are everyone who has ever lived – it’s a really big plane, and you can fit lots of spirits into even the smallest space.
Like the people dancing on the head of a pin. Am I using that phrase right? I have a perspective problem, since I see too much.
Do they make glasses for that – extra perspective disorder? If so, I’d like a few pair, in enough colors that I could wear one color for each day of the week.
That’s an interesting thought that someone had just now. They wanted to know if the week properly starts on Saturday, Sunday, or Monday.
Historically, the winner gets to choose. Since I’m not going to win this time around, you don’t have to worry about that any more. The Nameless doesn’t believe in days or weeks. There’s either going to be one day that lasts forever, or nothing ever again.
Yes, I thought that was funny, too. That’s the way that Gods and computers think. If they think – I’m not too sure about that.
OK, I was lying. Gods don’t think too much because if they do, crazy things happen. Computers don’t think, because people define “thinking” as only what people can do. Instead, computers “compute”. It’s like thinking, only more dangerous.
Lying again. Gods create people and people think about Gods, a lot. Or not at all – it depends. I for one know that I think about people all the time, and I only rarely think about Gods, or computers.
I think that makes me really dangerous, because the more I think about people, and the more their thoughts come to me, the more I tend to believe in what they do.
Of course, I’m technically a person. If you’re a really tall person, you’re still a person. If you’re really mean – still a person. If you’re really powerful – still a person?
Another great thought out there. Someone was wondering why they don’t call super-heroes super-persons? Is it that lots of power is troubling, so they want to make sure there’s a super moral man behind the wheel? At the wheel? Driving or flying? I’m imagining people with big breasts and muscles fighting in the air. You can’t tell apart the heroes from the villains except for the clothes they’re wearing, and how many people they kill.
I would really like to know the kill equation. How many deaths equal a villain? We put away people that just kill one other person, and yet people who order armies around to kill tens of thousands get medals.
I think it’s the whole mob thing. The more people you can get together, the more right you end up being. If you can convince everyone to pray real hard to blow up the world, then everyone will surely be rewarded in the end. I guarantee it.
There’s one thing that always bothers me. It’s that game where you have to stand in front of two doors, two people, two whatever, and one always tells you the truth, and the other always lies.
Who is the person that’s been watching those two things since the beginning of everything, carefully making sure that the liar keeps on lying?
What happens if they switch sides? Or if they both start lying?
Oh, I guess I’m confusing puzzles and games again. I guess it’s all right then. Never mind.
One last question from the audience.
Yes, I really do have a plan. Or a game. It’s like checkers with chess pieces riding along on top of each circle. Think about that while I practice my lying.