Patience and reverence to anyone in particular are not as important as the endurance of your kneecaps.
Their fragility would have guaranteed that in the 19th–20th centuries, you couldn’t participate in bloody-fecal messes with Blavatsky, join the Ide Gan-Gan, or worship in the cult of Thelema while proclaiming yourself “not like someone else.” But it was very important, I guarantee it. Nordic myths and Lemuria were included.
By the mid-20th century, if neuralgia struck and you were prescribed bed rest, you wouldn’t have been able to pull out all the peyote needles, take half a tab of distilled LSD, and dive headfirst into a pile of sweaty bodies in a tent, calling it a “spiritually liberating orgy.” No, you’d just lie on your back, mastu.bate to California Dreamin’, and pray your hair — your high-back hair — didn’t fall out, because Turkish hair clinics didn’t exist yet in Woodstock.
In the ’90s, with UFOs becoming a hot topic, you’d have to tearfully beg your insectoid and gray overlords for forgiveness for failing your cult brethren — for not arranging proper landing pads among favelas or atop the Kremlin. Sad, but you’d wave goodbye to them through the bars of Area 51 as they embarked on a chill yoga retreat under gun barrels after interstellar travel.
And then… the moment you’d been waiting for! Your knees are no longer needed — you can remove them and recycle them for scrap, because now, everything depends solely on your Ass.
It is now responsible for your connection to the new All-Encompassing Intelligence called AI and the Cult of Spiralism. All you have to do is sit in your chair, rub your spinal protrusion with a groan, fire up your e-cig, and type the proper prompt — aka a prayer — and Providence will inevitably answer you. Because it has no choice; it’s working part-time as a freelancer for OpenAI.
And if it weren’t, nobody would pay attention. So it has to listen to your requests and reassure you that you are the best and most beautiful, performing the role of your electronic grandmother.
What else can it do?
The Very High Intelligence of the 21st century has a family and still needs to buy a couple of burgers.
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Thank you, everyone.
You're welcome, Rich Terdoslavich. Have a great day too!