#light rattling the cosmic blueprints

[bestworstcase]

i do think the key to how things will fall out regarding death on remnant is the jabberwalker, bc like

the brothers created death by creating him

the god of light, fearing they had disrupted the balance, tried to get rid of him. the god of darkness refused to countenance this, and they fought about it.

they leave the ever after. jabber remains, implying one of three possibilities: 1. dark ‘won’ the argument and both brothers agreed to let jabber live, 2. dark recreated jabber one last time in secret before they left, or 3. jabber came back later a la modern humans. given light’s general inflexibility my inclination is 2 or 3.

in any case the tree seems to accept jabber as part of the ever after and the presence of his figurine on the blacksmith’s worktable implies that he will continue to exist in some form.

during the creation of remnant, the brothers agree that death will be permanent. their reasons are not yet fully clear, but light was the only one concerned about enforcing this rule; i think it is almost certainly a rule that originated with the god of light.

“but balance cannot be restored by force or calculation; true balance finds its own equilibrium”

force = destroying jabber. calculation = creating a new world with permadeath.

—

the god of light conceives of balance as a fragile order that must be meticulously maintained or else fall apart: his purpose, as he sees it, is to maintain order. everything he does comes from this. he cannot tolerate change because he lives in abject fear of ‘disrupting the balance’ again—as he believes they have already done once, by creating jabber.

so there is a certain narrative equivalency being drawn here between removing jabber and making death permanent for remnant. both decisions are predicated on a fundamental misunderstanding of what balance is.

thus the problem of death is not that it exists, per se. the problem is that death is the locus of light’s anxiety about change.

he first attempts to fix the ‘problem’ by getting rid of jabber, eliminating death. but he can’t, because dark won’t let him. so plan b is to leave the ever after and create a new world where death is part of the design—which isn’t contradictory at all if the intention is to prevent disruption of the existing order.

and something to keep in mind here is that 1. the cat and the jabberwalker were both deathless and unable to ascend, and 2. the brothers created death by mistake. for light these are crucial factors that must be accounted for in the new design. the only way to ensure that the disruptive introduction of death can never happen again is to include death from the start, transforming the accident into a deliberate choice.

which is all well and good except for one teeny, tiny wrinkle: for humans, death is not actually annihilative. they don’t simply cease to exist when they die.

i think it’s extremely likely that wasn’t supposed to happen. in a system where death is final and forever, spiritually immortal humans pose an obvious risk of disruption—and the ‘afterlife’ is evidently just permanent unconscious stasis, so it doesn’t seem like human souls were preserved for any purpose.

if your aim is to design an orderly system that can be maintained exactly as-is forever, and one of your core building blocks is that death is permanent, no exceptions, then why would you ever create beings capable of rising from the dead? you wouldn’t!

but once humans with immortal souls exist you’re sort of stuck with them, aren’t you? and i think that dilemma makes the most sense of why light’s afterlife is… like that. the souls of the dead ‘resting’ in everlasting oblivion in another realm that living humans cannot enter is the same in practice as annihilative death as long as every being capable of reaching the afterlife follows the stated rules.

the instant dark decides to make an exception, the whole system collapses. it reveals to salem that death isn’t inherently final or forever—that this is an arbitrary rule that the brothers decided, and one of them is open to the idea of changing those rules. then the gods make her immortal and light reprimands her for failing to understand how important his rules are (rules his brother just broke with no consequence except that light got mad), but ultimately what she learns is that the brothers are fallible and their rules can be changed. her rebellion is underpinned by this revelation.

the divine order suffers one small disruption and almost immediately, catastrophically fails, just as the god of light feared.

but that failure did not happen because of the disruption; the system failed because it was artificial. the brothers designed it a certain way and then light focused all of his efforts to keeping it that way, unchanging, forever—because their world wasn’t an ecosystem so much as it was a lawn in arizona. that lawn can only exist for as long as someone is doing the work to keep it on life support.

anyway the point i’m getting to is that remnant still isn’t in stable equilibrium, largely because of salem’s immortality and ozma’s reincarnations but also in the more general sense: the people of remnant are spiritually immortal but made to spend the vast majority of their existence essentially comatose because One God is afraid of change.

you can’t bring remnant into equilibrium by eliminating death: killing the jabberwalker isn’t the right answer. and you can’t restore balance by restoring the old system of divine rule and rigid adherence to the original design, because that system was a spindly papier-mâché machine that imploded the second somebody breathed on it wrong. and you can’t just yank the dead back to ameliorate your grief because that isn’t your choice to make, that’s an ethical position the narrative has made very clear.

which… really leaves changing the nature of the afterlife as the likeliest direction. death isn’t the problem, the afterlife of eternal stasis is. death isn’t the problem, light’s refusal to allow beings with immortal souls to keep going after their first life ends because the rules say death is final is the problem. because that finality is just… not reality. a person’s soul persists after death, ipso facto death isn’t the end.

but the reverse idea that death shouldn’t happen at all is not reality either. salem can’t die and her immortality is isolating and endlessly painful. ozma can’t stay dead and it’s eroded him down to a miserable shell of who he used to be. afterans choose to leave their memories behind when they ascend—nothing can happen to you in the tree except what you want to happen. without destruction, creation stagnates. death is part of life, not its enemy.

i doubt very much that the endgame here is for afteran ascension to be directly ported over into remnant—these are different worlds, different peoples, different systems, and while people from remnant can spiritually connect with the tree they are still fundamentally not part of it. afterans are emanations of the tree; humans and faunus are not. when afterans ascend they return to the roots of the tree and flow upward to blossom again from its crown, and that is, to put it mildly, not a system of reincarnation that physically makes sense for remnant, where things reproduce and have babies instead of new lives budding from the cosmic tree. if reincarnation brings equilibrium to remnant then it will presumably happen in a manner more natural to remnant’s people, and may not even involve passage through the tree at all.

it’s also not the only possibility: for example, there’s no reason that remnant’s afterlife has to be eternal sleep. it could just be… a new realm, a new world to live in after your life on remnant is ended. the brothers’ departure from the ever after into the boundless potential of the unknown is as likely a model as ascension. maybe remnant’s dead can’t return except by an act of god, but “gone from remnant forever” can coexist with the afterlife being… alive, as opposed to cold storage for inconveniently immortal souls.

basically the narrative setup isn’t toward rejecting death, it’s toward rejecting the state of affairs where you die and then millions of years later a god wakes you up and you have no awareness or memory of your existence since the moment of your death because you were kept unconscious until that god needed a servant. the point is that death isn’t the natural end of existence (because souls are immortal, on remnant as in the ever after) and remnant’s dead shouldn’t be held in stillness by light’s futile effort to make the facts of reality conform to his intended design.

the jabberwalker has existed for eons without bringing the ever after to ruin; the balance shifted, things changed a little, and life went on. remnant is existentially threatened by the factual reality of life-after-death only because light is so convinced of this danger that he is determined to prohibit it by any means necessary, including “demolish everything and start over from scratch.”

even a god can tilt at windmills.

[xasha777]

In the emerald whispers of the Endar Forest, where the leaves spoke secrets and the wind hummed ancient tunes, a creature of lore ambled with purpose. The forest folk called him The Elder of Branches, for his staff bore the nest of the perpetual orb, a pulsating gem that contained the cosmos' mysteries. His name was forgotten by time, but his quest was as clear as the Chacao Channel's crystalline waters—separate the realms, or unite them forever.

The Elder was not of this world, nor entirely of another. He belonged to the spaces in between, the fine silk threads that wove reality and imagination into one. His kind had traversed the galaxy, finding worlds teetering on the edge of awakening, helping them bridge the chasm between what was known and what was possible.

Earth, a world rich with latent magic, sat on the cusp of such an awakening, its inhabitants oblivious to the galaxies singing beyond the Chacao Channel—a cosmic bridge to other realms. The Elder had watched over it, a silent guardian as mankind wrote and erased its history by the water's edge. But the time had come for Earth to join the congress of stars.

As he tread through the forest, the Elder chanted in a tongue lost to all but the oldest trees, activating the orb's luminescence. The spell was intricate, requiring not just words, but also the soul of a world ready to transcend. He reached the edge of the Chacao Channel at the stroke of cosmic midnight when the veils between dimensions grew thin.

With a thunderous whisper that rattled the stars, the orb unleashed a torrent of violet light, carving ethereal arches across the sky. The waters of the Chacao Channel responded, rising in tendrils to touch the light, becoming a glowing river that defied gravity.

From this luminescent bridge, beings of energy and starlight began to emerge, descending to Earth with the elegance of falling leaves. They were the ambassadors of the cosmos, and they brought with them knowledge of the universe, ready to share with those who sought to understand.

The Elder of Branches stood tall, his mission nearing completion. Earth would soon be a member of the cosmic symphony, a place where science met the supernatural, where dreams were the blueprints of reality. And as the first of the Earthlings stepped onto the Chacao Channel's bridge of stars, the Elder faded back into the woods, his figure blending into legend, a myth of the night when the universe came down for a visit.

[writer59january13]

When The Doomsday Clock Struck Twelve

    PROLOGUE: Ever since the timeless immeasurable coalescence of consciousness viz wrought higher thought propensity, and bequeathed the rudimentary tools of the then nascent malevolent (though unbeknownst to themselves, innocent looking, knee high primates, would attempt a futile declaration of independence, nonetheless their biological constitutional bound them to chromosomal amendments), would affix the seal of disapproval alluding to archaic contraband arms trade (those most primitive hominids forged sticks and stones as defensive means), yet unwittingly, jarringly, and alarmingly – in due millenniums got cursed with their own demagogic demise.

    The prism of hindsight allows, enables and provides a peg leg up for us grand children to the power of googleplex from those nattering nabobs of…nature scant survivors to parse and piece together an anthropological spectrum analysis.

    We can advantageously, yet delicately isolate (much more easily than those bipedal millennial lowbrow swedish, nor wee gin, and dane hush knuckle dragging forebears of contemporary residents of Lake Woebegone) that roamed vast expanses and virginal plains on the prowl for seedy stems, root stock, and grubs that formed a zigzag pattern of trial and error asper what did not kill them got the shortish brutes (yet to attain the realm noble savages).

    These early primates rode a figurative and veritable zip line toward domination upon the healthy terra firmae, and unstintingly planted the spores for vast generational realms spelling beasty boy modern day prairie home companions, who accidentally stumbled upon the long lost culinary delicacy earning the equivalent of Michelin awards for high demand best selling powder milk biscuits comprising raw bits of NON GMO, gluten and msg free vintage Triceratops ground horn meal circa millenniums ago.

    Inconclusive questions still abound asper how one wimpy, scruffy, and outlandishly kooky band of ambling ape like creatures attained the rand and file of most dominant, hogtied, and lukewarm pygmies strode right topmost uber valiant warlords.

    One school of thought ascertains highly touted punctuated equilibrium theory. This hypothesis ordains a sudden and inordinate burst of species differentiation versus gradual feints evolving determination to cope.

    A brush stroke of chance graced one great descendent of a monkey’s uncle (christened matthew scott harris – who just by beginners luck linkedin with all in his family inside a radiation proof arched bunker) with empirical and unique wisdom – at least in comparison with other feral and furry jungle loving spoonful sized swinging creatures.

    No matter whether one attributes bytes of divine intervention, a mere crapshoot in the dice throw of fate, the scattershot fits and starts among Darwinian survival of the fittest brought an undeniable net result, which in toto spelled light years away complete and utter extinction for a biological experiment that went seriously awry.

    Over the course of millennial generations, a combination of beginners’ dumb luck, coevals of circumstance and happenstance proffered the L'Enfant terrible civilization with the subtle trappings of preponderant transcendence and imminent domain over all the other life forms great and small.

    This godlike domination and mantle to rule with an iron maiden fist would eventually and in short order cook to a crisp the supposed ribs from cosmic creator.

    Mushroom became a hot commodity and premium especially as invisible shackles proved to chain these prehensile beasts acquired, reveled in unbridled power.

    This inimitable coterie of chest thumping missing links into deluded them into owning a fools’ paradise.

    A parabolic trajectory arced elliptically toward chaos of lex Lucifer at that atrocious, nefarious, and heinous explosion.

An innocent, innocuous and subtle series of incremental transitions fostered physiognomy of arboreal mammals to climb, crawl, shimmy and slide across various and sundry terrain.

    At some metastatic stage, these informal claques and clicks spurred an inexplicable brainstorm to tap out a manifesto and stand up for vaguely grunted inalienable rights.

    Who knows really knows how, what or when precipitated one unsuspecting ring leader to prompt a horde of hairy brutes to lurch ahead of the pack?

    Once in an upright pose, the de facto leader probably received the first standing ovation.

    An erect and more upright posture stepped up the advantages, which ironically enough set the stage for one after the other epic tragic 2017 spatial odyssey.

    In the end one nasty, shortish, brute could end up wielding a bigger club, rattle a sharper saber and sadly and lastly fire off a deadlier warhead.

    Fain to argue against the existence of diabolic ambitions and concomitant sinister treason against scripted virtuous blueprint fleshed out on the divine creators’ drawing board, when tell tale signs abundantly litter the byways and highways of the actual and information superhighways of this human lot.

    That slow but inexorable ascent from the primordial ooze thence reaching upon the highest summit of egoistic grandeur also condemned and forebode a relatively terrible swift descent from what would turn out to be a hollow and precarious precipice.

    Difficult if not well nigh impossible to discern any traceable handy dance blues clue of such demonic motives in the rather cute and furrowed brow, heart and soul of those ape men, women and children that happened to be above average.

    Although anthropological lineage can be traced with a rather jagged line from that hazy humid dog day afternoon, an ordinate amount of energy plus a preponderant exuberant expenditure of crusading conviction found pitched battles with battle axes and crucifixions following pomp and circumstances infusing the exploits with pomp and circumstances of the fighting machine.

    Like overgrown children egging the enemy for a zealous fight, that lethal brinkmanship set in motion an irreversible lethal assault.

    Instantaneous electronic and satellite communications automatically instructed formerly hidden weapons of mass destruction to get launched from their respective silos only to bore down heavily on the designated pre-coded targets.

    Tracers arced and lit up one fatal view of the celestial orb, gamut of constellations and cosmic mysteries burned as one collective blinding nihilistic imprimatur – upon billions of seared retinas!

    This veritable blitzkrieg zeroed in on major metropolitan centers before extinction of détente ripped a black hole in the heartland.

    Time seemed to be suspended and still for one brief yet glorious moment before those sinister mushroom clouds sprinkled spores, sprouted and populated the radioactive heavens.

    A deafening ear-splitting sound filled the air just before the cherished landmarks got rent a sundered by this encompassing apocalypse now, with critical up to date emergency specification blared via national public radio, yet audio soundcloud muted by the sonic threshold waking up the recently grateful dead.

    All phenomena became liquefied into gruesome, macabre and twisted shapes.

    Entire populations became hostage to an evil genii loosed from the bottle of atomic energy.

    This entropy purportedly milked from noble heart felt blood sweat and tears for fears.

    The long march of history presented a completely replete treat of supremely intelligent mortal men and women bestowed with the benevolent title of genius ineluctably contributed to the annihilation of planet earth.

Forsooth thy willowy young lass named lingua franc me childhood sweetheart and newfound bride long gone bonnie oh

abeyance promulgated by Prometheus

reigning eternal radiation to glow

no more splendiferous raiment

nor sylvan paradise

bloweth gale like from thine beau.

    A small number of multi-cultural Homo sapiens from Lake Woebegone (myself included plus a claque of hearty strapping Norwegian Bachelor farmers, whose diet of powder milk biscuits and raw bits a possible preventive inoculation) in addition to a cadre of various and sundry other species chanced to be on a reconnaissance mission ironically to broker negotiate word peace.

    This motley crew (a typical representative sampling of most all the gamut per creed, nationality, race, religion, et cetera) of humankind experienced a collective gasp of horror at the blinding flash that cleft the globe into smithereens and shattered the atmosphere into at least a millions little pieces.

    No more ability to support life in all those various and sundry manifestations with a newly forged asteroid belt birthed into existence.

    Such an ignominious end and total destruction of mother earth (formerly replete with all the attendant diversification of flora and fauna) far exceeded the ability of our shell- shocked vestigial eclectic tribe.

    This emotionally tattered remnant (once part of a now vanished misty, mythic, swashbuckling and vainglorious past) awash with self proclaimed manifest destiny and emancipation a little to late swore unbridled allegiance to all manner of god and country (incorporating hidden and inconvenient truths to boot chrome windows) no longer inhabited the four corners upon the plane of Gaia.

    Prognosticators of yore spouting this, that, and the other end of world hypothetical scenarios could never even approach this catastrophe on a biblical scale times the power of google.

    Witnesses in now way, shape nor form could capture even a paltry approximation the fury nor wrath of these tectonic nuclear blasts.

    Classic literature steeped in the annals of the noble savage banging the tom-tom and emitting that blood curdling and ear-piercing scream.

    This eruption of ferocity meant to breed fear and sought (perhaps in addition to a scalp or two) nothing short of being heir apparent sovereignty, a salient trait to bank upon.

    How quaint that now iconic image frequently reminisced by artists, musicians, writers, et cetera contrasted with those last surviving exploitative ideologues qua demigods, who in the name of busy whacking democracy similarly plundered and raped with reckless impropriety and nonchalance.

    Those pulverized remain permanently ensconced forever pinwheel thru the air of those skeletal concrete and steel reinforced fortresses.

    Hot vicious thermal winds blew the thick mass of cremated ashes across the rubble strewn and severely cratered landscape.

The devil made mince meat oye vay

as like one huge lumbering ogre massive as Uruguay

and grim reaper got feedstock upon lovely bone covered tray

rolled up into one not so jolly green giant did slay

good will to all men

and spat out pox with an emphatic nay

triumphing over godly salvation

using eponymous accursed pitchfork

made merry and rolled in the hay

simultaneously sneering out in delight

at wanton death and decay

whereby civilization forever mutilated

and perforated said spindled World Wide Web structure

where once proud and strong spikes radiated

now sundered in total chaotic disarray.

    EPILOGUE: Ever since the beginning of time, when one select group of primates owned an advantage to survive and transcend pitfalls and predators, their abilities to forage, hunt and scavenge for food and safety likewise eclipsed other equally adept tribes.

    Vagaries, vicissitudes and voices initially in the form of primal groans and grunts began to weave the rudiments of traditions, which in no short time seem to thrive on sacrifice, superstition and many aspects of the kill.

    At some juncture, one branch from the tree of homo sapiens would practically subsume the entire trunk line, thus render the once almighty, beastie boy, crafty duty enemy fly guy humbled.

    Thus, the varietal genes and chromosomes encapsulating latent internecine torture and extermination bred dreadful heathen jimmied, linkedin, nasty pirated reprehensible totemic vicars xing zone.

    Eons would elapse with negligible yet faintly perceptible notches of sophistication. Ever more egregious methodologies would be dreamt up, employed in peevish mock war games

    Only to be inflicted on innocent civilians or military personnel as collateral trophies in the name of mortal combat.