The Stygian Wholesto

When Nietzsche said, "God is dead," he meant it only in the sense of the constant retrocirculation of life energy. In the words of modern-day literary critic and fellow Stygian contributor Friedrich Kurt Gnothin, "Life feeds on life, which [drives] descriptive needs in the material need for the deprivation of goods which causes social exclusions." Even though God may have died, God has died over and over and over--the feeding of Life on itself. The "unfortunate" outcome of this, however, is that, as Gnothin tells us, this cycle of life creates a sense of Nietzschean isolation. In death and reincarnation, God is always excluded socially. God exists apart from us, the living; therefore, God is, in essence, dead. This binarization drives the Universe. Social exclusions become the social norm--especially for God.

People, on the other hand, rely on the social norm. We are excluded least when we participate in the social norm. We learn from each other by accepting social norms. In quasi-mitochondriastic terms, the energy of life reveals itself through social exclusions. The energy of the churning universe drives itself from within. With no external source, the universe powers itself--the only perpetual motion machine in existence, precisely because it is existence. Within the energetic aether of the universe, our world reveals its own energy through literary works--among other artistic media.

This literary energizing of the text makes us step back from the page and look down at what the author and the universe have both created. Without the universe, there is no author; and without the author, there is no universe to shape. In binarizational terms, neither one is anything. The energy of the universe--evident via the energy of the text--never stops churning, and therefore never has a beginning point for its own retrocirculation. In continuing to be, it has no birth that we know.

Then how do we know it to be? How do we know we are not trapped in some conglomerate nerual network of minds? The Matrix has made us all aware of the possibility that perhaps this reality does not exist. We all question the world as it is--or rather, as we think it is. We can say mostly for certain that this life is not the end-all dimension. Being isolated from us through social exclusions, God is the obvious creator of the universe--most similar to the Architect character in The Matrix. And truly God is an outstanding architect to construct such a clever structure of reality for us to so completely fall into the pitfall of whether or not our reality exists. Still, we feel the energy of our pseudo-reality so strongly at times that, just as God has planned, we trick ourselves into thinking reality is real. So how do we know we are part of some grand computer program?

Because of the constant retrocirculation in the universe, energy is constantly a-flow. Therefore, we should feel this energy at all times. But we do not. By turning to literature, and other mediated arts, we can confirm this fact that only sometimes do we feel the true energy of life come through. As authors of the universe, authors channel the energy of the real existence, but only at occasional moments within the art form does the author so completely translate the energy of the true universe. We feel these moments as inebriations in the text. Of course, without these inebriations, the text would exist only in its standard, God-made state from start to finish. It is these inebriations, these moments where the text makes the reader stagger, that bring to light the energy of the universe.

We are all readers of this life. We read to understand this life, but only by reading with an inebriated eye can we truly understand both this life and its binarization to the one beyond.