The simulator will have to get up pretty early in the morning to catch me out, I said grandly, but the simulator had already simulated the morning, me getting up in the morning, and me coming out with this jackass comment of mine. The simulator will have to get up pretty damn early in the morning to catch me out, I sneered, but the simulator was simulating me saying this again, for the ten thousandth time, just for a laugh. Let no one say that the simulator doesn’t have a sense of humour – that’s why it stimulates everything, just so that it can have a laugh! The simulator simulates everything – it is simulating me saying this, that’s the kind of sense of humour it has. Although some would say that the simulator has no sense of humour; they would say that all it has is an infinite resource of pure undiluted malice – the type of malice that, if you encountered it in a dream, you would wake up deeply traumatised. The simulator simulates it all, the simulator simulates it all. They used to say that the winner takes it all but that isn’t true! The winner doesn’t take it all, that’s the lie that we’ve all been brought up on. The right answer is that the simulator simulates it all. We don’t get to win anything when we win – all we get is a simulation of what we think we are going to win, all we get is a poor copy of what we think we going to win. The simulator simulates it all, every last little bit of it. As soon as we think of something the simulator simulates it – it provides us with instant gratification, but of the most trivial type imaginable. Instantaneous satisfaction, that’s winning in a nutshell, isn’t it? Oh look – I won. Oh look, I won – how great. Oh great I won. How wonderful. Let’s win again real soon. It doesn’t matter how early in the morning I get up – the simulator gets there first! It stimulates the morning and it simulates me coming out with all this ridiculous bullshit. No matter what we aspire to, the simulator gets there first. It simulates either our success or our failure in this matter; it gets there first every time. Everything we value we lose. Everything we value we lose. It simulates a third rate copy for us. the simulator degrades the whole of reality because that is what it does – it’s The Degrader! You might as well hand over everything you love to The Degrader because it’s going to get there ahead of you anyway. It’s already there, in fact. We’re just not fast enough, you see. We’re slow and lumbering; we are all caught up in all our perennial nonsense. We’re too attached to our own preposterous bullshit. We’re too encumbered with our own terrible nonsense to ever stand a chance, you could say. We’re laden down with it. Our bellies are scraping off the floor. The simulated floor, that is. We’re not as smart as we think. We are just the simulator’s sad gimps. We’re just the sad and dismally decrepit simulations of ourselves…
