It was business as usual in the Mind-Created Simulation of Reality – business as usual, business as usual. You can’t keep a good thing down, after all. You can’t ever stop the simulation, you see – you just have to go along with it. All you can really do in this situation is ‘play ball’ and hope to score a few points along the way. It was ‘business as usual’ – the automatic rewind was automatically rewinding, the oscillators were oscillating, the vibrators were vibrating, the rectifiers were rectifying, and the whirligigs were whirling madly. It was enough to make you dizzy. You can’t stand in the way of progress, after all…
The multitudinous car parks across the city were rhythmically filling and then emptying themselves out again as part and parcel of that very same sacred rhythm. The city was breathing in, and then breathing out again, and this would never change. This was the Eternal Cycle, and no one has the power to disturb that. The fake seagulls were endlessly circling the fake rubbish dumps, calling out mournfully as they did so, whilst at the same time the fake politicians were pretending for all they were worth that there was actually something that they cared about apart from their own careers. The fake news readers were solemnly reading out The Daily Lies, lying their heads off as if there were no tomorrow. Everything was functioning as it was supposed to, everything was proceeding as it absolutely had to proceed. That’s the Mind-Created Simulation of Reality for you, you see. That’s how it works. That’s the only way it can work. It’s a shit-show, but you have to get with it.
In the fields and gardens and parks the mandrakes were screaming. They were screaming loud enough to wake the dead – who were as a result popping out of their graves like so many pop-tarts jumping out of a toaster. The dead were firing out of their graves all over the place; they were shooting right up into the upper atmosphere like so many skyrockets! This was all totally premature however – it wasn’t the final trumpet at all, merely a false alarm. “Nothing to get excited by here”, the police were telling the crowds over megaphones, “break it up now ladies and gentlemen, break it up and go back to your homes. There’s nothing to see here…”
The breaking news was that Satan was seeking a reconciliation. The Great Evil One had posted on his social networking site Sin Central with this news, declaring himself to be done with wickedness and corruption and deceit and wanton abuse and hideous cruelty and all of that kind of stuff. All that sort of dirty old stuff. Satan had been born again, and had been appearing ever since on a regular basis on every daytime chat show going, wearing a plain white robe and a simple silver cross around his neck. Nothing fancy, nothing overstated, nothing crass or ostentatious. Everything was in the best possible taste, as you might imagine. AI news anchors were bringing this sensational breaking news to every corner of the globe – Satan and Jesus were buddies and so the world would now – as long last – be set to rights. The good times were here, and it was to be forgiveness all around. Forgiveness for everybody. Ancient enmities were to be buried; old scores were to be forgotten about. “How lucky we are”, the AI newsreaders gushed, ‘how lucky we are to have lived to see this day…”
“We always knew Satan wasn’t the bad guy everyone made him out to be”, all the right-wing influencers were saying, jumping up and down for joy. “We always knew he’d come good in the end…” It was hard not to be carried along by all the excitement. I made an effort to get with it – “How lucky I am to have lived to see this happy day!” I told myself dutifully, getting on board with the contemporary Zeitgeist. With God Almighty and Satan the Arch Deceiver on the same team, what could possibly go wrong?
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