I have caught on by now that I clearly live in a satire universe constructed to mirror a perfectly plausible dystopia but in ways that make it seem like there absolutely must be a trickster god of this simulation who expresses all the violence, suffering and brutal incongruities of a less artistic reality in absolutely painful amounts of sarcasm within the simulation I inhabit. There is too much deus ex machina for it to be coincidences... but the dues ex machina never seems to be employed to stop the shockingly evil people, rather it seems to be utterly and monomanically focused on making sure the punchline of the the joke hits with style which just feels a bit distasteful if you ask me even if we are all simulated beings (still beings technically, what does it matter?) but that is a seperate tangent...

I only ask that the poetry be a bit better concealed than this? It is disorienting like one is being spun around like a top by the entire universe.

[–] resipsaloquitur@lemmy.world 3 points 1 day ago

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