Fiction is fact?
And, at the same time, believe nothing – it’s all lies.
Virtual reality is reality, virtual life is life.
We’re all dead.
Half-life is the whole thing, tailing away for ever.
Conspiracy theory is a conspiracy.
With nothing to hold on to, you have already let go.
You just don’t know it yet.
Kill the ducks because ducks fart and their farts can kill your dog.
Man’s best friend.
Kill the dogs, they’re eating your ducks!
Been drinking, popped anything?
Well, yes and no.
Both. And neither. Who needs a dose of unreality.
When nothing is real.
I’m learning – but I know there’s nothing to teach; I understand.
Is this how it happens then, alien invasion?
Conspiracy theory is…
Yes, yes, but it’s also true.
And a pack of lies.
We can hold onto the certainty of the physical sciences can’t we, to materiality?
If you like, but it will do you no good to know two plus two equals four, or that if you jump off a tall building the acceleration due to gravity, g, is approximately nine point eight one metres per second per second.
Or that, if the building is high enough and I fall long enough, then I will reach a terminal velocity.
That’s what we’ll call it!
Our theory that everything is fucked up and that nothing is fucked here, dude.
Our theory that there can be not theory, including our own…
And that all explanations are true – including alien invasion of morality rather than territory.
That we are always already the aliens, and that we are not.
Will we fight, red in tooth and claw, until there are no survivors?
Or will we simply stop caring, stop struggling, stop loving – and hating?
Is that how hope is to be defined for us?