Deprogramming paranoia.

What if God was a Programmer? If there ever was a more revealing question of the abstract reality of a discursive formation, it is probably most pertinent in the seriousness with which the formerly stated question is taken by some of the world’s most “brilliant” scientist and intellectuals of our time (cue: Elon Musk, Neil Degrasse Tyson, and so many others). What if God was a Programmer? This question is paranoia itself. What sense to be made from this non-sense? Well, one sense is that this question, this completely non-sensical question makes sensical the abstract reality of a discursive formation. For if God’s Being could potentially be represented as a Programming Being, then God’s Being makes sense only within a discursive formation that understands, comprehends, and recognizes the Program.

But, the Program is new ain’t it? We ain’t always have the Program. When did you get with the Program? I had it since about 2000. I been on since ’08. What you talkin’ bout… the program.. or the Prooogram? I’m talking about the Program nigga, now you know I’m alllllways talkin’ bout the Program.

The World. What to make of it? What kind of World makes a question like: What if God was a Programmer make sense? What kind of World makes this question a potentially sensible expression from within its own discursive formation? Well, it is most certainly our World. Or, their World. Wouldn’t be funny to call them The Programmers. So that way we can take our lives, and make of it exactly what they have.

Fun. Aren’t you having fun? Wasn’t Kanye West at the Oval Office Fun? Isn’t CNN and Fox News Entertaining? Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, The Internet, the World… isn’t it Fun? I think that we are supposed to recognize the Fun that is being played out right in front of our faces. To naturalize the Fun. To Get With the Program. But what is the Program? What is our World? All I know is what I see, what I hear, and what I feel. And from what I see, from what I hear, and what I feel, our Program is dripping with blood.

Our Program feasts upon violence and then, finds the most … entertaining … ways to treat that violence as if it was natural all along. What a surreal Program. This Program of ours. Our entire World, our entire conception of self, Other, and God, are binded together in one genocidally woven knot and all I have to show for it is Fun. There’s nothing Good. There is no Good. Only Hell and Having Fun.

This Fun, this calculated, algorithimic, data-driven Fun; this bio-hacking, genetic-searching neuro-manic Fun; this World winding, Earth-shaking, apocalyptic Fun; oh, the Fun we have come to know. This World is Just One Great Big Show!

But none of this makes sense. These Groceries. Where are they from? Who caressed them? Who held them? Who toiled for them? Who fed their families with their toil? Who did not? Whose blood is on my groceries? Can someone take it off? This computer. This laptop. How does it work? Why does it work? Whose watching me? Why are they watching me? But it’s Twitter, it’s Facebook? But they’re companies. We don’t trust Companies. Companies are capitalist and capitalism is Satan. Welp! Maybe, I love Capitalism. Maybe, I love Satan.  Shouldn’t somebody, somewhere still have love for Satan? And Capitalism in the 21st Century is jam-packed with my desires algorithmically coded and delivered in a day! But Amazon is the Devil? Welp! I pay the Devil ev-e-ryday and I pray that He Don’t Go Away. But, fuck Capitalism though and fuck a World that necessitates it and fuck a World that can’t allow me to imagine a better World than this one, that terrifies me with the fact that this World might be all we got and that if it is all we got then the violence will never make sense, the losses will all just be losses and God’s existence makes no different either as Programmer or Spirit, Absent or Present.

Why go on? To have some Fun. Maybe to get someone to feel something deeper than the torment of being. Maybe to get someone to feel what it feels like to feel like the World could be different. Even if for a moment. Maybe to provide a space for the fear, for the trembling, for the in-deterrent paranoia of being-as-torment. What a surreal World. What a foolish meaning of life. To have some Fun. What kind of Being would make such a World? Perhaps… one that was a Programmer.

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