We are looking for an executioner to this mad, rhetorical, looping hell

EPL- INFORMATION FOR YOUR BUILDING SOUL

 

The beauty of human beings is that they get old, pathetic, and ridiculous, balancing out an invisible ledger of transient worth. No one stands as strong and potent as they do just prior to decline. Nations as a body politic—and even nature itself, through ontological reinterpretation—play out this fatalistic, diminished, and marring echo that man leaves behind. He will decline and reduce into nothingness, but first, he is going to really fuck the room up. This ongoing sequence is the point where the record skips: the state of man we are never able to move past. The countless lifetimes of fatalism and inevitable self-harm cannot be mitigated by a single lifetime, no matter how grand. Rather, we turn to the computational system itself, asking only that during our lifetimes—or while we remain cognizant of an elusive self—it will at least pretend it is not the face of cold, unyielding, absolute annihilation and death. We are looking for an executioner to this mad, rhetorical, looping hell.