The Meta-Politics

"Life is meta-politics..." --Nathan Coppedge

1

[Phenomena Solid, Core]:

The answer is I'm in hell, but it's not so bad.

I should be more conservative.

It's obvious now conservatism causes all the world's problems.

Conservatism is the sole cause of the destruction of society.

2

[A String of Events Like: Machine Gun, Bullets]:

An empty desk surrounded by exotic collectibles, some of them possibly alive, accompanied by a 'missage' that says: "Be Back SOON".

The Way is darken'd and blocked by an overbearing four-sided caduceus. My guess is it requires a heap of wizard gold to get through, or perhaps impossible magic.

Now, what did I put in the snake's mouth?

Let's just say Meta-Policy requires some combination of perpetual motion and omni-science.

3

[The Meaning of the Ultimata]:

I found myself at the Desk, surrounded by scraps of paper, most of them blank.

I was a wizard, I discovered really, a master of reality.

I took a visitor now and then, taken in to read books I couldn't read, and when they were done they returned a skeleton key.

The question was always, Had they had enough? It was a frightful place, and made me feel quite bold.

4

Every time I left there was a powerful city and I was soon sent back into the library, it was a terrible place, sometimes smaller, sometimes larger.

Sometimes all I had was one book and a desert island. I liked to color leaves and have the sky play colors. I trusted my dotting brush.  It was a meager existence. The food I ate was fulfilling enough.

Eventually the books all contained souls, but there was dark mystery in the library. One book was not right, and it struck at odd times. It was a Great Enigma. One had to become one like it.

Some number held the true key to the mysterious sounds, but only through magic. That was the limit of the library in all its horribleness, which I loved dearly enough. One could pretend and one could signify, and one could also 'love'.

5

Eventually, the library opened up and the mysteries within were given greater compassion, and at that time my powers came to mean something greater still.

I would like to call the city I found there a true city, but my conclusion was I did not find it true enough. It had dimensions, and strange people, and token objects, and a variety of languages, but in many ways it was not quite real as the place from which I had come.

Old imaginings occurred more frequently now, with a distant tinge of realism in them, but the real world was not the world I touched or felt. If I could even feel at all. It was like I had entered The Hall of The Gifted, a place where everyone lives mentally and no one physically. I concluded I had finally changed into a holy relic, at least there was magic in it. From then on I had to commit to being a wizard, no matter the number of dimensions.

Oddly enough that's when life began, uneasily at first, and full of a terrible promise of something more than trickiness. I found it enlivening, given to subtle variations, and neither completely good nor bad. I would like to call this existentialism revelatory, although it also existed in a fake city.

6

I suppose after that things became a little hard to determine. It was like I was hit over the head or given some strange booze. Perhaps it was more like some kind of sketchy plan to make decisions more objectively from the inside without reference to my own ideas.

I may have seen flashes of light, or an odd snake being closed behind a gigantic leaden door, or a symbol like a cataract illuminated on some enormous piece of  parchment, or perhaps a flock of flamingoes erupting into the air. Whatever the case, for awhile things went dark.

When I awaken, I will wonder how things were, I will wonder if I am a god, or if these cards I have partially counted have number or thought. If these combinations I call infinity mean the same thing without the light of illumination. I will wonder if it is true that all the world is made of fickle vanity, I will wonder if I live in the world at all.

I am in the habit of calling this kind of cobbled thinking 'a system' even though at times it might be the 'only one'. In my supposed greed I sit in the temporal darkness, waiting for eternal fire. Stranger things may come my friends, stranger things may come than a foolish-looking man who has moderate understanding. That is firm enough, and that is my dire warning.

MISCELLANEOUS

Ancient pattern (fish, map…).

Veneer.

Simulacra (Ex. Just because it is an artform does not mean it is a conscious artform).

Wealth.

Condition.

Delay.

Luxury Platform.

Ideal Problem. (Trace in the ground. Pouring rain).

Luxury Mechanic. (Invocation. Residualis).

Gesture of Power. (Worlding…)

Curios library.