I'm noticing that my inner dialog, though it's still so focused on the war and our battle at hand, we have so clearly already won, our victory against the deep state is already so heavy, so decisive, so crushing, that, each of us, our powerful mental radars, still dumping absolute terawats over the horizon, what then? I can see a small CPU process instantiating in the background of my mind, wondering,OK, after this, what next? What then? What will I become, now that we have won?
If you're not also wondering this, you should be.
Ultimately, I know that I'll die, still manning this station, still drawing my pension, long after this mega-transmitter of a brain has been turned off, dismantled, and GAW lies rusting and decaying, archived into the landscape like just come other WW3-era relic. Where do the Bismarks, the Yamatos, these battleships of the last in information war go to rest?
Plan your funeral. Plan who you want to be after this is all over. None of us can do this forever, and one day, I'll have coffee with each or any of you, with our kettle over the cold fire.
EDIT: Whoops, to be clear, not implying I'm some mega brain, here, that's not what I meant. Thanks for understanding
I'm noticing that my inner dialog, though it's still so focused on the war and our battle at hand, we have so clearly already won, our victory against the deep state is already so heavy, so decisive, so crushing, that, each of us, our powerful mental radars, still dumping absolute terawats over the horizon, what then? I can see a small CPU process instantiating in the background of my mind, wondering,OK, after this, what next? What then? What will I become, now that we have won?
If you're not also wondering this, you should be.
Ultimately, I know that I'll die, still manning this station, still drawing my pension, long after this mega-transmitter of a brain has been turned off, dismantled, and GAW lies rusting and decaying, archived into the landscape like just come other WW3-era relic. Where do the Bismarks, the Yamatos, these battleships of the last in information war go to rest?
Plan your funeral. Plan who you want to be after this is all over. None of us can do this forever, and one day, I'll have coffee with each or any of you, with our kettle over the cold fire.
I'm noticing that my inner dialog, though it's still so focused on the war and our battle at hand, we have so clearly already won, our victory against the deep state is already so heavy, so decisive, so crushing, that, each of us, our powerful mental radars, still dumping absolute terawats over the horizon, what then? I can see a small CPU process instantiating in the background, wondering,OK, after this, what next? What then? What will I become, now that we have won?
If you're not also wondering this, you should be.
Ultimately, I know that I'll die, still manning this station, still drawing my pension, long after this mega-transmitter of a brain has been turned off, dismantled, and GAW lies rusting and decaying, archived into the landscape like just come other WW3-era relic. Where do the Bismarks, the Yamatos, these battleships of the last in information war go to rest?
Plan your funeral. Plan who you want to be after this is all over. None of us can do this forever, and one day, I'll have coffee with each or any of you, with our kettle over the cold fire.
I'm noticing that my inner dialog, though it's still so focused on the war and our battle at hand, we have so clearly already won, our victory against the deep state is already so heavy, so decisive, so crushing, that, as with so many of us, with our powerful mental radars, still dumping absolute terawats over the horizon, I can see a small CPU process instantiating in the background, wondering,OK, after this, what next? What then? What will I become, now that we have won?
If you're not also wondering this, you should be.
Ultimately, I know that I'll die, still manning this station, still drawing my pension, long after this mega-transmitter of a brain has been turned off, dismantled, and GAW lies rusting and decaying, archived into the landscape like just come other WW3-era relic. Where do the Bismarks, the Yamatos, these battleships of the last in information war go to rest?
Plan your funeral. Plan who you want to be after this is all over. None of us can do this forever, and one day, I'll have coffee with each or any of you, with our kettle over the cold fire.
I'm noticing that my inner dialog, though it's still so focused on the war and our battle at hand, we have so clearly already won, our victory against the deep state is already so heavy, so decisive, so crushing, that, as with so many of us, with our powerful mental radars, still dumping absolute terawats over the horizon, I can see a small CPU process instantiating in the background, wondering, what next? What then? What will I become, now that we have won?
If you're not also wondering this, you should be.
Ultimately, I know that I'll die, still manning this station, still drawing my pension, long after this mega-transmitter of a brain has been turned off, dismantled, and GAW lies rusting and decaying, archived into the landscape like just come other WW3-era relic. Where do the Bismarks, the Yamatos, these battleships of the last in information war go to rest?
Plan your funeral. Plan who you want to be after this is all over. None of us can do this forever, and one day, I'll have coffee with each or any of you, with our kettle over the cold fire.
I'm noticing that my inner dialog, though it's still so focused on the war and our battle at hand, we have so clearly already won, our victory against the deep state is already so heavy, so decisive, so crushing, that, as with so many of us, with our powerful mental radars, still dumping absolute terawats over the horizon, I can see a small CPU process instantiating in the background, wondering, what next? What then? What will I become, now that we have won?
If you're not also wondering this, you should be.
Ultimately, I know that I'll die, still manning this station, still drawing my pension, long after this mega-transmitter of a brain has been turned off, dismantled, and GAW lies rusting and decaying, archived into the landscape like just come other WW3-era relic. Where do the Bismarks, the Yamatos, these battleships of the last in information war go to rest?