Out of a vacuum it swells. The mantra of trillions and trillions of cells. Begin to whisper. Begin to speak, the story of the overlapping media we seek. So many stories. Too many to tell. From the prophets of past to the stories reshaped to sell. Old ideas wrapped up in new packages. Put under the tree for Christmas Day. Sold on discount the next day on eBay.
I have been part of these groups. Collected our intelligence. We were Borg. One cube floating through cyberspace. We could not be denied. Our presence well known, print media relied on the tidbits of knowledge we had grown. Hijacked by flamers I was threatened and scorned. Stolen information deleted by our own kind. Two admins who no longer wanted to share their time.
They believed their livelihoods threatened, no more spoilers withstood. We never became involved in unreal online hoods. We always discussed our lives and the world we saw. We attempted to define truth, justice and write new laws. The deeper we pushed the more abandoned we became. The more we questioned the more hatred reigned.
Many fake identities began to grow. A group swelled to crush the experiment we now know. As Globatron. An art project with many lives. An extension of many and a reflection of one. For there are no new ideas under the sun. From the beginning everyone experienced what they saw. Not being able to read we drew on cave walls. Not not knowing the Messiah we believed what was told. As stories were passed down for generations to thaw. From the frozen tundra of the Dark Ages. From the philosophy of the massacred Gnostic sages.
So this Matrix we speak of, will never really be understood. It is the Tao. The Way. The everything and nothing, we say. It is collective consciousness. Universal. It is movies. Comics. The games we play. It is all the subcultures we live each day. We all live inside this web of media we discuss. We may never really know, but Do We Must.