Given sufficient complexity, energy or information flow and time, the logical end-state of any particular process need not itself under analysis appear as though rationally derived or even substantively plausible. Of all possible worlds, we should be less surprised (than we invariably are) to find ourselves embedded within a strange and tangled constellation of events and entities such as that within which we actually do find ourselves. This state of affairs is something which did happen so it is self-evidently something that could have happened. It is stranger by far to attribute a necessity to the narrative that this particular (and in all phenomenological humility, at the very least – apparent) state of things is inevitable or fated when it could all quite easily have been otherwise. The world simply is what it is and we do not know why; no retrospective causal or projective semantic anchor exists upon which to reflexively build our own story, through which to validate our own selves. We will build such a narrative anyway and regardless – it is what we do and it is how we self-propagate ourselves, viscerally; that is also what all of these digital communications and strings of symbols as words and self-assembling meanings are (even) to myself. In this particular end and halting alphabet string, a silence of no-thought and existential disassembly is a terrifying vacuum but it is not irrational, unexpected or in the slightest bit impossible.