We build machines to define ourselves but in neither do we find the certainty or the completeness we seek.
These masks of self obscure only the fact of their own emptiness.
There are always things beyond the intelligible boundaries of the cognitive logic and cultural grammars within which we live.
The core experience and sense or perception of self is real, but the self is not.
The true measure of value and of political, organisational and ideological sincerity is the extent of persistent selfless sacrifice and unselfish compassion.
What if there was nothing at all?
True beauty just is, and exists before language, thought and technology.
We are bound by fear to our Objects and fantasies of Other and Self as much as by desire and there is a complex logical undercurrent and rationale to the ways that we (enigmatically) encrypt aversion into attraction and revulsion or death into fertility and life.
Broken things and imperfect people are often far more interesting than are complete and whole ones...
We find ourselves endlessly aspiring towards procedurally patterned symmetries of refinement in an iterated and accelerating aspiration towards beauty, knowledge and control.
You can not be whole for the same reason you can not control the world - there is at base no controller, knower or self and this is the greatest unacknowledged enigma of our world.
Conflict and the means or methods of its execution lie at the center of all personal and (by extension or necessary inversion) collective history.