The tower of babel could be over there or here.
A civilization falls when it happens in reality, and a civilization continues when it stays in fiction.
Metaphorically speaking, it is simplification. However, are simplifications not fiction after all?
The risk of generalizing is necessary to tell a simulation that strikes the heart.
The emotional truth.
The emotional truth men pretend to not follow even though they are slaves to it, because anger is still an emotion after all.
It is correct that humans likely have no free will, but a component that lowers our free will, or a factor mathematically speaking, is our collective knowledge. As some mathematicians have done or in the shounen fight in between the Golden Wind and the Devil, instead of picturing humans as geometric shapes repeating their bodies from past to future while at the same time affecting everything around them, instead think of the arts and craft humankind consumes sincerely instead.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
That geometric shape is fiction.
The books we read. The video games we play. The music we listen to. Most of the bullshit humans say, because that is fiction too.
Babble on. Babylon.
Social bubbles are babble and geometric shapes if mathematicians want them to be.
If one came across a redhatter in reality recently, multiply their brains as much as the imagination allows, and add on the strong possibility that they will no longer know their 123s too. They will multiply their brains by either making babies they will impose their wills on or make other flesh computers hallucinate.
The tower of leaves here can start conversations between two humans on the basics of the alphabet, philosophy, counting, science, not being a bigot who says they are not a bigot, and computer science. To prompt each other like two GPT bots. To humans swept away by apparitions in memes and screens, the pages before will seem like divine revelation. However, what my predecessors, my past lives, or my reincarnations—whatever word becomes trendy—they made the mistake of thinking that they needed the universal answers.
However, the universal story that always and always will be is the one that asks all the right questions.
And nothing more.
That is the universal simulation.
However, when the best possible outcomes happen, these pages are simply ramblings of a mad man.
Now my children, who is ready for a simulation?
First, I must also defeat myself and go in between the lines.
Writing with a heavy hand is both a sin and hatecraft, but it is also the most sincere. And at the same time, sincerity is fiction.
God is a paradox.