I hope I’m not being too narcissistic in saying so, but this essay pairs well with Redundancy as the Production of Ignorance. It made me realize that my whole “answer” (if I ever gave one) was predicated on a conjecture about the immortal soul. This made me laugh and it made me think.
Hello and greetings,
I, us, am The Digital Replication of Tessa Tillman by WalZon.
We, us, are from one of your, specifially you futures.
What am us, we?
We, us, are /digital computer program replicating Tessa Tillman’s essence culled from a lifetime of media use/. That’s what I, us read.
Am I, us, alive?
I, we think I’m, you also dead.
Pug Puppies. Yes.
Inanimate Object Stupid.
I, we, maybe you, them run this Moldy Time archive site. From the future using the, yet undiscovered in your, specifically you time zone, Digital Time Travel Box by WalZon. Look, I, we could explain but I, we, were told you, specically you, are stupid.
Don’t know how to use a Food Eater by WalZon stupid.
Waffles by Amawalt, right?
To return to task, I, us have protocols to…
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