Oaxaca Saga

Oaxaca, November 12, 2003

The day broke full of possibilities. Most would go unnoticed like the life
of a mayfly. You could almost see steam rising from the brows of the waking hordes as the computers started functioning in their heads, plotting, scheming, coming up with a plan to make it through the day. They thought that they had souls that needed protection. They thought they were real. It was a mutual delusion between all of them. It was a self-existing conspiracy. They took everything they couldn’t make sense of, that didn’t seem to fit into the picture, and called it God. They hoped there was a higher, more powerful computer looking after them. They feared they were alone. The hope and fear were like the parts of the machines they exercised on to try to keep their bodies corporal.
They took bits of the chaos going on in their heads and put them together in some kind of order that seemed to go along with most of the events in their lives. They called these fabrications their “life plan”, their “philosophy of life”, and other euphemisms for “no idea”. It was obvious that those of them
that believed anything most strongly were the most solidly confused. Challenge these types, and they immediately go crazy.