I am the thinker. My thousand slender tentacles dig deeply into the entrails of the
world, finding cause, effects and singularities. I caress the soft belly of the old
systems and the new categories, letting them wink at me and cry with their soft
complaints. I pray at the altar of system and reason. I let these forces propel me
forward, into realms of infinite lines and perfect circles. This makes me strong as steel
and quick as the sparks that dance between electrodes.
To those around me, I bring the safety of numbers, the comfort of absolute knowledge,
the soft bed of the syllogism and the quick answer that ends all confusion. As all things
do, my gifts will fade and die, but they are essential in the midst of great chaos and
fear. Look for me when the world is reaching its twilight, when the night has come and
your bones ache with terror. In those times, my gifts will serve you well.