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.