And what if I were to say it was all a dream now? A dream I had while watching the boy play his video games or while the flames danced behind their black veil or this was the infinite revelation of the potentials of a moment in time unlocked by the interface expressing itself into me, as if the channel went both ways. The computer had taken in as much promise from me as I instilled in it. What if it were all a trick of the mind to get me to offer my child in sacrifice to the interface? So it might know the full flavor of humanity. What if even the hindu zombie fever were a fanciful dream? What if these are the full expressions of the ecstasy of making love to my wife beneath the clouds? What if I read this all from her canvas?
What about all the alternatives? Are they no less potent?