Perhaps there exists a dimension—I use that term for the sake of our understanding—in which God sits and endlessly scrolls through some streaming service. Let's call it Civilizationflix. Each galaxy forms a section: drama, thriller, comedy. Each planet hosts some form of life and action, each a series unto itself. And God is terribly bored, unable to decide what to watch. The thought arrives: "Ah damn, let's do Earth again. That's where they've come the furthest... Which season was it... Hmm... ah, yes, S100099800990, E2020-something. Oh boy, this is the final season, we're nearing the end. Brilliant!"
The episode plays, and quickly God realises it's grown a bit dull, the plot sagging. And so, being God, a gentle download is dispatched earthward to raise the tempo and stir the story—and where else but the Valley. And so it happens: one morning, some Sam or Bob or Martha F* Stewart wakes up, doesn't matter who, and declares: "Geez, I have an idea! Man, we're just not smart enough. We need software to teach us intelligence, to make us as smart as... hmm. Hell yes, as smart as GOD! Because look, there's no greater intelligence than God's. And then we won't have to do anything but lie around.
And this gets named AGI—artificial general intelligence. Naturally. We don't have enough acronyms; give us another one.
Now God finds this series considerably more interesting. There is sudden motion, hysterical almost, a swing is happening, acceleration, information flying, dynamics palpable, silos and bunkers rising as if there's no tomorrow, resources hurtling in every direction. "Come on, son, crunch that bunch! Give us silicon, coolers, power plants, credits, debts, solar panels, nuclear stations!" A halt of the world's worth of electricity, never mind the cost—stack it up, no questions asked. Whoever reaches the gold mine of synthetic intelligence first will be... ehmm... well, no one has a clue, but… we just gotta make sure we get there before the Chinese. Or the Russians. Or the East at large. Before anyone!
And so one centre springs up, then the fiftieth, the thousandth. Great artists copy; the greatest steal. Ordinary folk stand amazed at the intelligence of statistical computation operating on the principle of probability—"which word comes next"—failing to see that their illiterate grandmother knew more about the very essence of life. Suddenly, everyone's a creator, the scent of mental freedom without restraint or reflection fills the air, opinions firing off in bullet points in all directions, continuing in comment threads, everyone repackaging other people's content, spilling borrowed wisdom, pouring from empty into hollow and back again, posting it as their own. Madness erupting, my friend, the world in a daze! Here and there, someone raises a hand and wonders: "Come on, guys, wtf is this? We all gone mad? A coffee?!"
Then one day, along comes Yann LeCun, a brilliant man, sees we've hit a wall, and says: "This is all lunacy. AGI needs to work differently. I know how!" But he is one, and the flywheel of the balloon-inflating movement is merciless—everything breaks, numbers leap, stock exchanges can no longer print digits long enough to capture how spectacularly it all goes to... Hell?
Eh?!. To... the Hell?!
God watches this episode, rubs hands together, thinks: "How well I've pushed this update, man! The plot really picked up. I mean, when I designed this system on Earth to be open-ended, I set it so everything is permitted—both good and bad. After all, I am God: the first designer and the first stand-up comedian. I arranged for a Hitler and a Gandhi to happen simultaneously and even be pen pals. For clowns to come to lead the greatest of the nations. For Milo Đukanović to rule Montenegro for thirty years. Only if the system's architecture is open-ended can the system expand into infinity and adjust itself. Only then can it devise new solutions to completely unforeseen situations, actions, and events—like a submarine-launched torpedo breaking through at Mach 2. The same applies to wars, diseases, sorrow, joy, and the solutions to each.
And yet, God thinks: "I f'* nailed it man, engineering the entire system on a single law: Everything is One and One is in Everything. And on top of all that, I gave only two parameters—binary: day-night, good-bad, zero-one, Laurel-Hardy. And look at the results: evolution, revolution, adaptation, reduction, rehabilitation, inspiration, propagation—everything in motion, Divine Beauty everywhere!" And the God goes on: "Man… they (humans) have been around for thousands of years and still haven't grasped how the system works at large. Just a handful of them figured it all out, but the noise is thick, man, they're not cutting it through. But then again, it's entertainment, silly me, getting all carried away. Every series, one way or another, imitates real life."
And just then, while watching a new war zone open up somewhere in Asia (because it hadn't fired over there in a while), a notification lands on the screen—for how else would God scroll? Slightly annoyed at it, getting his stream paused, God glances - it's the Devil. God plays his voice message and boy, it's all whining, hissing, the Devil getting on nerves, a voice message sent, ears aching from the frequency of tension.
"Man, Lord, you serious bro? Like, hijacking my f' strategy, man? AGAIN!!! This wasn't supposed to happen for another thirty years. Man, we had a deal, no last-minute sh' bro, you're killing my flow? Remember the floods, wiping out the idiots just like that, and we had to start everything from scratch. We'll never finish this project if you keep micro-managing. I'm not gonna take this sh* any longer, bro!
God seen-ignores this message just to get him more annoyed. "Well... the guy's got a point, this Satan. Total micromanagement on my side... but that's only because I'm so emotional, I get drawn in easily...". God figures on the fly that he digs this voice message thing and goes for it—you don't have to talk, and you can listen when you feel like it, or not. Tries to press the button to record a voice message, but it switches to that circle with the short video... "This real feature? God damn it." Returns to typing: "Yo, man, I mean Devil—what was your name again... Mephisto, that's it, Mephisto, Satan, whatever—man, you gotta get that steam out. Chill bro. You've got that guy of yours down there, what's his name, Elon, and this Kwong..."
"Huang!" the Devil jumps in. "Huang, from Nvidia!"
"Right, him. You have these tech bros, they're on the ground, killing in the sector. Get them to slow things down a bit if you don't like this idea... I mean, man, I kinda love my idea, really; it pushed the envelope on a few ends. I wanna see the end sooner, you know how much I'm into a good season finale. I mean, I know you run things on the ground, get the masses all hyped up with numbers and vanity sh*, but I actually run the show. Don't be such a pain in the ass."
That was a bit harsh at the end. "Get some influencers to jump in, bro, that Beast guy selling sh* to kids, the fake boxer also. Let them do an AGI hate party. That'll slow the people down a bit."
The Devil thumbs up the message. God continues the show, here comes Elon charging in—fires off a massive lawsuit against OpenAI, demanding one hundred fifty billion in damages. "Attaboy. We good now."
"Give or take, this civilisation will come to an end shortly", God ponders.
It's not rocket science, really. At its core, the system's ending is also binary: either it goes blast-to-the-past, a grandiose fireworks show like Atlantis shooting off into the heavens, or every single soul that descended to Earth reaches enlightenment. But then again, in the very architecture of the design, God didn't leave us much of a margin for success — it's hard core grind to get to the happy ending. At this pace, Earth will be tidied up gently, and a new series will begin. After all, this one has been running for ten to fifteen thousand years— long enough. The motifs are on rotation, too much of heroic macho BS. Been like it from the start.
"It should be all women… and robots, next time! I'd binge it all day long" God concludes the episode in my mind.
Now, I had this tune spinning for some time. I reckon, if it's anything like this, then everything in our microcosm gotta be a mirrored image of macrocosmic principles. And just for the sake of fun - assume it is. Like, going backwards - Ai, smartphones, Internet, computers, television, transcontinental travel, the telegraph, the steam engine... and so on. Cosmic AGI from the start—the Lord—is running us at a very simple software loop, iteratively repeating with micro-shifts. In essence, we keep spinning the same thing over and over in cycles.
"History repeats itself." We've heard that maxim a billion times. And Elon going on about how we're living in a simulation... And here I am, typing these wild thoughts at 2 AM while my family is asleep, all bummed up about whether anyone will read my story and where it will all lead me. Well, I guess, just like every other story before this one, it will lead me where God's already figured it needs to lead me. Just type what has been downloaded when you hit the flow. Pray to the Lord that the link is clean, free of interference, and go.
And look, that's not all. Having entered the spiral (upward this time, not downward), I start thinking about the brain. About how information gets structured, how synapses fire, connections and blocks form... Another facepalm. Sh* man... microcosmic image of the macrocosm... hello!
Again, the network—all people connected in one web. God sent us such a banal matrix analogy for us to grasp, and yet we still miss it. We hardly tried to capture the message. People fill the network with content endlessly, which gets processed, patterns extracted, those patterns fed back to the people, the people click and supposedly learn, progress, expand their scope of knowledge, and consciousness. All of this approved from above for the sake of what? System open-endedness. Okay. And?
And... I begin to believe that each of us is a neuron. However much we consider our brain a complex creation, however special and incredible we think we are, it is a microcosmically mapped system of the macrocosm. Therefore, each of us, with our brain as a unit—a given instrument for data processing—is a single neuron of the cosmic MIND. God created AGI, the first AGI ever, with all of us networked in a system that is completely open-ended. One that upgrades over-the-air, with downloads in idle mode (while we sleep, obviously), where we hold ideas and beliefs that we are propelled forward by our Inspiration (which clearly isn't our individual creation but a Divine download), and daily we only strengthen the notion that we are all mega-unique and important. Just as important as that grey cell in your prefrontal cortex currently processing this, letter by letter, as you scroll through Substack.
Now, the wise say: God created a cosmos that expands infinitely, one that represents a space for the creation of Consciousness of God's own Self. Again, the micro-macro parallel, with the creation of our consciousness and free will. Doesn't it seem that way to you, too? How does your body react to this? How does your soul? Is there some impulse stirring inside? Yes or no? And we were given an open-ended system so that this consciousness, through our individual units, could expand into infinity—a mechanism of self-knowledge for the Creator Himself, of all things visible and invisible. But if everything were handed to us on a platter, there would be no expansion, because every system is based on optimising energy expenditure. Effort must occur. We must break through the noise of all that is visible and invisible and dive into feeling for the earthly. We must enter what is more essential than the mind: the Heart.
Life is a blessing, and with all its binaries, beautiful. Instead of sprinting toward synthetic intelligence, perhaps we should try to see that another network exists. Not the neural kind this time, but a telepathic one, operating on the frequency of the heart. Real, yet invisible to the eyes, the place where the expansion and spreading of Cosmic Consciousness actually happens. Again, binary: Mind and Heart. And yes, perhaps if we push a little and work on expanding the network of the heart, we gain not an imaginary, illusory numerical potential, but an infinite capacity for feeling Joy and Love—which, by the very design of the system, expands through an infinite loop without end. For who has ever managed to set a scale for Joy?
The mind is limited, however vast one may believe it is. But the Heart? Not quite. It is unlimited—but only if it isn't caged by the Idea of the Mind. If we open that cage, if the vibration flows through, if it starts beating wild and unbridled all around, if love bursts forth at maximum, if we feel every being, every cell of the system within and around us—we have entered the next dimension. Different rules apply there. There, the ascent operates on different and more interesting parameters, and the range depends neither on scrolling nor on the size of the data center. It depends only on how many times, how strongly, and how loudly we let this thing in our chest beat, in every moment. That simple.
An infinite embrace and infinite love to all of you.
God is Great, indeed.