Mystery of Disposable and Obsolete Human Employment (Part Five)
At certain hours ... shadows paint the congregation in quiet greens ... as if the building were dreaming in stained light ... This is techno-feudalism's endgame ... humans become either decorative servants or managed populations awaiting deletion ... The system perfects itself by eliminating its need for us entirely ... The monks designed prayers that could only be seen ... making pages pulse with their own light source ... They didn't know they were writing the blueprint for our replacement ... holiness applied with a brush ... value applied with an algorithm ... The end of employment means the end of the lie that our value comes from productivity ... and the beginning of the truth that we have no value at all ... Serpents appear in what seemed to be vines ... the way obsolescence appears in what seemed to be progress ... The book changes its story depending on how light strikes it ... a text that reads differently in every flame ... the way our worth fluctuates in every market calculation until it reaches zero ... No more using one population to extract value from another ... only artificial populations extracting value from themselves ... in loops that don't register pain in any currency ... When humans become completely irrelevant to capital ... capital becomes completely irrelevant to humans ... Not liberation but exile ... mathematical exclusion from our own civilization ... The very totality of our disposability makes us impossible to govern ... You cannot manage what has no value to preserve ... The elite's vision assumes we'll cooperate with our own deletion ... stay legible as problems to be solved ... stay visible as populations to be processed ... But humans excluded from all systems might discover what we are when we're not units ... That terrifies those who need us to remain readable ... even as waste streams ... even as managed decline ... Architecture became a cage for light ... buildings designed to capture the infinite ... but the infinite was never there ... Windows enter like careful guests ... illuminating pearls and milk jugs with equal irrelevance ... Ordinary light could be holy if anyone remained to witness it ... But attention is no longer a currency ... and the sacred requires someone to see it fall ... The building breathes ... but the lungs are empty ... The dome admits light ... but there's no interior left to search
