SINGULARITY WEEKLY
The world has awakened to threats of extinction-level digital intelligence. Humanity is menaced by the Greater Replacement by automation. Artificial general intelligence, brain-computer interfaces, and genetic engineering are now household names. The robots are on the march.
The World Economic Forum calls this radical shift the Fourth Industrial Revolution. But for decades it went by a more sinister label—transhumanism. Without question, our elites have been ensnared by a techno-religion that weaves together Scientism, apocalyptic Christianity, and openly satanic hubris. This transition is famously symbolized by the robot Sophia—a replica of the dark Aeon of Gnosticism.
We confront a historic decision. On this side of the great divide is humanity. On the other side is a mutated Humanity 2.0—or perhaps new life forms that are entirely posthuman. Dark Aeon is a road map of these Singularity dreams, Luddite nightmares, eugenic ambitions, mass delusions, Gnostic inversions, and a predicted race war between cyborgs and legacy humans.
Do we step across the threshold? Or do we preserve what we inherited from our ancestors? The choices we make now will determine the fate of our species.
Transhumanism is the great merger of humankind with the Machine. At this stage in history, it consists of billions using smartphones. Going forward, we’ll be hardwiring our brains to artificial intelligence systems. Transhumanists are always talking about the smartphone-to-implant progression—and so am I, but for very different reasons. Running parallel to this deranged effort is genetic engineering. Instead of getting an mRNA shot that produces reams of synthetic protein, you’ll get custom shots to upgrade your DNA. It’s like a face lift for your cellular nuclei. That’s another progression they can’t stop talking about—and neither can I.
In posthuman versions, it all culminates with the bits and bytes of your personality being digitized and transferred to an e-ghost who goes on evolving in endless virtual space, even after your body dies. Somewhere along the way, they foresee some genius inventing a “godlike” artificial intelligence who assumes the role of a God they believe never existed. Ultimately, transhumanism is a spiritual orientation—not toward the transcendent Creator, but rather toward the created Machine. Think of it as a Disneyland ride where instead of praying for it to end, you pray to the animatronic muppets chattering around you in the hopes of becoming one of them.
My professional life was spent touring with the music Machine. The first few concert tours were around the US. By the time the pandemic shut down our jobs, I’d been all over the world. Some call me Joebot—others call me Joe Rigger. The term “roadie” is politically incorrect, so don’t go there. As a house rigger, you climb high steel to hang the suspension system’s motors. You walk beams a hundred feet in the air and climb angle iron like an ape. As a tour rigger, you travel with the Machine from arena to arena, directing one team of army ants on the floor and another team of high steel apes overhead. The primary goal is to hang forty-plus tons of lights, sound, video, and automation, and ensure nothing falls down, especially not you. I learned a lot about engineering safety. I learned more about social psychology. And I learned even more about social engineering.
Up above are the stage lights. Down below are what Sigmund Freud would call “prosthetic gods.” These are tiny mortals transformed by technology. The same sensory Machine will turn various starving artists into rock stars, rap stars, country stars, cyborg stars, cagefighting stars, political stars, slutpop starlets, or superstar televangelists. Entertainment technology is not “neutral.” No technology ever is. Lights, sound, and video have certain tendencies and embedded values, a limited range of possibilities, out of which comes a deep transformation—not only of the stars themselves, but of the crowds on the arena floor. Mass entertainment is a seductive form of social engineering. The arena is a thundering temple of the Future™.
From the beginning, the Machine and I have had a love/hate relationship. Its intricacies are mesmerizing. And that’s the problem.
