"What is this?"  He said, confused, in awe and wonder as 
he looked around himself.  

	"It's the Machine," was the answer, "All things live in the 
Machine."  

	"We're a part of some machine?"  

	"Not some machine.  The /Machine/.  And you're not a part of
it, boy.  You just happen to take advantage of the Machine.  Hell,
your whole species could be wiped off the face of your pathetic little
planet and your whole solar system could get smacked by a supernova and
the Machine wouldn't care one bit.  Might suck for you, though."

	"And this is the Machine, then?"  

	"Part of the Machine.  What you need to realize, boy, is that 
you can't really see the Machine, even now.  You're too small.  It'd be 
like an atom looking at a universe, only you're the atom, and the 
universe is the most infintesimal cog in the Machine.  But just because 
you can't see don't mean it ain't there.  Look at yourself!  You operate 
on principles of gravity, electromagnetic attraction, conversion of 
matter into energy, friction, and a host of other forces and rules.  
Take away one of these rules, one of the parts of the Machine, and you 
go poof.  No more.  The Machine wasn't created for you.  By some 
accident or entropy, the Machine's workings came together at just the
right time and place to make life.  Happens all the time.  Some 
atoms formed randomly, brought together by forces beyond your 
comprehension, and decided they liked being that way.  More of these
atoms got created, and somehow found their way to each other.  That,
in whatever scale, is how you got here to listen to me now.  Random
dumb chance that worked out because the Machine at the time was 
favourable to it working that way."  
  
	"Like how the methane in the air of ancient Earth allowed the 
bacteria and single-celled critters to thrive until they made enough 
waste gasses for plants and stuff to process into the oxygen which 
killed them?"   

	"Kinda, boy.  You need to get your facts straight, but you got
the idea.  What you have, how you live is really immaterial.  What 
counts is the parts of the Machine you use to keep living.  You need
oxygen to breathe, right?  But oxygen ain't everywhere.  It's only
found on your little Earth, and other worlds like it.  Ya don't find
oxygen out in space, or in the sun, or anywhere like that.  Just here.
Yeah, okay, you might find a little.  But I invite you to step outside
the ionosphere and take a deep breath.  Tell me what happens.  
	What about if you breathed hydrogen, instead?  Lot more of that
around.  Most plentiful element in the universe, so your scientists say.
You'd have to be different, sure, but look at all the places you could
live instead of on that little ball of rock you call Earth.  You might
even by able to live in space if you had something that'd collect all
the loose hydrogen atoms.  Hydrogen took advantage of a part of the 
Machine to form, and you took advantage of the part which created 
oxygen.  Another step up.  Your species latched onto some random 
aspect of the Machine's workings, which itself latches onto a bunch of
the Machine's by-products, which themselves are only the result of 
some of the Machine's motions.  Gravity as a particle, boy.  But 
particles are objects, right, and objects at rest tend to stay at rest.
So what moves gravity, boy?  Tell me!"  

	"The Machine?"

	"No!  The Machine doesn't care about gravity!  Gravity could 
go hang itself, for all that matters.  It's just an expression of a
deeper force, something buried closer to the Machine.  Maybe gravity
ain't one force, but a bunch of them, all working in such a way that 
what you know as gravity is only of their manifestations.  What'd
that do your physics, boy?  Don't answer.  You don't even know enough
about physics to even make a good guess at it."

	"If the Machine is so hidden, and so powerful that we're all
just gunk in its gears, where'd it come from?  What's it for?"    

	"I don't know, boy.  If I did know, you certainly wouldn't be
ready to even begin to comprehend.  Like what you see around you.  This
is a part of the Machine, alright, no masks, no deep layers, no 
coverings.  But can you understand this?  Do any of those gears and
spinning things and arcs of energy mean anything to you?  Do you see 
their pattern?  Do you see that pattern decaying?  Of course not.  
	Someone built the Machine, made sure all the parts worked right,
then kicked it good and hard, just enough to fuck it up oh-so-slightly,
and pushed the GO button.  Welcome to reality, boy."

	"But can I learn to understand?  I can see this much, what about
the rest?  If I study that rod there, can I figure out what it's doing,
maybe what it connects to?  Even that much, can I learn?"  

	"Yeah," came the answer.  "You can learn."

	Amidst the wonder and patterned chaos, he smiled.  

---------------
R.O
and thus are gods made