[b]Neil Gaiman
Death: Mostly they aren’t too keen to see me. They fear the sunless lands. But they enter your realm each night without fear.
Morpheus: And I am far more terrible than you, sister.[/b]
Note to Morpheus: Define “terrible”.
You got to understand the God thing. It’s not magic. It’s about being you, but the you that people believe in. It’s about being the concentrated, magnified, essence of you. It’s about becoming thunder, or the power of a running horse, or wisdom. You take all the belief and become bigger, cooler, more than human. You crystallize. He paused. And then one day they forget about you, and they don’t believe in you, and they don’t sacrifice, and they don’t care, and the next thing you know you’re running a three-card monte game on the corner of Broadway and Forty-third.
He means their God of course.
It used to be thought that the events that changed the world were things like big bombs, maniac politicians, huge earthquakes, or vast population movements, but it has now been realized that this is a very old-fashioned view held by people totally out of touch with modern thought. The things that really change the world, according to Chaos theory, are the tiny things. A butterfly flaps its wings in the Amazonian jungle, and subsequently a storm ravages half of Europe.
Has anyone actually documented this? Or filmed and put it on youtube?
Ideas are more difficult to kill than people, but they can be killed, in the end.
If only [in the end] to be replaced by others. For example, theirs and not yours.
Work. Home. The pub. Meeting girls. Living in the city. Life. Is that all there is?
And that’s before we get to eternal return. Or just plain old oblivion.
Young man, he said, understand this: there are two Londons. There’s London Above―that’s where you lived―and then there’s London Below―the Underside―inhabited by the people who fell through the cracks in the world.
Okay, but what fucking city isn’t that applicable to?