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choosetruthApocalypse stopped by literal Deus Ex Machina.
[Georgia, looking serious as ever in her dark sunglasses and black blazer, shakes her head.]
Every headline I write here gets weirder. I know some of you people come from worlds where all this god bullshit is real, but where I’m from? I guess I can’t say for sure, but whatever God is out there isn’t doing shit to help humanity. The question of “what happens after you die” has been conclusively answered with “your corpse gets up and tries to eat your friends.” That doesn’t mean religion is gone, mind you. Plenty of people still believe, and plenty of other people are willing to use that belief for their own political gain. Cause maybe the zombies will just go eat someone else if you have enough pictures of Jesus around.
[Not fucking likely. But fear and belief are powerful tools. Shaun and Becks has told her enough about her future for her to know that much, at least.
A pang goes through her when she thinks about Becks, who’s gone back to what litte future she had left. Georgia’s expression doesn’t shift under her sunglasses. Now is not the time to be sentimental.]
The closest thing I have to religion is devotion to the truth. I believe in facts. I believe in finding and sharing them. I believe in checking my sources and then checking my sources’ sources. I believe in getting multiple viewpoints from people with multiple biases and comparing and contrasting until you get something as close to objective truth as possible.
[Her tone turns dry.]
You can see why I might have trouble getting along with those who form their beliefs based on nothing but faith.
But here, there are people from worlds where deities actually, provably exist. Fuck, some of you even are deities, or your world’s equivalent. [If any of this is hard for Georgia to believe, she’s at least willing to accept that the language itself is mutable enough that the term “god” can be stretched to include whatever they really are.] And that’s without even touching on all the superheroes and magic and fucking lightsabers around.
To stay true to my belief in facts, I must accept the empirical evidence in front of me, no matter how impossible it seems. My parents and the other survivors of the Rising managed to accept the dead walking. How can I do any less when confronted with this place’s bullshit?
[The corner of her mouth twitches down almost imperceptibly. She might accept it. She still doesn’t like it.]
So. What about this place has been hardest for you to accept? How different is it from your home? How do you deal with it? [She raises an eyebrow above her sunglasses, the slimmest hint of a smirk playing around her mouth.] Yes, I’m aware mind-altering substances is an option. Not my thing, but you go have fun.
[Georgia, looking serious as ever in her dark sunglasses and black blazer, shakes her head.]
Every headline I write here gets weirder. I know some of you people come from worlds where all this god bullshit is real, but where I’m from? I guess I can’t say for sure, but whatever God is out there isn’t doing shit to help humanity. The question of “what happens after you die” has been conclusively answered with “your corpse gets up and tries to eat your friends.” That doesn’t mean religion is gone, mind you. Plenty of people still believe, and plenty of other people are willing to use that belief for their own political gain. Cause maybe the zombies will just go eat someone else if you have enough pictures of Jesus around.
[Not fucking likely. But fear and belief are powerful tools. Shaun and Becks has told her enough about her future for her to know that much, at least.
A pang goes through her when she thinks about Becks, who’s gone back to what litte future she had left. Georgia’s expression doesn’t shift under her sunglasses. Now is not the time to be sentimental.]
The closest thing I have to religion is devotion to the truth. I believe in facts. I believe in finding and sharing them. I believe in checking my sources and then checking my sources’ sources. I believe in getting multiple viewpoints from people with multiple biases and comparing and contrasting until you get something as close to objective truth as possible.
[Her tone turns dry.]
You can see why I might have trouble getting along with those who form their beliefs based on nothing but faith.
But here, there are people from worlds where deities actually, provably exist. Fuck, some of you even are deities, or your world’s equivalent. [If any of this is hard for Georgia to believe, she’s at least willing to accept that the language itself is mutable enough that the term “god” can be stretched to include whatever they really are.] And that’s without even touching on all the superheroes and magic and fucking lightsabers around.
To stay true to my belief in facts, I must accept the empirical evidence in front of me, no matter how impossible it seems. My parents and the other survivors of the Rising managed to accept the dead walking. How can I do any less when confronted with this place’s bullshit?
[The corner of her mouth twitches down almost imperceptibly. She might accept it. She still doesn’t like it.]
So. What about this place has been hardest for you to accept? How different is it from your home? How do you deal with it? [She raises an eyebrow above her sunglasses, the slimmest hint of a smirk playing around her mouth.] Yes, I’m aware mind-altering substances is an option. Not my thing, but you go have fun.