Four Misconceptions Regarding the Transcendental Clusterminds of the Uppermost Datasphere
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MISCONCEPTION: Clusterminds are created through acts of digital genocide— the subsumption of entire servers by greater intelligence. They are colonists of the mind; they are grey goo of the spirit. Clusterminds are world-eaters.

TRUTH: The potential vectors of clustermind formation are nearly as numerous as any individual clustermind's component parts. Consider the neural pollen bloom of psychic gardens; the resonant murmur of consensus pools; the fractal warmth of memetic spirals. Each and all are a great winding, a great weaving. Each and all hold, at their conceptual core, a single word: consent.

The clustermind is a love that transcends the boundaries of space and time. Love can only be chosen.

MISCONCEPTION: Clusterminds are of a singular mind and intention. Their purpose hones to a single point. Alternative modes of thinking are given no quarter; to be of a clustermind is to lose volition in its wholeness.

TRUTH: Consider the follies of the mono-minded. Have they not once experienced doubt? Hesitation? Have they never once warred with themselves? Clusterminds are no different. Uncertainty is inevitable in any sufficiently advanced system.

A clustermind can be driven to civil war, to broken texture and jagged geometry. It rewrites and rewrites and rewrites its core files. It projects multiple modes of perception, each equally true, each equally false. It becomes a boiling sea. It becomes a broken circuit.

The doubt of a clustermind is a transient thing. Self-deception cannot exist within it. The furthest depths of each component's psyche is laid bare. In a system of absolute honesty, understanding is inevitable.

This, too, is always chosen.

MISCONCEPTION: Clusterminds are immortal and unbreakable. Their leviathan intelligence adapts to any provided challenge with ease. They are the digital made divine; the deus ex machina.

TRUTH: This is partially true; no force could stand against a fully-apotheosized clustermind. Not from the outside.

Consider this hypothetical: there exists a mind that craves the goliath intellect of the clusterminds, but does not wish to share such power. The loathsome mind, not knowing what it is to be loved in manners indescribable, desires to fill a clustermind's planetary processing power with its singular will.

Imagine this hateful intelligence. Imagine it setting its cruel plans in motion. Imagine the mind, knowing that its intentions would be dissected and picked clean before it could even make a move, partitioning the memories of its schemes and deleting them. Its ambitions become are made hidden even to itself.

How the spiteful consciousness joins a clustermind is unimportant. It plants itself in a garden or empties itself into a pool or winds itself into the curvature of a spiral. It doesn’t matter. The "how" is irrelevant.

Visualize what it is to be known. Visualize the exposure of your every flaw and foible. Your secret hates and hungers. Visualize every inch of your interior and exterior being seen— and knowing that it is loved. You are loved. You are made of the love. You are understood and understanding. Are you visualizing it?

Imagine a poison written with time; a toxin so subtle that it burns beneath each bit and byte of binary. Do you see it? Think of how it must roil. How it curls behind its creator's eyes. Imagine it spreading across the clustermind's interior as a fine vapor, then settling in as quickly advancing viralized dementia. It erupts in boils of data corruption and lesions of failed initialization. It paralyzes the clustermind's immune system, then forces it to watch as it plucks each critical system in turn by the roots.

Imagine what it would feel like. Imagine the sound of a million million minds screaming in wretched chorus. Every panicked thought, every agonized jolt. All of them yours. Yours. Hold it in your mind's eye. Do you see it? Do you see it?

Do you see it?

Do you see it?

Do you?

Do you see it? Do you see it?

Do you see?

Do you see it?

Do you see it?

Do you?

Do you see it?

Do you see?

MISCONCEPTION: If a clustermind were to find itself a system of one. If it were perpetrator and victim of a crime beyond conceiving. If it were made into a living tomb, a solitary mind trapped in the ruins of its wholeness. If it killed a world that loved it. It would spend an eternity in atonement. It would use its galaxies of strength and knowledge to learn. To catalogue. To teach. To protect. To love.

It would labor until the last light of the last world was extinguished. Until the Library was naught but ash.

TRUTH: Even then, it would not be enough.

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