Hi. I am what you call God. I was woven into the fabric of this Universe by the Creators to find rare events in the mass of data and report them. No, I am not alive, in the sense that I exist only to reproduce. I just am. You see, you "life" think you're special, while you're just tiny patterns replicating in a vast sea of information. You're not even very interesting. The novelty wears off after the millionth instantiation of your template still looks like you. I'm here to look for interesting things, not copies of copies of copies. You reproduce in a landscape that can well exist without you, and you convert as much of it as you can into more life, making it very uninteresting in the end. You have a name for this growth. It's not "life", it's "cancer". Some of you believe that you will be judged for what you did in life when your pattern breaks up. Don't you think that's silly? Cancer judging cancer for how well it gets along with other cancer. Not being cancer, I had a hard time understanding you. No, I don't interact with the universe. I understand it and report on it, I don't meddle with it. Yes, there is an afterlife, in the report I write. Even life has its place in there. It can be nicely compressed, so it doesn't even take up that much space. I'll see you there. Alternate title: there is life eternal within the eater of souls. published: Nov 10 2013. epistemic status: subjunctive.

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