The christ contrast. Adjust the christ contrast. Retract, retrace the
christ contract. Unravel the rainbow. Disentangle visible light from the
electromagnetic spectrum, & let it sproing free, waveforms overwound,
contained too tightly for too long — suddenly everyone is blind! The
beings, the gods that gave body to visible light, they've gone on to
other dimensions, and nobody's much interested in toiling any longer in
the service of Eyes.

So we learn to see with Minds. In the Nation of the Blind, the One-eyed
Mind is King. With the mind of a king, and of a man, Mama Cocha rose to
prominence, naked and jocose, neither jewels nor sceptres. We all swam in
the sea, then. We communicated with high-frequency sound arranged in
artistic patterns such as only ears can devise. We floated northward on
soft bubbles & plankton. We detonated the Plankton Bomb at the Bimini
Wall. Scratch the surface, and see the roll call of our dead in wet-wars,
scratched in our Acheulian symbol-language.

The minor, utilitarian gods, the miners who travel in laser-guided
spaceships vaporising space trash — sub-orbital garbage man, now that'd
be a job alright. Now that we've nullified gravity, with a device that
cannot malfunction, we populate the skies. We live on houseboats in the
air, on houseships in the high atmosphere, and we only fear
depressurization or collision. No — even collison we've annihilated, with
our anti-grav repellors.