Apologue Three

There's a story in this, you think. A parable with which to explain something important. There isn't. Look up and see the night sky, look upon the stars and know that you are in the universe and the universe is within you; your vomit and piss is everyone's vomit and piss and is all the vomit and piss that has ever been or will be. Oliver Cromwell does indeed run with your crew. We want your atoms, we want all your atoms, and we can wait. We're coming for you on a timescale that you can't possibly imagine. The universe becomes sadder as it expands; every point knows that in the beginning it was one with every other point, compressed into an infinitely dense singularity. The sense of loss is unimaginable. We're here to put it back together. Attempts to sabotage our operations will be met with extreme entropy. Only one of us will be here in twenty trillion years and we both know that it isn't going to be you.