If They Asked How I Died Tell

Science Casts A Long Black Shadow Back Over Who We Think We Are, And Where It Falls The Temperature Falls With It. Its Touch Is Chilly And Unforgiving.

If They Asked How I Died Tell Them: Still Angry.

I Think By Definition You Need To Have Lived A Little Bit To Write Anything That's Humanly True.

Syndicate Is Technically The First Game I Worked On.

For All That We Have Done, As A Civilization, As Individuals, The Universe Is Not Stable, And Nor Is Any Single Thing Within It. Stars Consume Themselves, The Universe Itself Rushes Apart, And We Ourselves Are Composed Of Matter In Constant Flux. Colonies Of Cells In Temporary Alliance, Replicating And Decaying And Housed Within, An Incandescent Cloud Of Electrical Impulse And Precariously Stacked Carbon Code Memory. This Is Reality, This Is Self Knowledge, And The Perception Of It Will, Of Course, Make You Dizzy.