Spoilers are unmarked.
17776
"You know, I never went to New York. Never even visited. I don't know why I didn't. I remember watching Sesame Street when I was little, and I liked how people would just sit on their steps and talk to each other in front of these nice and neat and square buildings. And all they had to do was cross the street or go next door to talk to each other.
Then I went to school, got a job, you know, you get busy. And it's...
Who was it who said, uh, "even if life is forever, each moment of it is a miracle?" I think that's just something we tell ourselves. We're just ordinary and forever, I think. There's a leveling out that happens if you live forever and ever without anything to lose.
New York was probably just one more place with a lot of buildings. But I missed seeing it, that's a thing I lost. That's one of the only things I've ever lost. Thinking about that kind of gets me right in the heart. Like a little xylophone hammer is, you know, just hits it. ...It's a note we never play anymore."
Then I went to school, got a job, you know, you get busy. And it's...
Who was it who said, uh, "even if life is forever, each moment of it is a miracle?" I think that's just something we tell ourselves. We're just ordinary and forever, I think. There's a leveling out that happens if you live forever and ever without anything to lose.
New York was probably just one more place with a lot of buildings. But I missed seeing it, that's a thing I lost. That's one of the only things I've ever lost. Thinking about that kind of gets me right in the heart. Like a little xylophone hammer is, you know, just hits it. ...It's a note we never play anymore."
— Lori, Chapter 4: "Nashville, Tennessee. West Virginia."
Nine: We don't ... do anything, right? There's nothing we're supposed to be doing?
Ten: Nope. We completed our mission 15,000 years ago.
Nine: So now we just ... hang out. We perpetually hang out. […] Just like all the people down there, we shoot the shit, and watch football, and waste time.
Ten: That's exactly it. That's the fate we share. Speaking for myself, that's the connection I share with them. I'm the least human thing you could imagine, but I feel like I'm like them. […] Your choice of words is interesting. "Wasting time."
Nine: Well, yeah. Those people in the canyon? They've wasted, what, 13,000 years playing a game they know nobody can win. The people I remember would have quit in a week.
Ten: Well, this is what I'd say to that. There's no indication that these peoples' lives will ever end. They will never run out of time. "Wasting" implies the consumption of something that you can't get back. So if they have an infinite supply of time, can they ever really waste any of it?
Ten: Nope. We completed our mission 15,000 years ago.
Nine: So now we just ... hang out. We perpetually hang out. […] Just like all the people down there, we shoot the shit, and watch football, and waste time.
Ten: That's exactly it. That's the fate we share. Speaking for myself, that's the connection I share with them. I'm the least human thing you could imagine, but I feel like I'm like them. […] Your choice of words is interesting. "Wasting time."
Nine: Well, yeah. Those people in the canyon? They've wasted, what, 13,000 years playing a game they know nobody can win. The people I remember would have quit in a week.
Ten: Well, this is what I'd say to that. There's no indication that these peoples' lives will ever end. They will never run out of time. "Wasting" implies the consumption of something that you can't get back. So if they have an infinite supply of time, can they ever really waste any of it?
— Chapter 7: "We perpetually hang out."
"I wonder if there's a single place in the whole world that's never had a story. I bet not. I just about guarantee you there's no places like that in America. Every little square of it, every place you stomp your foot, that's where something happened. Something wild, maybe something nobody knows about, but something. You can fall out of the sky and right into some forgotten storybook.
You run and run and run and you keep turning pages and none of them are empty. They're all full of stories. There's nowhere left to write.
I think I'm just a bookmark."
You run and run and run and you keep turning pages and none of them are empty. They're all full of stories. There's nowhere left to write.
I think I'm just a bookmark."
— Nancy McGunnell, Chapter 8: "Bee, Nebraska"
"If they advanced too much further technologically, those advances would inevitably intrude on humanity. People wanted to walk. They wanted to take the bus that smelled like cigarettes. They wanted those precious three minutes between asking a question and knowing the answer.
People defeated scarcity. Everyone had what they needed, and nobody got sick, but they found that they needed things to be just a little bit difficult once in a while. They needed to stub their toe and wait in line and see that CHECK ENGINE light. They decided to leave their existence just a little short of perfect, because they wanted to want."
People defeated scarcity. Everyone had what they needed, and nobody got sick, but they found that they needed things to be just a little bit difficult once in a while. They needed to stub their toe and wait in line and see that CHECK ENGINE light. They decided to leave their existence just a little short of perfect, because they wanted to want."
— Ten, Chapter 12: "Intermission, part 2"
"There is also something to be said for the mechanism of human change. It's largely generational. Peoples' wants and hopes and dreams evolved because young people entered the world and took another step forward.
But this is the final generation. Yes, it is a 15,000-year-old generation, but just as you wouldn't expect them to grow a third arm, you shouldn't assume they want different things, different lives. They wanted things and they got them all. The end.
This could have been observed in the years before people stopped aging. People sometimes talk about their grandparents, who they knew in the 1960s, '70s, '80s. They tend to talk about the day-to-day sameness of their grandparents' lives. Their furniture is what interests me specifically. It would never, ever be re-arranged. Sofas and armoires would be shoved into the living room in 1955, and they would sit their unmoved until 1995, all the while their legs slowly digging themselves into the carpet.
Plates and portraits would hang on the wall for eons; when you took them down, they would leave unbleached shadows of themselves in the paint.
It would have been so simple for them to re-arrange their things. To me, it seems so likely, almost to the point of certaintly, that at some moment within those 40 years, they might want to. They never did, and they never even thought to. And why would they? Things were just the way they wanted them."
But this is the final generation. Yes, it is a 15,000-year-old generation, but just as you wouldn't expect them to grow a third arm, you shouldn't assume they want different things, different lives. They wanted things and they got them all. The end.
This could have been observed in the years before people stopped aging. People sometimes talk about their grandparents, who they knew in the 1960s, '70s, '80s. They tend to talk about the day-to-day sameness of their grandparents' lives. Their furniture is what interests me specifically. It would never, ever be re-arranged. Sofas and armoires would be shoved into the living room in 1955, and they would sit their unmoved until 1995, all the while their legs slowly digging themselves into the carpet.
Plates and portraits would hang on the wall for eons; when you took them down, they would leave unbleached shadows of themselves in the paint.
It would have been so simple for them to re-arrange their things. To me, it seems so likely, almost to the point of certaintly, that at some moment within those 40 years, they might want to. They never did, and they never even thought to. And why would they? Things were just the way they wanted them."
— Ten, Chapter 12: "Intermission, part 2"
"Of course, humans could, at any time, introduce things to make their lives more efficient. But when we consider post-scarcity humanity, we must also note that time is no longer scarce. Efficiency is meant to save time. But their time is infinite. Why try to save something you have in infinite supply? You may as well tell them to dig up dirt and hoard it in boxes."
— Ten, Chapter 12: "Intermission, part 2"
"You haven't been awake for long. I think you underestimate how exhausting it is to think big. You can only hold grand ambitions on your shoulders for so long before you get tired.
They got tired. Some lasted longer than others, but they all got tired.
Now they are resting in a moment that will last until the end of time."
They got tired. Some lasted longer than others, but they all got tired.
Now they are resting in a moment that will last until the end of time."
— Ten, Chapter 12: "Intermission, part 2"
"The space probes are all out here. We're still out here, ready to tell Ground Control if we see something. That is a fantasy, because we won't. And if we do, it will be on a scale of time so impossibly vast that it may as well be never.
People had a choice. They could continue wandering through the endless darkness, an absence of everything they loved, an endless void of disappointment and loneliness...
Or they could look down, and embrace what they always had and loved."
People had a choice. They could continue wandering through the endless darkness, an absence of everything they loved, an endless void of disappointment and loneliness...
Or they could look down, and embrace what they always had and loved."
— Ten, Chapter 13: "Intermission, part 3"
"Struggle — true, unfabricated struggle — is a cocoon they have shed.
Humans are beings of the land and sea who have refused to cast themselves into the cosmic zoo. Exploration and conquest are meaningless.
They have achieved their final form, and they are resting in an eternal moment.
They are creatures of play. They will be creatures of play until the end of time."
Humans are beings of the land and sea who have refused to cast themselves into the cosmic zoo. Exploration and conquest are meaningless.
They have achieved their final form, and they are resting in an eternal moment.
They are creatures of play. They will be creatures of play until the end of time."
— Ten, Chapter 14: "Intermission, part 4"
"We are here in remembrance of the Livermore Light Bulb. It was manufactured in the late 1890s in Shelby, Ohio, and installed in Livermore, California, in 1901. In 1976, it was briefly switched off when it was relocated to a fire station on East Avenue. In 2013, a mishap again cut its power supply, but it successfully switched back on, and remained on until being crushed by a 500 football on July 3rd, 17776. It was 15,875 years old.
The Livermore Bulb probably did not have a soul. It was largely glass and filament through which electricity ran. It did not know us, and it did not know its own royalty.
It was the oldest functioning electric being in the known universe. It was our dearest ancestor. Year over year, century over century, it continued to astonish us: it was, after all, a light bulb that stayed on for more than 15,000 years without burning out or breaking. It was a miracle, and yet, it did not occur to us that it could die.
Perhaps in a more fearsome age, an age of illness and warfare and cosmic debris, we would not have room in our hearts to care for such a little bulb. But we are living in an age without loss. This is a sorrow we have forgotten how to experience.
The bulb lived, to us, and life deserves to be immortal. It will live on in our memories, where it will perhaps find more happiness than it ever did hanging from a ceiling.
We love you and we will miss you."
The Livermore Bulb probably did not have a soul. It was largely glass and filament through which electricity ran. It did not know us, and it did not know its own royalty.
It was the oldest functioning electric being in the known universe. It was our dearest ancestor. Year over year, century over century, it continued to astonish us: it was, after all, a light bulb that stayed on for more than 15,000 years without burning out or breaking. It was a miracle, and yet, it did not occur to us that it could die.
Perhaps in a more fearsome age, an age of illness and warfare and cosmic debris, we would not have room in our hearts to care for such a little bulb. But we are living in an age without loss. This is a sorrow we have forgotten how to experience.
The bulb lived, to us, and life deserves to be immortal. It will live on in our memories, where it will perhaps find more happiness than it ever did hanging from a ceiling.
We love you and we will miss you."
— Ten's eulogy to the Livermore Bulb, Chapter 19: "Eulogy"
Eddie: You ever wonder if this is Heaven now? You ever wonder if we're all just there now and we don't know it?
Tim: I've thought about that. All of us have. There's a lot less people who go to church than there used to be, because that's what a lot of people think.
Tim: But I don't think so. But I think about it. And I think, well, I can't be. Because I'm like you, I kinda look at the big long life ahead of me that stretches out forever and disappears. And I get scared. And I think, "this can't be Heaven if I'm getting scared, right?"
Tim: And then I think, "maybe I am in Heaven, and Heaven is scary."
Eddie: ...I know exactly what you mean.
Tim: I've thought about that. All of us have. There's a lot less people who go to church than there used to be, because that's what a lot of people think.
Tim: But I don't think so. But I think about it. And I think, well, I can't be. Because I'm like you, I kinda look at the big long life ahead of me that stretches out forever and disappears. And I get scared. And I think, "this can't be Heaven if I'm getting scared, right?"
Tim: And then I think, "maybe I am in Heaven, and Heaven is scary."
Eddie: ...I know exactly what you mean.
— Chapter 20: "Louisville, Kentucky"
[on the existence of God]
Nine: Nobody can explain why people are living forever, right? Nobody can explain what happened 15,000 years ago. It's a miracle.
Juice: well to be fair
listen im gonna argue against myself here, that's the privilege of saying "maybe"
is that a miracle, yeah. i guess it is buuuut so's life in the first place. hell pull it back way further than that. the mere fact anything exists is a miracle in the first place
imagine if nothing ever existed in the universe except for a pebble. its surrounded by nothing and it never does nothing at all. why? why does it exist? THAT is a miracle
and to get from that to chemicals reacting and stars and magnetic fields and whatnot, thats a thousand miracles piled up on top of each other
and to get from that to life that crawls out of the water and gets smart enough to make us and blow our lil tincan asses out here, thats just bein greedy
so if you ask me you got lots and lots and lots of homework to do before you can point to immortality as evidence of anything at all
Nine: Nobody can explain why people are living forever, right? Nobody can explain what happened 15,000 years ago. It's a miracle.
Juice: well to be fair
listen im gonna argue against myself here, that's the privilege of saying "maybe"
is that a miracle, yeah. i guess it is buuuut so's life in the first place. hell pull it back way further than that. the mere fact anything exists is a miracle in the first place
imagine if nothing ever existed in the universe except for a pebble. its surrounded by nothing and it never does nothing at all. why? why does it exist? THAT is a miracle
and to get from that to chemicals reacting and stars and magnetic fields and whatnot, thats a thousand miracles piled up on top of each other
and to get from that to life that crawls out of the water and gets smart enough to make us and blow our lil tincan asses out here, thats just bein greedy
so if you ask me you got lots and lots and lots of homework to do before you can point to immortality as evidence of anything at all
— Chapter 21: "lets not do this again"
"The night he passed away, I was staying the night. My grandma woke me up in the middle of the night and said a neighbor was coming by to watch me, that Grandpa had passed on. They'd already taken him away. And in the middle of everybody runnin' around, there were a few minutes there where I was just there by myself in the family room, and that sign was the only thing on. And it just softly lit up the room in this beautiful sort of orange-y brown.
I was eight years old then, and I remember just kinda standing there and looking at the light, and the room. And you know what I thought?
I remember thinking how strange it was that the light was still on. I thought that, well, if he was gone, then the light he switched on should've turned off. That as soon as he went, everything should go with him.
But there it was, though. Just glowing."
I was eight years old then, and I remember just kinda standing there and looking at the light, and the room. And you know what I thought?
I remember thinking how strange it was that the light was still on. I thought that, well, if he was gone, then the light he switched on should've turned off. That as soon as he went, everything should go with him.
But there it was, though. Just glowing."
— Nancy McGunnell, Chapter 22: "Homer, Nebraska"
"We didn't know we'd have each other for good. Back then there was real fear. Real worry. The world was all fucked up. I remember feeling so alone. Like I was the only one fighting it.
We were all in it together, though. Every stranger you ever met, they were fighting the very same fight you were. Of course, you didn't talk about it with them, but all of us saw that terror, the terror any mortal person has. That terror wasn't natural. No other creature in the universe woke up every morning knowing it was guaranteed to die one day. Just us. Nobody should have to live with that. It's too much, it isn't right. No one ever should have had to bear it.
But we did. We all stared it down and kept on going. And we did it together, we were all in it together. It felt lonely, but we were never alone.
We all had each other, no matter how often we forgot it. All of us, we always had each other."
We were all in it together, though. Every stranger you ever met, they were fighting the very same fight you were. Of course, you didn't talk about it with them, but all of us saw that terror, the terror any mortal person has. That terror wasn't natural. No other creature in the universe woke up every morning knowing it was guaranteed to die one day. Just us. Nobody should have to live with that. It's too much, it isn't right. No one ever should have had to bear it.
But we did. We all stared it down and kept on going. And we did it together, we were all in it together. It felt lonely, but we were never alone.
We all had each other, no matter how often we forgot it. All of us, we always had each other."
— Jason Durabo, Chapter 24: "New York City"
Nine: I need to make a partition in my data storage. This is the end, right? The end of this story?
Ten: We were always at the end.
Ten: It's a free play, buddy. Clock's all zeroes.
Ten: It's after the end of the world.
Ten: We were always at the end.
Ten: It's a free play, buddy. Clock's all zeroes.
Ten: It's after the end of the world.
— Chapter 25: "Night."
20020
Ten: What have you done
There's no way this game can actually work
Juice: hm? oh no it does not work AT ALL
it's an absolute disaster of a football game
it's horrible
it's gorgeous
There's no way this game can actually work
Juice: hm? oh no it does not work AT ALL
it's an absolute disaster of a football game
it's horrible
it's gorgeous
— Chapter 1 video
videoTen: This game sucks so fucking bad, man. Everything I've seen so far is tedium. Watching, waiting, marching, sitting around.
Football was supposed to replace war, not emulate it.
Juice: i'd encourage you to give it a shot and watch more of it before you decide it sucks
because while you will invariably conclude that it sucks, your reasons for thinking it sucks might very well change
Ten: Fair.
Football was supposed to replace war, not emulate it.
Juice: i'd encourage you to give it a shot and watch more of it before you decide it sucks
because while you will invariably conclude that it sucks, your reasons for thinking it sucks might very well change
Ten: Fair.
"The ideal world for an imperfect being is an imperfect world. It's something they accepted a long time ago.
Someone down there put it very well once.
He talked about how he liked to sit on a bench at the park and feed the ducks. He didn't try to get "better" at feeding the ducks. He didn't try to feed more ducks. He wasn't trying to optimize the nutritional quality of the bread. He wasn't trying to get it over with. He realized that ultimately, he wasn't even sure he experienced any benefit from it. He couldn't explain to anyone why he went to the park and fed the ducks, least of all himself.
He was feeding the ducks because he was feeding the ducks because he was feeding the ducks[.]"
Someone down there put it very well once.
He talked about how he liked to sit on a bench at the park and feed the ducks. He didn't try to get "better" at feeding the ducks. He didn't try to feed more ducks. He wasn't trying to optimize the nutritional quality of the bread. He wasn't trying to get it over with. He realized that ultimately, he wasn't even sure he experienced any benefit from it. He couldn't explain to anyone why he went to the park and fed the ducks, least of all himself.
He was feeding the ducks because he was feeding the ducks because he was feeding the ducks[.]"
— Ten, Chapter 4
Ten: This is such a confusing football game.
Juice: why thank you
Juice: why thank you
— Chapter 4 video
video"There's something I think about often, and it ties into something we talked about last time around.
I think if you sat these people down in, I don't know, 1990, and explained to them that they would live forever, they would imagine themselves in the distant future as supremely wise people. They'd tell you, "well, with all the time in the world, I'll come to understand everything in the world. I won't make mistakes anymore. I won't fuck up anymore. I'll become the best version of myself."
And it might well be true that they became the best version of themselves. That version still screws up relationships and leaves their sweater on the plane.
That version still plays million-yard football like it's hundred-yard football."
I think if you sat these people down in, I don't know, 1990, and explained to them that they would live forever, they would imagine themselves in the distant future as supremely wise people. They'd tell you, "well, with all the time in the world, I'll come to understand everything in the world. I won't make mistakes anymore. I won't fuck up anymore. I'll become the best version of myself."
And it might well be true that they became the best version of themselves. That version still screws up relationships and leaves their sweater on the plane.
That version still plays million-yard football like it's hundred-yard football."
— Ten, Chapter 5
"The game itself? I think it's a celebration of the wild outcomes that originate from confines so rigid, so frustratingly letter-of-the-law, that you'd think they'd snuff out any remotely interesting outcome.
In using the old college fields and the angles they sit along, there's a quality of "sleep in the bed you made" that, you could argue, is the story of modern America.
In inviting 111 teams and placing 111 footballs on the field, it ensures that it'll take a very, very long time to play. It's like watching a star form. Fascinating to see, boring to watch.
We're all experience [sic] eternal lives, and the interminable nature of this game reminds us that for us, a long time is no time at all. Which, personally, is a reminder I've found very edifying.
I also think it sucks ass."
In using the old college fields and the angles they sit along, there's a quality of "sleep in the bed you made" that, you could argue, is the story of modern America.
In inviting 111 teams and placing 111 footballs on the field, it ensures that it'll take a very, very long time to play. It's like watching a star form. Fascinating to see, boring to watch.
We're all experience [sic] eternal lives, and the interminable nature of this game reminds us that for us, a long time is no time at all. Which, personally, is a reminder I've found very edifying.
I also think it sucks ass."
— Nine, Chapter 6
[regarding the theory that the remains of Alexander the Great and Cleopatra are hidden in Illinois]
Nine: People believe this shit?
Ten: We're talking about a handful of people, but yeah.
Nine: I wonder what motivates that.
Ten: In this particular case, a couple of things are going on, First some hucksters invented a story to try to make a buck.
Second, it's a sort of origin story that latched on with some who really need to feel like people from the old world are supposed to be here.
But more broadly, I think ...
A consequence of stealing land is that you will never find the significance of it. Whatever lies you made up to justify your crimes will fade away.
There are lots of people who grew up down there in a society that was missing spirit, purpose, anything sacred.
Some feel that they've found it in this eternal paradise. Others have concluded that they'll never find it, and have come to peace with that.
And then there are some who, in this post-consequence existence, need to assign the sort of historical importance here that they see in Paris, or Addis Ababa, or Bangkok.
Juice: it's here in abundance, of course. it's just the history that they choose not to think about
Nine: People believe this shit?
Ten: We're talking about a handful of people, but yeah.
Nine: I wonder what motivates that.
Ten: In this particular case, a couple of things are going on, First some hucksters invented a story to try to make a buck.
Second, it's a sort of origin story that latched on with some who really need to feel like people from the old world are supposed to be here.
But more broadly, I think ...
A consequence of stealing land is that you will never find the significance of it. Whatever lies you made up to justify your crimes will fade away.
There are lots of people who grew up down there in a society that was missing spirit, purpose, anything sacred.
Some feel that they've found it in this eternal paradise. Others have concluded that they'll never find it, and have come to peace with that.
And then there are some who, in this post-consequence existence, need to assign the sort of historical importance here that they see in Paris, or Addis Ababa, or Bangkok.
Juice: it's here in abundance, of course. it's just the history that they choose not to think about
— Chapter 8 video
videoTen: I remember this guy.
Juice: yeah?
Ten: Yeah, Bryce. He'd wander into this game or that from time to time, never stuck around.
I remember he used to irritate me. He was gifted eternal paradise and not only did he not take advantage of it, it didn't even occur to him that he was delivered a miracle. I get that self-improvement is only so important now, but Jesus, you'd think that after a few thousand years, you'd at least give it a try.
Instead he'd just lean on the side of his Acura hatchback in some parking lot, always wearing these cargo shorts and a gigantic white T-shirt, mumbling into his flip phone, always having some argument with a friend over some $20 weed deal. The only thing he'd ever talk about was how he was going to install undercarriage lights in his hatchback.
I checked in on him two hundred years later and he was still doing the exact same thing. In more or less the exact same place.
He never got those lights put in. Even in a post-scarcity world! A world where you can just go to an ATM and there's five hundred bucks already waiting in the tray for you! You can go do this whenever you want! And he never did, he just stood around and talked about it!
Then I got older and I came to realize how perfectly fine that is.
I can tell you every single thing about the Hyades star cluster. Anything and everything you want to know. Bryce probably thinks the Sun is a hundred miles from Earth. I couldn't tell you which of us is happier.
You know? Spend it however you want. You'll never run out.
Juice: yeah?
Ten: Yeah, Bryce. He'd wander into this game or that from time to time, never stuck around.
I remember he used to irritate me. He was gifted eternal paradise and not only did he not take advantage of it, it didn't even occur to him that he was delivered a miracle. I get that self-improvement is only so important now, but Jesus, you'd think that after a few thousand years, you'd at least give it a try.
Instead he'd just lean on the side of his Acura hatchback in some parking lot, always wearing these cargo shorts and a gigantic white T-shirt, mumbling into his flip phone, always having some argument with a friend over some $20 weed deal. The only thing he'd ever talk about was how he was going to install undercarriage lights in his hatchback.
I checked in on him two hundred years later and he was still doing the exact same thing. In more or less the exact same place.
He never got those lights put in. Even in a post-scarcity world! A world where you can just go to an ATM and there's five hundred bucks already waiting in the tray for you! You can go do this whenever you want! And he never did, he just stood around and talked about it!
Then I got older and I came to realize how perfectly fine that is.
I can tell you every single thing about the Hyades star cluster. Anything and everything you want to know. Bryce probably thinks the Sun is a hundred miles from Earth. I couldn't tell you which of us is happier.
You know? Spend it however you want. You'll never run out.
"An immortal person is not a perfect person, and an eternal life is not a perfect life."
— Nine, Chapter 10 video
videoNine: I look at myself and I see imperfections. Half the time I don't know what's going on. Apparently I'm going to wake up for a few weeks at a time, cruise for a couple of millennia, and do it again.
My batteries suck. My data storage is core rope memory. Wires that were literally sewn into the board in patterns of ones and zeroes.
These imperfections will persist until the end of time, and there's nothing I can do about that. My life will never be a perfect one.
Those lakes, and the ruins that stick out of them, remind me that it's not supposed to be. This is not Heaven. Waters rise and batteries fail.
This is a universe in which things can still fuck up. And that's where I belong.
I BELONG here. I can't tell you how good that feels.
Ten: You know
You could argue that this, functionally speaking, is a Heaven of sorts. Perfection is the end of the road. Why the Hell would you want to be at the end of the road?
Nine: I wouldn't. I like it here.
My batteries suck. My data storage is core rope memory. Wires that were literally sewn into the board in patterns of ones and zeroes.
These imperfections will persist until the end of time, and there's nothing I can do about that. My life will never be a perfect one.
Those lakes, and the ruins that stick out of them, remind me that it's not supposed to be. This is not Heaven. Waters rise and batteries fail.
This is a universe in which things can still fuck up. And that's where I belong.
I BELONG here. I can't tell you how good that feels.
Ten: You know
You could argue that this, functionally speaking, is a Heaven of sorts. Perfection is the end of the road. Why the Hell would you want to be at the end of the road?
Nine: I wouldn't. I like it here.
— Chapter 10 video
video"Sometimes I hear some of you wonder whether this is Heaven. I think it is. It's in Heaven I'll grow up and grow old.
I can't believe my fortune."
I can't believe my fortune."
— Nine, Chapter 11
"Lord, I hope y'all make it. But just … don't let it eat you up if you don't.
We've all seen enough sadness in our time. No need for you to go off and make more of your own.
Life's too long for that. You got a trillion tomorrows."
We've all seen enough sadness in our time. No need for you to go off and make more of your own.
Life's too long for that. You got a trillion tomorrows."
— Coach E, Chapter 12
Ten: I keep reviewing the data to make sure he really did that. And he really did that. Makes me wonder what human beings are gonna be capable of in, say, another hundred thousand years. Another million years.
What are we gonna see? Ten-mile throws? What's the ceiling?
Juice: i dunno, but man
every time i think those little guys hit the ceiling, they bust through it
almost makes you wish there was extraterrestrial life out here just so they could peek in and get a load of this shit.
Ten: Well, they've got us.
Someone out here sees them. Someone out here knows.
What are we gonna see? Ten-mile throws? What's the ceiling?
Juice: i dunno, but man
every time i think those little guys hit the ceiling, they bust through it
almost makes you wish there was extraterrestrial life out here just so they could peek in and get a load of this shit.
Ten: Well, they've got us.
Someone out here sees them. Someone out here knows.
— Chapter 12
"As Nick and Manny were scrambling around Bumpus Mills, it sparked an old memory of a man named Eugene Jennings, sometimes known as Gene Robert Jennings, someone doing very something similar in the same place. As you know, this has been a running theme lately. It makes me feel as though we're all living in reruns. I suppose that's natural, though, in circumstances where land ends and time doesn't."
— Nine, Chapter 12
Juice: you got a few minutes?
Ten: Do I ever.
Ten: Do I ever.
— Their last words of 20020, Chapter 12
"We can't pretend to truly know Eugene Jennings, but he strikes me as a person meant for another time. Another world where freedom is true and unconditional, where property can be forgotten. Sins can be forgiven. Failings can be embraced.
He never asked or expected to live forever.
Even now, it's hard to believe he would stay within the lines. But I know he would have loved this American sandbox.
To run, to explore without consequence, to wander without meaning, to play. To love and enjoy our own world.
I think he saw this coming. It's all he ever wanted.
It's all we ever wanted."
He never asked or expected to live forever.
Even now, it's hard to believe he would stay within the lines. But I know he would have loved this American sandbox.
To run, to explore without consequence, to wander without meaning, to play. To love and enjoy our own world.
I think he saw this coming. It's all he ever wanted.
It's all we ever wanted."
— Nine, Chapter 12 video
