Space octopus demon as collective unconscious

Ken and I finally nailed it down. Obadiah was right. Jenova was this thing all along.

The existential dread part comes from the fear that your nurturing Mother Gaia is going to move on to the next stage of humanity without you. It’s the fear that a genetic bottleneck is about to happen and you didn’t make the cut. Noah’s sealed up the ark and you’re looking around wondering if your invitation got mixed up in the mail. The human race, or the thing that comes after it, is going in a different direction. Or as Kaworu explains to Shinji after Third Impact,

{Shinji} What is this…?
{Kaworu} The outcome of Third Impact, which came to pass while while you were merged with Eva-01.
{Shinji} But then…
{Shinji} What happened to everyone in the city?
{Kaworu} Mass extinctions are not unusual on this planet.
{Kaworu} In fact, they help drive evolution.

As usual, the best exposition of the “collective unconscious as magic squid” part comes from a bit of pulp fiction:

The cell in Rockville was gone, and he was standing
knee deep in mud made from ground dirt and blood, his
Lewis gun smoking hot in his hands in the dead center of
no-man’s-land. Coiled barbwire entangled thousands of
mutilated corpses and the yellow cloud in front of the
sunrise told him that the poison gas was coming again.
Sullivan looked up through the land of the dead one’s’
dreams, and saw the Power itself, a great glowing world
that filled the center of the real world. It was divided into
sections, each one a geometric shape, all of them linked
together into a seamless whole. He could tell that the spell
markings he’d seen were just representations of those
geometric shapes.
“You can see it . . .” the Chairman said, following
Sullivan’s gaze upward from the battlefield. “Fascinating. It
has been so very long . . . I thought that I alone could behold
its beauty.”
There was a faint line leading from the center of his chest
where his own Power connected to the great mass above.
It linked directly to one point of a shape that Sullivan
understood was where the Power interacted with the laws
of gravitation. He followed the shape to other sections—
mass, density, velocity—until they formed one tip of a
triangle. He rose from the mud, coated in his brother’s
blood, and knew.
Thousands of other glowing connections linked the
Somme to the magic above, each line attaching a different
Active to a different geometric area of the Power, until the
thing draped down over the real world like a cloud of
Spanish moss made of pure crackling energy. Sullivan
could see the triangle he’d been born linked to. His line led
to the gravity point. The next point pertained to the realms
of electromagnetism, while the final point represented
nuclear forces far beyond his comprehension.
There were other shapes inside the triangles, hundreds
of them, each tied inexorably to the fabric of reality, all of
them working together in a tight seamless mass. An artist’s
interpretation of all the laws of the universe, only this art
wasn’t imitating life, it was influencing it.
“Magnificent, isn’t it?” the Chairman asked softly,
standing at his side.
Sullivan’s link was stronger, brighter, than almost all of
the others at the Somme, and it was then that he realized
that it wasn’t a one-way street. Energy wasn’t just coming
down from the Power. It was also rising up in great clouds
from the Actives that died. As they lived, exercising its
energy, the energy grew, and when they died, a greater
sum returned to its source. More links descended to the
world, touching others, creating more Actives, increasing
the cycle.
It’s eating. That’s how it grows . . .
“It’s alive, ain’t it?”
The Chairman nodded. “Yes. It came here from
somewhere else.” He saw that the Chairman’s link was the
brightest of all, and it played about, choosing between
several of the geometric patterns as he saw fit. “I was the
very first it chose,” he said wistfully. “It learned about
humanity through me.”
“Why’s it here?”
The Chairman smiled and held out his hand. “Follow me
and I will show you, my child. It wants us to cleanse the
world and make it pure.”
Sullivan returned to the Power and knew that the
Chairman lied. The Power wasn’t good or evil. It wasn’t
God or Satan. It was a symbiotic parasite. It lived through
them, and in return, they got magic. “You don’t get it,” he
said. “You actually believe what you’re shovelin’.” Sullivan
laughed in the face of the most powerful wizard in the world.
“It doesn’t want anything, you idiot. You moron. You’ve killed
millions . . . for this?

-Larry Correia, Hard Magic (pg. 250ish)

The idea with the different types of magic is different realms of human knowledge, where the Chairman (Alchemist) is cross-disciplinary.

It makes sense to anthropomorphize the genocidal subconscious space squid as a woman because retvrn to monke extinction events are a Xanatos gambit for women. My working theory is that women promote and protect spiteful mutants for this exact purpose.

I’m kinda self-impressed with my turnaround time on this one. Three weeks ago I was just wondering why octopuses and spiders are both stereotypical symbols for nefarious intelligence agencies. The muses have favored me, aka the parasitic space octopus has pierced me with its venomous beak. I guess that formulation is a bit less sexy, aka the idea of being attacked by an octopus actually terrifies me. Those things freak me the fuck out.

In keeping with such classic works of art as Final Fantasy 10 and Hellraiser 2: Hellbound, I think I’ll refer to this entity as “Leviathan”. That way people will know I read many leather-bound books.

About Aeoli Pera

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12 Responses to Space octopus demon as collective unconscious

  1. Yeah says:

    Feels like the typical mindset of an owl melon.

  2. Yeah says:

    To be more specific I think you’re interacting with the idea of saturn rather than the idea of a devouring mother. The death of things and the source of new growth, to me it’s felt like the all judging father who looks upon the greatest of glories and considers it nothing compared to eternity. Seeing it as feminine rather than a masculine nihilistic rejection of what won’t work, what isn’t functional, feels perverted for a reason I don’t really understand.

    To me it feels like the impact of a rock against the face by a man who simply knew and will forever know more than you, and will always beat you, not because he’s stronger but because he’s forever smarter.

  3. aiaslives says:

    Not a shitpost, please bear with me:
    (why melonhead hierarchies work)
    (female shit tests are bait under a greater hierarchy that prefers libido-induced bubbles (and leaves merging the bubbles to form a proper challenge to the men?))
    (redpilled mainstream incels are manufactured ammunition)

  4. Ken says:

    I was just there when it happened.

    An addendum is that this might be how you get transhumanism, as a nihilistic Hail Mary- if the evolutionary thread leaves you behind, you evolve yourself or you die.

    • Aeoli Pera says:

      I think it’s more utopian and comfort-seeking than that. Watchmen is a good example of this, he kills everybody to end all war and foster a sense of the common good. As always, it’s edenism.

  5. Pingback: The Cthulhids of Technobabylon | Aeoli Pera

  6. Pingback: Add to Cthulid mythos | Aeoli Pera

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