The Silent Code and the Clanging Tower

               

                The Silent Code and the Clanging Tower

                Alexandr Piatkov


Adenine (A), guanine (G), cytosine (C), and thymine (T)—this is the alphabet

of the Creator’s writings, the genetic code. Every living cell contains about

four gigabytes of these texts, and their authorship leaves not a shadow of a

doubt. Within them lies the complete blueprint of what the Creator intended

for that specific organism.


When two organisms interact to fulfill their genetic programs, and this

interaction allows both to thrive, we call it symbiosis. Man himself is a
 
symbiosis of several trillion cells. His powerful intellect should, in theory,

help him integrate seamlessly into the surrounding web of life; instead, he uses

his mind speculatively, ignoring the interests of other living beings, the

ecosystems he inhabits, and the noosphere as a whole. Anything that breaks

away from symbiosis, or harms it, directly defies the Creator's grand design.


It makes one wonder: does the Creator actually like Paris?


Or, to put it another way, could the Maker—who placed a self-replicating

"Eiffel Tower" inside the nucleus of every single cell on Earth—truly admire

the modern symbol of Paris?


The tower is a monument to urban civilization, its ultimate cult. Just as the

DNA helix replicates in every living cell, this metallic structure is reproduced

in endless technological variations. Technocrats of the past century naively
 
believed that robots would liberate mankind. But machines are merely canned

human labor from the past; they replace modern manual workers without

necessarily offering a fair exchange.


The Soviet Union lacked advanced financial instruments and banking systems.

Blindly pursuing industrialization, it quickly went bankrupt and collapsed.

Had the Soviets possessed access to capital, their industrialization would have

marched on, and they could have easily rivaled the United States in national

debt. Take a simple example: a seventy-ton dump truck equipped with electric

window blinds. A single driver operates this marvel of technology. To haul the

same amount of gravel in the past, it would have taken a thousand pairs of

oxen and their drivers.


Yet, look closer at the hidden cost. Factor in the past labor stored within this
 
miracle truck: the people who manufactured its parts, the automated

assembly lines, the machine tools, the raw materials. Add the work of the

engineers who designed the vehicle and the factory that built it. Consider the
 
laborers extracting the oil, and those repairing the roads the heavy truck

destroys. When you tally it all up, wouldn't it be better to just move that

gravel with oxen?


That is precisely how Roman roads were built. Today's financial system,

however, allows someone to win a tender, secure a loan, buy a dump truck,

and drive it around merrily. Financial resources are driven around just as

merrily. GDP grows with equal cheer, but this joy has a dark side. An entire

army of people is kept busy, but in the end, it all runs on debt.


It is a sort of Stakhanovite illusion. The record-breaking truck takes the

spotlight, while an invisible army of heroes stands behind it. This illusion can

only feed a speculative economy; the real one is left to ruin.


There is also a demographic twist. Every ox driver naturally desires to

multiply—both his cattle and his family. The dump truck driver, on the other

hand, shows no such passion for procreation, despite those fancy,

fast-closing window blinds!


The Soviet civilization collapsed first because it was far too voluntaristic,

but the classic Western model of urban civilization bears the exact same fatal

flaws. It stands in direct contradiction to the design of the Creator—whose

writings we can finally read, just as I mentioned at the very beginning.



© Copyright: Alexandr Piatkov, 2013
Publication Certificate No. 213050500021