Library of Babel: Difference between revisions

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One of the [Leaked Emails] hinted at a "library" subdirectory:
One of the [[Leaked E-mails]] hinted at a "library" subdirectory:


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http://perplexcityacademy.com/libraryofbabel/
http://perplexcityacademy.com/libraryofbabel/


A transcript follows:
A transcript follows. The strikethroughs indicate words that are erased in the animation.


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This is not important: I did not kill anyone.  
This is <s>not</s> important: I did not kill anyone.  
I have not killed anyone.  
I have not killed anyone.  
Unless by my silence, by remaining silent too long.  
Unless <s>by my silence,</s> by remaining silent too long.  
But I can’t.  
But I can’t.  
I can’t.  
I can’t.  

Revision as of 16:46, 27 August 2006

One of the Leaked E-mails hinted at a "library" subdirectory:

From: Garnet Reed To: Henrik Tanner Subject: Internal Security Sent: 17 August 2006 06.54pm

Well, there's some 'library of something or other' subdirectory off the main path, for example. I only saw it for a split second and I couldn't get into it, but it clearly doesn't belong there, whatever it is.

This led to a hidden page:

http://perplexcityacademy.com/libraryofbabel/

A transcript follows. The strikethroughs indicate words that are erased in the animation.

Waking. It was like waking into a new world from a dream of all the old. Or. No. Like opening my eyes although I knew they were already open.

For a moment I thought I could see… everything.

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This is not important: I did not kill anyone. I have not killed anyone. Unless by my silence, by remaining silent too long. But I can’t. I can’t.

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I must continue in silence because what would I say, how would I convince anyone of what I tell you now?

That I did not kill anyone.

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But someone did.

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There are so many possibilities, numberless scenarios and how do I know? How can I know which one is the truth? Like the books in the Library of Babel, each permutation may be the correct one, but is infinitely more likely to be deceptive. A phantom. A dream.

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I thought it was a dream. Or a beautiful simulation of a place I have seen so many times before in photographs or video. I knew it at once: the yellow cars driven along the streets, the steam rising up from the sidewalk gratings. I thought: how marvellous. How real. I stumbled and fell. I grazed my hand and the blood was real and the pain was real and I began to understand.

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I didn’t kill anyone. But someone did. And they’ll be looking for me.