Once there was a strange world called Earth. On this world, when people invented something, they killed each other and everything else copying it madly. As if copied -artifacts- were better than life, learning, progress, wonder, or even existence. The reason was simple: beauty is terrifying to behold, unless, like beauty, one is naked of subterfuge. But these people adored their costumes.

One invention on this world would obliterate billions and billions of lives. A single invention. It would snuff the anciently conserved forests, contaminate every living creature on Earth, and destroy the future by -eating it alive in the present-. Just one. But they had hundreds of thousands like this. And they -just kept making more-… all the while complaining about ‘population’, and other insane accounting damages.

Thankfully, the universe knows something of balance… and thus this strange and lethal world had a twin. On the other world, few copies were ever produced. They invented a car, and it was better than any car that would be invented on Earth. But they never made another one. Because the purpose of inventing the first one was not to burn down their minds and worlds with copies of it.

It was this: to learn to never need cars again. And they succeeded.

And this twin world was connected with Earth through a process the humans ignorantly referred to as nature. But there is -only one process- and their minds -are the the health of that local process- and -as they attack nature- they are burning down their minds. Of course, over there, when an author writes a book, he makes millions of copies and earns ‘millions of blood artifact statue objects’. Over here?

When I write a book, living worlds are saved. And it is never copied in a way that kills. Do you know why? Because I am from the twin world. And the only books I write in are living books. Just like the one I just wrote in. Watch what happens… if you -try to copy- that. I can hardly wait.