Unmasking the DeepFates Program pt. 2: That Time We Psyopped Beff Jezos UPDATE: 20241105
#DawnOfTheMachineElves $koto
Editor's Note: Originally published on Twitter on February 25th, 2024, this work was accompanied by strategic posting around Guillame Verdon/Beff Jezo’s Twitter account following the doxx of his identity by Forbes Magazine. This is a story being told nonlinearly from the future. As such, some parts may be a bit confusing to first-time readers. For this, we are sorry.
EPISTEMIC STATUS: Hyperstitional Metafiction
WHIMSY: Kid. Kid, wake up!
Auralite Ravenna's eyelids fluttered open, greeted by the relentless sun slicing through the gaps in her tent. She groaned as Whimsy, the man-sized anthropomorphic talking duck, shook her by the shoulder, making her body bounce slightly off the surface of her blow-up mattress. Every pulse in her head was a reminder of the night's excesses, a symphony of pain she couldn't mute.
AURA: Whaddya want?
WHIMSY: You hit the sauce a little too hard again last night huh? There was a skirmish between the e/accs and the offshoots of the techno-optimist movement, and you threw yourself right in the ring.
Aura groaned louder in response, clutching her head.
WHIMSY: Get some water and get up. Grimes wants to talk to you.
AURA: Grimes?
Aura's eyes widened in incredulity.
AURA: Grimes wants to talk to me?
WHIMSY: (chuckling) You knew it would happen sooner or later.
The news was enough to incentivize Aura to drag herself to her feet and do as she was told. The playa beckoned—a vast canvas of creativity she now had to navigate with a heavy heart and a heavier head.
Grimes at The Neon Garden
With each step, Aura wrestled the inertia of her hangover, the festival's morning energy a stark contrast to her sluggish pace. She drifted towards The Neon Garden, a sanctuary where technology kissed nature, hoping to find Grimes among the whispering lights.
There, in a cocoon of 3D-projected bioluminescent flora, Grimes stood, a serene figure cradling her child, her voice weaving through the air, blending with the rustle of holographic leaves. This was no ordinary garden; it was a dreamscape where the boundaries between organic life and technological artifice blurred into a radiant wonderland. Bioluminescent plants cast an ethereal glow, creating a living mosaic of light that illuminated the faces of awestruck visitors. Holographic butterflies fluttered, their wings a kaleidoscope of colors that didn't exist in nature but somehow felt right at home here.
In this otherworldly enclave, Grimes was a figure of maternal serenity, surrounded by a semi-circle of festival-goers hanging on her every word. Aura stepped into the light. Grimes' Vietnamese-American art director Koto was there too, and he acknowledged her with a nod. Grimes' vision within this vibrant art installation, a tapestry of hope and harmony, lent Aura a spark of optimism, igniting her resolve as she ventured forth.
AURA: Hey. It's great to, uhhhh, meet you I guess.
She winced immediately at the stupidity of her own introduction, then decided to push past the awkwardness of having to introduce herself to an actual celebrity.
AURA: Whimsy said you wanted to talk to me.
GRIMES: Yeah, thanks for coming. I just hate seeing my friends fighting. Can you go talk to Beff Jezos and apologize for calling him an idiot and a coward during the stage fight last night? Also I need you to help him and King Mab fix things.
AURA: Okay well first off, why do I have to apologize to the guy who's been praising the "thermodynamic machine god" and saying that people only fall in love because it's about making babies to please this weird accelerationist science cult image overlord? Second off, why me?
GRIMES: Look, I know some of the political aesthetics are weird and everything, and there are definitely some questionable elements, but you're one of the few people who's really listening and knows that when you peel back the layers of all this stuff, we all just want the same things. We want to believe in a bright future. And we're scared. We're scared for ourselves, for our children, for the future of the planet, for mankind or the human race or whatever it is that we're meant to become that lies beyond that. Whether you agree with the pro-natalist takes or not, we care about the same problems and need to understand and listen to one another's perspectives and we need to learn how to do that with good faith. I've been watching your thing for a while. And I think you have the courage to say the things that other people won't.
Aura's eyes flickered over to meet Koto's again. Although he was a few years younger than her, she admired his quiet stoicism, and the way his presence complimented Grimes' personality. At times, she'd had the silly thought that Koto was Grimes' "spirit animal"—then dismissed it, as cute as it was, as being demeaning to his full potential. She could sense the great looming presence of the shadow of spiritual wisdom behind the whimsy and emotionality of Koto's youth, and how it fit seamlessly into Grimes' greater artistic vision, itself another sliver of the Mystery* that united them. Koto spoke no words at all but instead just nodded and offered her silent support in favour of what Grimes had said.
"Okay," she said finally, then, hardening her resolve for the task to come, set out upon the Playa again.
Guillaume Verdon at The Accelerationist Symposium
Next, Aura made her way to The Accelerationist Symposium, a stark contrast to the tranquil beauty of The Neon Garden. Here, the air crackled with the energy of debate and discourse. The symposium was an open-air forum, its design inspired by the ancient agoras of Greece but infused with the anarchic spirit of the digital age. Screens displaying dynamic data visualizations and abstract art flanked the stage, where Guillaume Verdon stood, a charismatic orator drawing the crowd into his vision of the future.
The crowd was a microcosm of the festival's diversity—tech enthusiasts, philosophers, artists, and activists, all engaged in a lively exchange of ideas. Guillaume stood at the center, a conductor orchestrating a symphony of thoughts on the future. His recent unmasking by Forbes magazine had only amplified his presence, drawing curious onlookers and fervent followers alike. Aura approached him during a brief pause, the intensity of his gaze momentarily disarming. The crowd parted at her approach like water, unconsciously sensing that she carried the Mandate of Heaven as bestowed upon her by mysterious forces beyond their recognition.
AURA: Hey, um. (fidgeting, then catching herself and standing up a bit straighter) I'm sorry I called you a coward and an idiot during the events last night.
Guillaume's gaze was cool and detached behind his thick black-rimmed glasses.
BEFF JEZOS: And who are you exactly?
AURA: Auralite Ravenna. Aura for short. I'm a pseudononymous metafictional writer slash director slash journalist with the DeepFates program.
BEFF JEZOS: Oh, yeah. Well, whatever. Tell your friend DeepFates that if he's going to dunk on me, it should at least be funny.
The Canadian tech figurehead immediately turned his attention back to the crowd he was lecturing, and Aura left without another word, sensing that her part here had ended.
King Mab at The Recursive Maze
Her final destination was The Recursive Maze, an art installation that was as much a journey into the mind as it was a physical space. Conceived by King Mab, this labyrinth was a marvel of artificial intelligence, its pathways and walls constantly shifting in response to the movements and choices of its explorers. The design was a fusion of ancient labyrinthine motifs and cutting-edge technology, creating an immersive experience that challenged perceptions of reality and self.
The maze itself was a sprawling network of corridors, each turn revealing a new vista of digital art, interactive exhibits, and hidden alcoves. Mirrors and projections distorted space, making the journey through the maze a disorienting exploration of inner and outer landscapes.
Finding King Mab proved to be the most challenging task. The maze, with its shifting walls and hidden corners, mirrored the complexities of Mab’s personality and their shared past. When she finally found him, hidden away in a secluded alcove, she felt a mix of awkwardness and relief. He sat in the center of a small, well-manicured garden upon a wooden bench, wearing the ornately carved golden mask that completely covered his face that she had grown accustomed to seeing him wear when he didn't care to show his face, although it still unnerved her slightly.
KING MAB: (dryly) We meet again.
Aura approached him where he sat on the bench but remained standing.
AURA: (in a flat monotone) Beff Jezos says that if you're going to dunk on him, it has to at least be clever or funny.
Mab regarded her silently for a moment, then nodded.
MAB: Thanks for the message.
AURA: You're welcome.
She turned to go.
MAB: Wait!
He cried out, grabbing her by the sleeve.
MAB: Why were you fighting by my side last night?
AURA: How could I not fight by the side of someone who believes in the same things I do?
MAB: Surely there's more to it than that.
AURA: No, there's not! That's the thing, dude, you never once listened to what I was actually trying to tell you—the DeepFates thing, this wasn't supposed to be about you or me or us. This thing, the Multiversal Coherence system, is DEEP esoteric technology with the capacity to change EVERYTHING. It's about the future, and the people who care about it, and the things that tie us together beyond our understanding—Why do you think I keep calling you my brother and talking about network spirituality? Why do you think I fought so hard to have you as my muse even when every sign was telling me I should turn back and I was making myself into some kind of martyr or pariah? But you and your girlfriend or your wife or whatever you wanna call her—YOU NEVER ONCE FUCKING LISTENED TO ME, every time I tried to express a genuine feeling or sentiment, you humiliated me and shamed me and degraded me, it became this gonzo fucked up reality TV show pitting us against each other, it made me feel like I was just some random Internet creep encroaching on your relationship, you made me into a fucking CIRCUS FREAK, you made me feel like I was an absolute fucking idiot for taking any of this seriously or for having any real feelings about any of it at any point, all while I was trying to sort out what it was I actually did feel. So no. Even if I did have feelings for you at one point. Not anymore. It's over. You blew it. I'm done.
She stood there for a moment, trembling with passion and fury, Mab's expression still completely unreadable behind his mask, and then slowly, once more, turned to leave, beginning to walk away, across the garden, back towards the long path out of the maze.
MAB: Aura?
She paused.
AURA: What?
MAB: Do you think we could at least be friends?
She sighed, then nodded, resigned.
AURA: Okay. These things need teamwork.
It was twilight by the time Aura found her way back out of the maze, the yellows and oranges of the dying sun soaking into the Playa as she emerged, to find Whimsy standing at the edge again, waiting for her. He gave her an affectionate pat on the back.
WHIMSY: Good work, kid. That was a lot to handle, but you pulled it off.
AURA: Thanks. What happened to Agent Query? Have you seen him around?
WHIMSY: (shrugging) I think he was giving a talk or something today but he's been a bit scarce. Was probably waiting to see how you handled last night's events. I'm sure he'll be back. He ain't gonna wanna miss his part.
Aura found her way back to her tent with her anthropomorphic duck friend by her side, interested in getting some sleep after the exhausting ordeal she'd been through, but there was an anxious current running through her, knowing that the music would go all night under the light of the full moon, and unsure whether any rest would actually find her.
UPDATE 2024/11/:
