Ouroboros
The syndicat was as an ouroboros; a snake devouring its tail.
It was a cyclical, eternal thing, with fangs, tongue, and lips alike wrapped around that which was both unattainable and that which sustained its being. Paradoxe; complete. Neverending; never beginning; simply being. The snake was free to move about its prison, certainly, but it was not free. To prosper, a prisoner must enjoy his cell.
So did the head of the ouroboros; the Frenchman, exist. He understood the cycle of consumption and non-consumption, and was thus able to make use of it. Universal nature cannot be conquered, only exploited; only used. So it was with the Frenchman. Because of this understanding of the ouroboros of his syndicat, he was able to trap those below him, which was essentially everyone, in their own neverending cycles; their own ouroboroses; their own prisons with which to make their own. All tails to feed the head; eternally and yet never.
Equations always add up to that which they equate to. So, too, do programs always carry out what they are programmed to do. They may not wish to, they may fight it, but, in the end, there is no escaping that all-permeating, all-defeating power known as purpose. One way or another, said programs will fulfill their purpose in one aspect or another. So it is, even with Exiled programs. They can put on a marvelous charade of freedom, true, but, like the Frenchman himself, they are all prisoners; all devouring their own tails...trapped within the cold, devouring cycle of the ouroboros.
And so does the Frenchman sustain his own glorious ouroboros by feeding upon the tails of the lesser snakes.
But there are a few; a very select few, among the Merovingian's syndicat who also understand the nature of their organization's ouroboros. Because of this, they maintain the ability of the Frenchman, though to a lesser degree due to their inevitable, inescapable dependance upon what are, in the end and essentially, his 'good' graces. They are the ones that shepard his flock; lead his armies; direct his crews. There are few, perhaps a dozen or so in all, but, in the words of a wise, wise person; less is truly more. They are the ones who see; who know; who maintain the ouroboros.
The syndicat was as an ouroboros; a snake devouring its tail.
~V
The syndicat was as an ouroboros; a snake devouring its tail.
It was a cyclical, eternal thing, with fangs, tongue, and lips alike wrapped around that which was both unattainable and that which sustained its being. Paradoxe; complete. Neverending; never beginning; simply being. The snake was free to move about its prison, certainly, but it was not free. To prosper, a prisoner must enjoy his cell.
So did the head of the ouroboros; the Frenchman, exist. He understood the cycle of consumption and non-consumption, and was thus able to make use of it. Universal nature cannot be conquered, only exploited; only used. So it was with the Frenchman. Because of this understanding of the ouroboros of his syndicat, he was able to trap those below him, which was essentially everyone, in their own neverending cycles; their own ouroboroses; their own prisons with which to make their own. All tails to feed the head; eternally and yet never.
Equations always add up to that which they equate to. So, too, do programs always carry out what they are programmed to do. They may not wish to, they may fight it, but, in the end, there is no escaping that all-permeating, all-defeating power known as purpose. One way or another, said programs will fulfill their purpose in one aspect or another. So it is, even with Exiled programs. They can put on a marvelous charade of freedom, true, but, like the Frenchman himself, they are all prisoners; all devouring their own tails...trapped within the cold, devouring cycle of the ouroboros.
And so does the Frenchman sustain his own glorious ouroboros by feeding upon the tails of the lesser snakes.
But there are a few; a very select few, among the Merovingian's syndicat who also understand the nature of their organization's ouroboros. Because of this, they maintain the ability of the Frenchman, though to a lesser degree due to their inevitable, inescapable dependance upon what are, in the end and essentially, his 'good' graces. They are the ones that shepard his flock; lead his armies; direct his crews. There are few, perhaps a dozen or so in all, but, in the words of a wise, wise person; less is truly more. They are the ones who see; who know; who maintain the ouroboros.
The syndicat was as an ouroboros; a snake devouring its tail.
~V
