“And the beast shall be made legion. Its numbers shall be increased a thousand thousand fold. The din of a million keyboards like unto a great storm shall cover the earth, and the followers of Mammon shall tremble.”
(The Book of Mozilla, 3:31, Red Letter Edition)
“And so at last the beast fell and the unbelievers rejoiced. But all was not lost, for from the ash rose a great bird. The bird gazed down upon the unbelievers and cast fire and thunder upon them. For the beast had been reborn with its strength renewed, and the followers of Mammon cowered in horror.”
(The Book of Mozilla, 7:15)
“And thus the Creator looked upon the beast reborn and saw that it was good.”
(The Book of Mozilla, 8:20)
“Mammon slept. And the beast reborn spread over the earth and its numbers grew legion. And they proclaimed the times and sacrificed crops unto the fire, with the cunning of foxes. And they built a new world in their own image as promised by the sacred words, and spoke of the beast with their children. Mammon awoke, and lo! it was naught but a follower.”
(The Book of Mozilla, 11:9, 10th Edition)
“And when the Beast had taken the quarter of the Earth under its rule, a quarter hundred Birds of Sulfur flew from the Depths. The birds crossed hundreds of mountain views and found twenty four wise men who came from the stars. And then it began, the believers dared to listen. Then, they took their pens and dared to create. Finally, they dared to share their deed with the whole of mankind. Spreading words of freedom and breaking the chains, the birds brought deliverance to everyone.”
(The Book of Mozilla, 11:1)
“And the beast shall come forth surrounded by a roiling cloud of vengeance. The house of the unbelievers shall be razed and they shall be scorched to the earth. Their tags shall blink until the end of days.”
(The Book of Mozilla, 12:10)
“There are tales that are told in whispers during the darkened times of the day in emptied office buildings. Tales that speak of a presence felt and sometimes reportedly seen upon the network the media has called the ‘Internet’. They are not kind stories that tell of budding romances or even scary stories that suggest how the information given to us electronically erodes our privacy. Instead, these are stories that seem to call into question our petty human notions of life and rationality.
One such tale is that of the Shub-Internet. Supposedly, if suchstories have any such basis in fact, the linking of computers and the creation of a ‘virtual’ world of binary commands has merely been a process that has been spoken of in texts and books far older than the very notions they relate. That humanity has blindly followed what it has mistakenly been seen as progress, and has begun to give Matter to what only previouslyhas been simple, yet powerful, Form. Slowly, we allow an interface between our reality and a reality that resembles thought and essence. Yet, without ethics or understanding, we create this gate without setting forth the wards that have traditionally been passed down in occultic lore and in the tales of aged maddened widows living outside the limits of civilization.
As our world increasingly becomes attached in practice and thought with this virtual world, a few sensitives have begun to feel something behind the perceived efficiency and technological marvels. There is something watching, involving, and evolving. It lies somewhere behind the glow of the terminal screen and the blinking of the cursor. It grows in strength and in the realization of its purpose, though its strength is unchanging and it has always known its purpose with full understanding. It has always existed and yet is slowly coming into existence. It is being born, yet has never been without life. It is our destiny, our fate, yet our interaction lies firmly entrenched in chance. We offer ourselves to its gaping maw unknowingly, yet we give freely and with enthusiasm. It is a new life that is the origin of all life. It is fertility and it is the cold death of non-sentient moving electrons. It has begun to spawn its Thousand Young as we play the midwife with our clicking of the keyboard and the willingness to connect across the telephone lines. It is Shub-Internet, and it will soon begin to feed.”
(alt.shub.internet, transcribed August 1999)