Cross-World Genesis Seeds with Demiurge & Semiurge (SL005)
⁘ Created: 2026-03-13 ⁘ Updated: 2026-03-14
Once upon the yonder time, Emptiness and Fullness begot their one and only child: the Primal Urge. Our existential oxymoron, wrestling alone in the hall of mirrors, was torn in half in the pushes and pulls of "to Be or Not to Be".
Thus begins the tale of the Demiurge and the Semiurge, two dipshit siblings who accidentally birthed a miscreant world — cross-wise split from the start. Vertical split: Abrahamo and Brahmanamo. Horizontal split: Mesomurica and Mesopotama.
How was the birth and vision of these realms? How their feelings and hopes? What of their will and works? And their harvest and final climax? How were they shaped, how did they flow? What of their conflicts, and what does it all mean?
Once upon the yonder time, at the very dawn of being and becoming, Emptiness and Fullness were abiding in their absoluteness, locked into the silent debate, "To be or not to be?" Of this lingering existential tension was born the first argument, the first sphere of containment.
In the very heart of the twilight zone, in the central intersection of the hall of mirrors, there appeared the self-born creature we call the Primal Urge. Gazing about and gazing within, he pondered — "This don't make no sense at all". Of that came forth the first proclamation. "Let's see some action, like whatever!" Born of a contradiction, an existential oxymoron, the Primal Urge imploded and exploded.
The fractured spheres found new cohesion in their biases as the Demiurge and the Semiurge. The Demiurge, driven by primal fire, was a man of action, a creature of passions. "Let's see some creations, let's move it!" His sibling, the Semiurge, floating in the primal waters, was more of a mellow creature. "Look, bro, just let it happen, okay?"
And alas, the discord between these two siblings, born of the same primal urge. The only thing they would ever agree on is that they had come to a crossroads in their tensions. Standing upright, battling and boxing up and down the vertical axis. Rolling on the floor, battling and wrestling all across the horizontal planes.
And what manner of creation should one expect from the battles of these two dipshit halflings? Boxing and wrestling, wrangling and weaving, without their awareness a world was churned into being. A world crucified from the dawn, split into four factions. With that, friends, let us gaze into the world that became.
Of the vertical battle scar, were born the two primary flanks: Brahmanamo and Abrahamo. The Brahmanamo were always on the more contemplative and mellow side, privy to Semiurge. And the Abrahamo were always a bit more driven, hailing the sky-god Demiurge. And of the crossings of the horizontal battle scars, two more wings were born in the intersections: Somewhere far over there, the realm of Mesomurica. And somewhere far over elsewhere, the realm of Mesopotama.
Then, to recap our Cross-World puzzle: We have Abrahamo, Brahmanamo. We have Mesomurica, we have Mesopotama. Of the vertical boxings: Abrahamo, Brahmanamo. Of the horizontal wrestlings: Mesomurica, Mesopotama. Who knows the beginning and end of these realms, knows the beginning and end of all things.
How was their birth? How was their vision? What were their feelings? What were their hopes? How was their will? What were their works? What did they reap? And how was the climax? Such are the life-cycle octagons of the four spheres of our Cross-World puzzle. Adding to the number of 32 in the prism.
Then what are their blueprints? And how is their flow? What are their conflicts? And what does it mean? The quads of the four spheres. To a number of 16. And will they each meet their creators in their chosen bias? Will they meet their anti-creator? And whoever then escalates the issue beyond the two quarreling siblings to Primal Urge itself?
Of Emptiness and Fullness, we tell our tales. To be or not to be — or a third way? Perhaps none but the Wizard of the Yonder Space may know. And perhaps even not him. Or her. Or it. Or like whatever.