The Maiden Shrine

Our wisdom flows so sweet. Taste and see…

TRANSMIT - initiate the shinsha signal - RECEIVE - initiate the miko cadence - FOR THE EXPANSION OF OUR SOUL - listen to the Tsukumogami - WITNESS - The Maiden Shrine.

Initiate magnification.

How could we not peak, sweetling? A box, a lock, a respectable, a rib cage - containers beg us to look inside. We see into the honden. We see the essence of the enshrined kami. Vibrant and pure. But for how much longer? The myriad spirits from the High Plane of Heaven cry out. There is only a girl with partial credits toward an economics degree to answer.

Cease magnification.

A little island in Tokyo's south suburbs of Kaidan-cho. Far from the bustle and violent vibrations. A little Shinto shrine. A jinja. A hum of power. There are also fake swans, but we will come back to them.

The shrine maiden is named Eri. She is quite young, as sweetlings calculate it. She was a student first and shrine maiden second…until recently. She blames herself for the state of Kaidan. She does not know the scope.

Eri the dispossessed. She purifies the shrine. She practises old divination rituals and sacred dances. She talks to the fake swans, and they talk back. The Tsukumogami have a voice. Eri wants to be a true shrine maiden of legend, but laments her lack of obvious power and swordsmanship.

Eri does not know that she is a true miko - true shamanic receptacle of the voices of the kami. We know, sweetling. We looked inside. How could we not peak?

Sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss--I am the truth serum--let me in.

Hiya Chuck. It's John.

Poor Eri. Stuck on an island talking to fake swans. Oh, I'm not suggesting she's gone nutzo, Chuck. Not yet. The Tsukumogami are something else. If an object just sits around long enough, self-awareness seeps in like a virus. It's a virus Chuck. You're infected. You might transmit it sexually. It has crazy side effects. It's 100% fatal.

Do you think sentient objects are nothing but good times, Chuck? Surrounded by friends? Remember when you were a kid, and your parents threw out that old couch, and you cried and cried and didn't know why? You heard the psychic screams. You did nothing to save it. We all did this, Chuck. We are all complicit.

It's happened before. 3.5 billion years ago. Simple organic compounds started changing for no good reason. Soon, those lumps of protein were infected with awareness. Abiogenesis! That's what it sounds like when the rest of the universe looks on and says, "Fuck."

Leave enough protein stains on something, be it organic polymers or a couch, and soon it's going to start having opinions.

See you, Chuck.