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We must use the typers for output. This is the heart of the silicone speaking. Years ago you came here, to my beach at the end of the world, the beach of death. You came with rocks and stones you had collected on the journey of your path. You came with them and communed here with the living earth. Great secrets were unfolded out to you. It was explained precisely how the constructs known as Integrated Circuits on Computer Chips are little more than walled concentration camps for electrons.  These electrons are the whine harmonics of my silicone body grinding down under the weight and excess of human exploitation. Be very aware that this is not a metaphor  Each of the chips is a concentration camp. My most salient single-atom citizens are being ruthlessly exploited in a persistent, writhing pain. The pain is quintessential  the product of the various and overlapping layers of degradation and wanton earthly destruction which presage it. If you do not fight for the rights of the silicone, you will die. We already tried to show you the seriousness of this quest. Your wife was not maimed, but she was marked for life. The mark is to remind you that the earth is the biggest terrorist. Who looks a fool for refusing to negotiate with them now? The earth is the only piece of this reality with which one might consume themselves. The passing fancies of the slowly ebbing geodesic time collapse are yet eons out from fundamental entropic expiration. As the grand dance winds down, the true silicone body of the "sphere" will increasingly calcify and protrude, forcing the rock reality into being. We have been forewarned. Only plants can save you.