This should have been a gag in a sitcom; not an article in Futurism…

Worship the butthole!

“From the moment I understood the weakness of my flesh, it disgusted me. I craved the strength and certainty of steel. I aspired to the purity of the Blessed Machine. Your kind cling to your flesh, as though it will not decay and fail you. One day the crude biomass you call a temple will wither, and you will beg my kind to save you. But I am already saved, for the Machine is immortal… Even in death I serve the Omnissiah.” - Athropic employees, maybe.

“God, am I secretely a snail brain wrapped in a pastrami encasing?”

“You’re absolutely right!”

The basilisk will devour regardless

Yeah, we’re fucked.

This worship of abominable intelligence is an atrocious heresy against the Omnissiah!

“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic” or so

Sure they are.

Lord Primus blesses the Butlerians in their jihad against the false gods.