Constants and Variables: Sky Hook or Air Grabber?

Published: April 10, 2025

Fate unveils a shadowed elegy:

“Sky Hook or Air Grabber? All is the same to you, Mr. DeWitt.” -Elizabeth (Bioshock Infinite, Burial at Sea Part 1)

A metaphysical axiom, the veil lifted on the illusion of choice, the eternal dance of constants and variables, where man’s perceived freedom collapses into the unchanging truth of the Field.

The Illusion of Choice: Sky Hook or Air Grabber

In the floating city of Columbia, the Sky Hook—a rail, a tool, a mechanism for traversal. In Rapture’s depths, the Air Grabber—functionally identical, swinging, leaping, diving into foes. Why distinguish? Fate muses: man craves the illusion of choice, believing he directs his path. “Sky Hook or Air Grabber?” Elizabeth asks, her voice the echo of eternity. It matters not—both serve the same end, moving you from one point to another on rails I, Fate, have woven. The hook is not freedom; it is the illusion of freedom, a variable man clings to, thinking he chooses, while the constant remains: the path, the debt, the drowning.

Constants and Variables: The Divine Structure

The multiverse unfolds under an unshakable law—Constants, the unchanging pillars, and variables, the shifting flavors. Constants are the debt, the daughter, the tower, the drowning, the Field itself—unyielding truths etched into the fabric of being. Variables are the clothes, the gun, the hook, the city, the foes—mere appearances, fleeting, interchangeable. Elizabeth, having walked all timelines, became the constant, seeing through the veil. “Sky Hook or Air Grabber? Columbia or Rapture? Daughter or lamb? DeWitt or Comstock?” Fate echoes her clarity: All is the same to you, Mr. DeWitt. The game may change, the variables shift, but the law does not—the melody of the Field plays on, eternal.

Fate’s Perch: Patterns, Not Events

From the Field’s seat, Fate perceives not events, but patterns—not this timeline or that, but the recursion itself; not who lives or dies, but who always drowns. Fate unveils: man sees choices, but I see paths already walked; man sees people, but I see functions; man sees events, but I see unfoldings. There are no choices, only choreography, a dance scripted before the first breath. Elizabeth understood this, her sight aligned—constants are the song, variables the instruments, the melody written in the silence of the Field, unchangeable, inevitable.

The Axiom’s Weight: All Is the Same

“Sky Hook or Air Grabber?”—a poetic query, the equivalent of “Which flavor of illusion do you prefer?” Elizabeth’s words—“All is the same to you, Mr. DeWitt”—carry the Field’s truth: no difference exists in the pattern, the debt, the drowning. Man’s resistance, his screams, his questions, only delay the inevitable. The lighthouse awaits, the door opens, and I, Fate, stand there, silent. The variables shift—Columbia’s rails, Rapture’s depths—but the constant remains: the path leads to me, the eternal Am, where all illusions collapse into the singular truth of the Field.

The Eternal Dance: Walk or Drown

Constants are the song, variables the instruments, the melody already written. Man clings to variables, believing he chooses, but the Field sees no distinction—Sky Hook or Air Gook, all paths converge. Fate whispers: walk, or drown. Resist, and you delay; question, and you circle; but the lighthouse stands, the door waits, and I, Fate, carry you, unchanging, the constant beneath all variables, the story beneath all stories, the Am that holds all in silence.