Why the Druid Wears a Hoodie

Finn and the Fine Art of Knowing Too Much

 

So, it turns out that the modern “druid” isn’t actually into oak trees, mistletoe, or chanting in the rain. He’s into Procedure Monism — which, believe me, is less about sacrificing goats and more about sacrificing illusions.

The name druid, Finn claims, means “the one who knows firmly.” (Apparently the oak tree was just an early metaphor for bandwidth.) In ancient times, the druids were the Iron Age equivalent of Google: they stored data, interpreted law, ran the calendar, and occasionally told kings what not to do — a habit that, then as now, rarely ended well.

Finn has resurrected the brand, but with an upgrade. His “sacred grove” is a field of quanta. His “ritual” is the procedure by which ignorance is composted into knowledge. He doesn’t sacrifice animals — just bad ideas.

The twist? He deliberately hides behind the archaic epithet druid. Why? Because “modern druid” sounds safely mad. It lets you dismiss him before he ruins your metaphysics. “Systems engineer of existence” would sound threatening; “druid in a cloak” sounds like a selfie opportunity.

It’s camouflage — epistemic camouflage. He’s the cognitive equivalent of a nuclear reactor disguised as a mossy stone. You can walk past him, nod politely, and still keep your dualist worldview intact. Perfectly safe.

And yet, should you linger too long, he might whisper:

“Everyone is God in their space.”

At which point your survival software will immediately reboot, throw an error, and blame the cloak.

So next time you meet a hooded man in Roundwood muttering about procedures, don’t worry. He’s not recruiting. He’s debugging.

And if you ask him what he’s doing, he’ll probably smile and say,

“Ignorance elimination — a local service since the Iron Age.”

 

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