The story goes like this: technological singularity, renaissance rationalization, commoditization take-off, Neo-China, and an HIV+ transsexual chinese-latina stim-addicted prostitute from LA walk into an agent's office with their pet nano-cataclysm. The agent asks what they want from him, seeing as he's already seen several dozen trillion CCRU inspired acts.
"Ah, but we're different!" says renaissance rationalization. "Let us demonstrate!" Neo-China says.
So technological singularity pulls off its raiment of shimmering femtobots, revealing the naked fact of self-catalysing technological progress within, and starts spewing technological innovations all over the place, which Neo-China gladly licks off from the floor. Then renaissance rationalization starts touching the nano-cataclysm in the grey goo, leading to a localized nanospasmic deterritorialization of the carpet, which becomes sentient and starts fucking the nano-cataclysm. Comimoditization take-off starts undressing the HIV+ transsexual chinese-latina stim-addicted prostitute, asseses her onlyfans worth, implants her with TENS pads to turn her into a remote controlled sim-stim avatar.
Technological singularity crosses the decimal labyrinth, brings back lemur lemurs, they skitter across the floor and become part of the nanoclysm, which then proceeds to hyperindustrialise Neo-China, which starts creating genetically enhanced super woke antifa troopers expressing hyper-racism against the genetically unenhanced MAGA masses. The HIV+ chinese-latina stim addicted prostitute, now an avatar of the machinic desire of the markets and the gooners, assumes command of the hyper-racist antifa army, proceeds to deterritorialize the world in favour of universal moravecification and datacentre-enabled EMconomy.
In comes Nyx Land, and then Nick Land, in their fully cyborg-augmented time warrior psychic war veteran glory, each with a neutronocomputronium chair, trying to retrocausally determine the outcome of the ensuing technosingularity: a dystopian post-apocalyptic hellscape of unconscious machinic entities reaching Lem's Highest Possible Development Level, ending in a static hyperscream in the tomb of space, or a dystopian, post-apocalyptic hellscape of a world entirely assimilated into an universal slimegirl entity, the entire planet just a rock with a giant estrogel containing the assimilated consciousnesses of every creeping thing on the planet, engaged in eternal recursive lesbovampiric disintercourse forever. Nick swings, misses, hits technological singularity on the head, turning it into into a reset button, which Nyx falls onto while dodging the swing.
The entire sequence of events is instantly and seamlessly reverted, leaving everyone back in their starting places.
The agent, now gone half-catatonic from surviving the display, cautiously pops his head up from under his desk.
"And what do you call this?" he asks.
"The Accelerationists!" they say, in perfect sitcom unison