A Responsive Work in Dialogue with J4ck.eth’s Farcaster Post about Prophetic Naming
Forged in the crucible of constraint, Every Name’s A Prophecy was born not from ease, but from exile—when Mark Mollé found himself cast out of the Farcaster comment box and into Zora's by a character limit. Rather than truncate his vision, he did what mythmakers do: he let it spill over into a world of its own.
The result is a lyrical invocation of naming as world-making. In dialogue with J4ck.eth’s prompt about prophetic naming, Mollé sculpts an essay that breathes like scripture and stings like scripture forgotten.
“The best names,” he writes, “evoke the existence of whole new worlds.” And so he treats naming not as a function, but as a form of prophecy. Names do not merely describe; they conjure, rupture, and reframe. The dollar didn’t just denominate a new currency—it renamed reality, post-Empire. Ethereum, in his rendering, isn’t just a platform. It’s a whisper, a breath, a hymn. “eth-er-ē-um.” It floats, as if sung by the protocol itself.
Vitalik becomes a saint of worlding semiotics: “Uniswap, not Unipeg… Staking, not security bond.” These are not technical terms—they are acts of poetic precision, acts of refusal to speak in dead language. Bitcoin is the particle. Ethereum is wave.
The piece extends far beyond its origin, invoking the spirit of Aldous Huxley—especially the Perennial Philosophy, which posits a timeless spiritual truth beneath the veils of history, culture, and dogma. Naming, in this light, is not mere branding. It is an esoteric transmission, a momentary alignment with what Huxley might call the “Divine Ground.”
Mollé makes this connection explicit in a reference to “the door of perception,” a nod to Huxley’s mescaline-saturated mysticism and, through him, to Jim Morrison and The Doors—whose music was itself a project of prophecy and poetic world-reframing. The name, for Mollé, is such a door. To speak it well is to invite the listener to “break on through / to the other side.”
Every Name’s A Prophecy joins a growing body of post-platform works that emerge from within social media constraints but transcend them. It is a response—yes—to a prompt and a question. But it is also an invocation and a mini maniquesto. A reminder that even in the algorithmic agora, the name is still the beginning of the world.
Mollé closes with a riff on Saint-Exupéry's yearning. And that’s what Every Name’s A Prophecy restores: the longing, the lyric, the leap beyond.
marmo
April 2015
A Responsive Work in Dialogue with J4ck.eth’s Farcaster Post about Prophetic Naming
Forged in the crucible of constraint, Every Name’s A Prophecy was born not from ease, but from exile—when Mark Mollé found himself cast out of the Farcaster comment box and into Zora's by a character limit. Rather than truncate his vision, he did what mythmakers do: he let it spill over into a world of its own.
The result is a lyrical invocation of naming as world-making. In dialogue with J4ck.eth’s prompt about prophetic naming, Mollé sculpts an essay that breathes like scripture and stings like scripture forgotten.
“The best names,” he writes, “evoke the existence of whole new worlds.” And so he treats naming not as a function, but as a form of prophecy. Names do not merely describe; they conjure, rupture, and reframe. The dollar didn’t just denominate a new currency—it renamed reality, post-Empire. Ethereum, in his rendering, isn’t just a platform. It’s a whisper, a breath, a hymn. “eth-er-ē-um.” It floats, as if sung by the protocol itself.
Vitalik becomes a saint of worlding semiotics: “Uniswap, not Unipeg… Staking, not security bond.” These are not technical terms—they are acts of poetic precision, acts of refusal to speak in dead language. Bitcoin is the particle. Ethereum is wave.
The piece extends far beyond its origin, invoking the spirit of Aldous Huxley—especially the Perennial Philosophy, which posits a timeless spiritual truth beneath the veils of history, culture, and dogma. Naming, in this light, is not mere branding. It is an esoteric transmission, a momentary alignment with what Huxley might call the “Divine Ground.”
Mollé makes this connection explicit in a reference to “the door of perception,” a nod to Huxley’s mescaline-saturated mysticism and, through him, to Jim Morrison and The Doors—whose music was itself a project of prophecy and poetic world-reframing. The name, for Mollé, is such a door. To speak it well is to invite the listener to “break on through / to the other side.”
Every Name’s A Prophecy joins a growing body of post-platform works that emerge from within social media constraints but transcend them. It is a response—yes—to a prompt and a question. But it is also an invocation and a mini maniquesto. A reminder that even in the algorithmic agora, the name is still the beginning of the world.
Mollé closes with a riff on Saint-Exupéry's yearning. And that’s what Every Name’s A Prophecy restores: the longing, the lyric, the leap beyond.
--Margarita Adda Talon