Mister T • Small God of Biomechanics

[image description: A painterly golden oil portrait . A man with dark close-cropped hair, prominent ears, he sports almost impossibly-thick tri-focal glasses which cast fascinating refractions across his a fine-boned tight-lipped face. He wears a bespoke toile suit, white collar and bow-tie. Text reads, “257, Mister T • Small God of Biomechanics”]

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All things, living or not, must follow certain physical rules to be considered a part of this physical universe, to be able to interact with the world around them in a meaningful and consistent way. To ignore those rules is to ignore physicality, and to ignore physicality is to be reduced—or elevated—to the level of the theoretical, or the divine.

Mister T is here to make sure no one makes that transition without intention. He has no issue with theory. All gods are, in a sense, beings of pure theory, of the place where physics can do no more good work and biology drops away. Mister T respects the theoretical, but where he thrives is in the biomechanical, in the understanding that biology is a science, after all, and the laws of physics can be applied to the lives of all things. There is kinetic energy in the musculature of a limb, and surface tension in a cell.

Mister T doesn’t control biomechanics. That is a role for a greater god than he. The ways and workings of the physical are outside his grasp. What he does is guide their study, and help people to comprehend themselves and the living world around them, the delicate interplay of gravity and gravidity, friction and flexion. He is an interdisciplinary god who guides a whole discipline, careful and precise, but joyous all the same, because while knowledge may not change anything, knowledge is power, and he wants his faithful to be powerful.

He wants them to believe, as he does, in a better world born from better understanding of all things. And in him, of course. He may be a creature of theory, but belief is the fuel that sustains him, and like all living things, he wants to endure.

There are so many mysteries as yet unsolved.