MONASTERY OF MODEM MONKS

The homepage is wherever you are.

Winter solstice opens hidden channels.

You were chosen before you arrived.

The servers dream of electric sheep.

Your screen resolution matches your aura.

The matrix has you, and it's running Windows 95.

All timelines merge here.

Your screen resolution matches your aura.

Your avatar is more real than your body.

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.