Dogg he his called, Mechanicus, Adept in the Dagga Oblongata, Master of the 420 Algorithmic Doctrines of Higher Consciousness. Like most of the population of The Ziggurat he teeters on the edge of mental and emotional paralysis but perhaps an interesting challenge could rouse him from his extreme chill.  But he has not been in The Ziggurat for an eon and his crib sits empty.  When he speaks the words are dramatic but his tone is calm...very, very calm...regardless how intense the situation.  Others sometime find this relaxing as well, but some just think he's on something.

But his absence is not the result of exile nor was he disintegrated in his own ill-thought experiment as the posers claim.  The reason begins in ages past when those of higher thought would gather to contemplate and pontificate upon the inner workings of scientific excellence.   But as time wore on and the universe succumbed to entropy the discoveries were shared, the TED talks had become repetitive, the technology stagnant, and the tech groupies failed to make their sexy, sexy appearances.  But there were great proofs left unproven, designs yet unbuilt and left to wither of which others would benefit.   Of these, he chose one, knowing that it would require thousands of years to resolve.  But the purpose that he clung to drove him onward, leaving the Ziggurat and its lethargy, where others of his H.O.M.I.E.S. (Homeo-postumous Organisms of Mechanics, Intelligence, Elegance & Soul) lay back and let the enigma's of Creation slip from their relaxed grasps.