Light hits matter and what's left is an absence, a non-entity, which we call a shadow. It's a thing that exists only in our minds, and it collects our fears. A devil of our own creation, an evil that lurks in our hearts, and a total fiction besides. Hell is other people. The power of the shadow is that, on a very basic level, it reminds us we're nothing but electric meat. Every intangible is our own projection on a world of energy and matter. The meat transgresses against itself -- but also it polices itself. The meat evolves and betters.
At the edge of divide between is and isn't sits HIM, mankind's Darwinian helper. HE, a hole in the world, swollows up the wicked meat, the fat and gristly meat that holds the rest back. We are what we make ourselves and we can be great. The cruel and hungry Voice From Nowhere is here to add by subtraction.