Come and Play in the Starry Starry Night
In a fragile universe of refined order, whirling dervish stars dance eternally. The gloaming falls away to reveal the luminiferous aether. Come and spin with the pulsars.
A tangling circuit of energy lies at the heart of each expanding civilization.
The Global Brain is Beginning to Function
The increasing speed at which dense information can be distributed accelerates the cascading creation of higher layers of consciousness. The text composing the image is a selection from Peter Russell.
Resembles working pieces of machinery. Each beam of cells is a horizontal slice through a two-dimensional Pascal's triangle standing upright.
New Flesh is Forming
The new is replacing the old in your body with vorpal efficiency. Landscaper cells vaporate all in their path, but the ensuing vacuum is fast filled.
Red vs Blue
Blue builds machines powered by Pascal's triangles to pierce Red's alternating arrays. Each may claim victory in half the battles, but none win the war.
Ancestral structures in their own islands make local decisions and begin to throw out possible connecting paths for potential futures. As time progresses, connections are established between islands, and those connections begin to self-optimize. Intermediate and intervening structures evaporate, leaving only the road.
A burning, uninhabitable cosmos.
Plane and Tank
Complex particles travel in two dimensions, emitting particle planes at different rates. Particle collisions produce new particles or annihilation.
A Rift in the Aether
The complexity of an organism is a product of the complexity of its environment. Complexity is slowly banished into the rift, leaving behind wispy tendrils that show only that something else was here in a time before.
Just an Ordinary Well
Removing complexity induces temporal stability. Once the creation process is over, the stable world may bear no resemblence, or have any trace of, the process that created it. How does one who lives in the stable world derive that there was once chaos? Perhaps one cannot. Perhaps this is just an ordinary world.
Tiny tumbling particles build ephemeral edifices. Each structure serves as a sacrificial bridge to communicate with surrounding populations, as establishing contact destroys the population.
Ghosts of Sierpinski
Fading shades of structure drift wayward in the fathomless universe.
Tiny particles traverse the void trailing luminous tails. But the void is full of dangers. Those who travel thrash violently and uselessly against the inevitable.
A kalaidoscopal world exhibits quaternal symmetry.
Portentous cellular harpoons anchor the arrival of the eternal churning mass.
Cells grow and perish, each living out its existence in the forest universe. The macroscopic forest is ageless in harmonious balance.
Bright and dark neon congeries hang suspended in the luminiferous aether, their soft subtle susurus betraying faint whispering amongst the colluding arbiters.
An island of ice in an inhospitable world--a fish out of water. For some fish, there is no water.
Enveloping static. Paradolic mirages dance and weave. The liminal waking-state of the half-remembered dream-world. Scattered thoughts.
Structure comes in slow waves. The void is painted into boxes. The conclusion is left unwritten because it has no reason to be wrote, for it is not recondite knowledge, but coloring within the lines already determined.
In the Deep
Within the simple closure of hadal environs, creatures shift slowly on hidden tides. They live a tiny, subtle life, whose facets are obscure and whose purposes are opaque. There are no grandiose victories or humbling defeats. It is a quiet realm of hushed minimalism.
A tangled chaos evaporates into static stoicism. The heat death comes without escape. There is no why. Perhaps it would be better to stay in the oceanic depths.
Time does not always loop and repeat. Sometimes there is an end. Sometimes the end is not in plain sight, and the wave must wash over a surface again and again to expose the plain truth.
Birth and Death
The heraldry of a fiery creation just as quickly sublimates in the blackness of the void, taking with it all that was. A dying, dissipating, doomed cosmos streaming into hidden depths, leaving only the static waste behind. A vanishing of the possibility of possibilities. All possible presents converge as the present becomes the past, but the evaporation of the possibility of possibilities is something different: a covergence of the futures, rather than the pasts, that forces time into a simple line rather than a garden of forking paths. It is the fate of the protagonists in Lovecraft's The Strange High House in the Mist and Murakami's South of the Border, West of the Sun. Is it an inexorable fate?
A game of rock, water, and flora. Each expands and pushes against its siblings. Only the strong survive.
Tomorrow Was Too Late
Flecks of light battle murky enveloping dark matter. The light struggles to break through. Time is precious, and there is none of it to waste. The dim light must endure and shine. Tomorrow is better than yesterday if you can make it in time.
The furnaces of fiery stars spin round and round, casting off flotsam that dissipates in the aether.
Cells form atoms composed of a nucleus with central cell and eight surrounding receptors. Alone, the atom flashes binary in eternal stability. Proximal atoms interact to produce information streams, which flow unbounded. Some streams are static floating envelopes that break impotent on the shores of foreign atoms, but others are dynamic and build multiway communication paths.
Information chunks float freely across the void between globular masses. Tailed chunks emit a wake of cells as they travel, while others formed of less volatile matter drift silent and serene. The radiation and absorption of chunks reaches equilibrium, forming a stable viridian-litten world.
When you play the Game of Life, you win or you die
In a symmetric world of gliders, collisions tend to have an annihilatory effect on both parties or, rarely, create gliding glider factories that emit phalanxes to replace the fallen. The population dwindles as the war eats. It is ravenous.
A valve beats at a steady rhythm despite encroaching chaos. Each arabesque begins from a seed, but only the heart emerges from the initial chaos.
Buildings upon buildings mile after mile after mile.
Inside the Machine
Twin materials build and rebuild component parts in the machine. Destabilizing components are torn and shredded, and the razed replaced while the rest of the machine hums oblivious. The creation of intermediary barriers causes components to split apart. They lead separate lives now. Perhaps they were never there at all.
Adrift in Cheeto Space
Stable Cheeto-like masses communicate betwixt one another by exchanging horrid filaments of cast-off dust. The dust adheres to Cheeto and aether alike with unnatural stickiness. Orange residue permeates and chokes the world. Save our universe by listening to this cautionary tale.
Wisps of life dance and play capriciously against the backdrop of illimitable space.
The Origin of Geometry
Dark shapes slither and slide over the familiar angles of a Euclidean universe.
Spindles of Ringworld
Starbursts herald the birth of the rings. They cluster in congeries, each copse of ring-matter vibrating in synchronized dance to the beat of some unseen, hyperdimensional cosmic rhythm. Luminescent hallucinatory chaos gives way to hypnotic frequency.
The Machines Are All Right
The machine builds itself slowly, first deciding its segmentations on the macro scale and then working down scales to the cellular level.
Messengers traverse the space between distant lands, their diasporal adventures drawing lands toward one another and collapsing the seas between earth.
Something happened. This is the end of side 1. Please flip over to begin side 2.
A pandaemonium of thoughts swirl and eddy about the brain. Subjective reality is malleable and requires an orchestrating, ordering thought to maintain a steady path. The pressure of the thought wave spreads outward and forces the subjective reality to codify itself.
All that exists unfolds in the dreamer's mind to the steady rhythm of consciousness bursting through activating electrochemical passageways. The beat of the drum of time is the metronomic backbone of reality. The landscape of the dream grows vivid stretched across time's frozen skeleton.
Noema I: The Grand Machine
Every part is a piece of a bigger whole, and the whole is replicated in each part. The unfolding of the deepest implicate layer reveals the explicate in panoply.
Noema II: The Maze Carvers
But the primeval state of the grand machine is occluded through time by the carven lattice that is our reality. The cognitive pattern engine spins reasoning for its audient captive and the primeval state is forgotten.
Noema III: Armored Attack
We are separated from the implicate by a barrier formed of our own conscious minds. The self-reflective apparatus builds a navigator for the tangled maze of the world that is blind to its hidden intricacies. The effective universal aegis obscures the enfolded nature of reality.
Noema IV: Cathode Sky
Is the barrier permeable? Can it become thin and liminal? The subjective and the objective meet somewhere deep in a cascading rain falling toward the minima of a transient bubble suspended in abyssal infinity, and the psychosphere it guards gently sleeps under a red-litten cathode sky.
Awake in the Unfolding Implicate
Each one is what all are.