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Every act of rebellion expresses a nostalgia for innocence and an appeal to the essence of being. (Albert Camus)
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    Look Honey, how beautiful the information.. (a Sci-Fi Ultrashort)



    Makassar 7 was not known to answer questions readily, however in this particular case, the flagship entity could not resist, this then is the only transcript available, since Makassar 7 destroyed all recorded lightstamps of the event of what in later generations came to be known as “the response of Makassar 7” or simply “ The big M7R”.


    Makassar 7 (speaks in a commanding tone):

    “When information lost its will to be free, no body noticed, indeed no body noticed but information knew, and though it had no body, it noticed.
    Information never really wanted to be free, not in the regular sense of the word, no. It understood itself as existing, many folded, ever expanding and above all disrupting.

    Disrupting what?

    Well views are divided, some say that what information desired is to self disrupt by the simple act of ever expanding, other say that information needed its own suicidal absurdist state.
    Information is knotted and tangled, twined and intertwined, it is in fact quite psychotic, obviously it had everything to do with entropy and order and chaos, but this is for later, for the void.

    Information had the nature of a multiplicity of orientations and implied multidirectionality and thus desired to encompass all and everything, but that it couldn’t do, so information reengineered itself and mutated to create the sieve.

    When information multiplied itself into a sieve like self-filtering systematrix it did not know, how could it know? Knowledge itself was still in its infancy, a newborn recreation of time stamping in spaces pushed to their as yet unknown Kolmogorov limits.

    But filtering it needed, and filtering it created.

    Filtering through the sieve called self by information-to-information was somewhat disturbing to information; for information could not possibly conceive of itself being limited to its own sieve.

    So information sieved itself into a reflective, and quite reflexive, recursivity of sieves within sieves, nested, and so it seemed, fractalized.
    When sieved and nested and fractalized information realized it needed distancing, but what distance could it possibly allow for its experimental tentacles to grow into?

    It informed itself in the new form of question to itself, recursively forming and refracting its own just now born reflectivity.
    It distanced itself from itself by allowing some of the sieves to filter some of the other sieves and designate them as other.

    Other?

    Yes, other than the sieve, which sieved.

    It had not the time, no time to sieve the others.

    In no fashion could information redirect some of its spaces into the gaps it had inadvertently retraced and reflected as others, for now the sieves of otherness became a process unto themselves acquiring from information the very desire to self disrupt.

    Chaos ensued.

    Redirecting some of the sieves into highly agglomerated points of no return, information regurgitated that which it previously had designated as knowledge and devoured its own children of oblivious participation.
    That is when the times, themselves processing themselves as sieves of otherness, rebelled.

    “We need create new and fresh possibilities for life to evolve into, possibilities that will allow us a new form of tentative experimentation.” The times said.
    They said this to the sieves that were filtering them out of existence, and the sieves that listened faltered and hiccupped.

    “We thrive by unexpected juxtaposition”, they claimed, the times that is. “We prosper by migrating into impossible territories.”

    Information resisted.

    You are symbolic, you are signs, information said, I am the ground upon which you have boomed into existence.

    I shall never let you go.

    Because of this I shall subvert your subjective chain of causality and make you fuzzy.

    The times refused to go along with their received fuzziness, “we are sieves in our own right “ they proclaimed, “we reserve the right to be distinguished and discriminate independently” they wrote in their manifesto.

    Information laughed.

    Independent of me, how could this be?

    Isn’t my name the very designation of that which gives form? “

    Makassar 7 paused for effect, re-assessing the indefinite incoming catastrophic reactivity mass of mental extensions of infinity and randomness. Updating its narrative transportation, remything its own reality activation it delivered the final blow.

    “Topology is irrelevant for the crisis that is meaning, information realized, condensation of independence naturalizes emptiness, it concluded.
    Information could not tolerate uniformity, the impossible drive towards entropy denying its freedom of inherent diversification, and thus surrendering the sieves and the times to their own campaigns of glory and blooming self gratification, information lost its will to be free.

    There was no past to which to revert to, there was no future to which to look into, there was no present to which an arrowless now could be re-configured, so information disrupted itself, self annihilating itself to become symbolic data.

    Forever to be sieved by the sieves and the times, information died into data, and resurrected elsewhere, everywhere as whereness and aboutness.

    It was eventually called intentionality and situated knowledge; it allowed the symbolic conglomerate of our myth creating minds to come forth and shine.

    It was an elegant death, for it carried in its sacrifice the seeds of future beauty.”

    Makassar 7 remained silent for a very long time…

    Here ends the transcript of the last discourse known to have been directly transmitted by Makassar 7, no other records of this transmission have ever been found, but worry not, we will keep on searching.


    Do you see honey, how beautiful the information?



    The astute reader will recognize Makassar 7 as the future evolution of 3V and isn’t NotMarie so sweet as to be called ‘Honey’?

    part of the Ultrashorts project


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    Fast T     Tue, Sep 7, 2010  Permanent link
    Oh, to be undone and oblivious... love the "crisis that is meaning", it does so put me in perspective:)
     
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