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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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    BWBW2-Because the world belongs to words pt.2 (A Sci-Fi ultrashort)
    Previously on BWBW:

    ” But what happens when the very task that we set to compute is an iterative branching of meaning?
    What happens when the arrangement itself of matter re-coheres itself continuously to fit the desire of the task at hand which is a non-given in chaotic poetry?

    I’ll tell you what happens, because I saw it with my very own eyes, and heard it with my very own ears..
    What happens is that all dimensions open simultaneously and all meanings break loose, time dissolves, space explodes, and the door of perceptions become transparent and suddenly you see.. “ (from pt.1)


    My dear friend, if I sound a bit incoherent and rambling its because I am trying to write to you as fast as I can before it happens.. But to understand what may happen I need to give you some elaborations..

    So before I go on let me explain to you the conceptual framework that we started with, we assumed, as it were that, that there is a close correlativity between the foundations of true beliefs, into false beliefs and up to the super-abstract level of fictional beliefs which though not true are nevertheless highly useful as functional properties of non teleo-semantics applications in every day life. The reason for this is quite simple, we took for granted the idea that without such fictional beliefs we cannot run the current human civilization, and even more our current conceptualization of time, of matter, but more particularly of consciousness.

    We realized early on in our investigations that mental imagery, what is commonly called quasi-perceptual experience, may allow a form of experiential mentation that does not require visualization but is, in a manner of speaking, quite formless, though that which is experienced is a kind of form, I say a kind of form but I really mean that it is something more akin to the way we see water in motion, if you freeze frame the moment you could say that the water has shape, but in the constancy of waves there is no particular form , though a continuous process of transformation from one form into another takes place, and of course it takes place as an uninterrupted progression.

    This progression, my friend, of form, into form, a formless motion of diversification was the key, it was the key to understand how levels of abstraction cohere and re-cohere themselves into an apparent continuity, in a way it is not unlike conceptual metaphors, yes, the very concept we dealt with years ago has resurfaced in a very wild manner.
    If you recall, conceptual metaphors imply that you can often use one kind of metaphor to understand another, but what we came to perceive via our ‘warrior poet’ was that the very term understanding was a metaphor, bleeding levels and dimensions into one another, this was an important realization for it was the clue to the riddle.
    By then we were already well into the conceptual domains of the chaotic poetry but we did not see this, not one of us could see this, how stupid we were! We didn’t put our minds into the equation of the experiment, thinking for so many years that there exists an objective and discreet reality out there, we simply forgot that we are part of the equation, we were the experimenters but we were experimented upon at the same time.
    In fact subject X was actually using us, nah! ‘Using’ is the wrong word, because he was not doing anything intentional, or preplanned, he was simply doing what we supposedly asked of him, he was reciting the poetry as we asked, but we were listening, of course we were listening, that was the whole point of the experiment wasn’t it? To listen to the words and then map them using the blood flow of his brain as a cue to understanding the way language maps into the brain.

    But not all brains are wired alike and not all conceptual domains allow for the same kind of realities to blend as one, of course you may object that peripherally this is well known, but what you now fail to understand as we did fail then was to take into consideration that mostly those differences of wiring are inconsequential but sometimes, ah! Sometimes, these differences become amazingly catastrophic!!

    I use the term catastrophic, not in the common negative sense but in the sense of catastrophic theory , because just as in catastrophe theory, the small variations though stable across time, allow for total dimorphism of the particular brain in which they occur, yes of course it is random on the grand scale, but in the particulars it is highly ordered and can be in a sense maneuvered to cohere the geometry of the conscious mind and by that shaping the immediate awareness of the mind in question to ‘SEE’ the bleeding metaphors in the very process of transformation ,into dimensions not originally correlated, in real time.

    Imagine that, in real time..

    And in our case subject X, the warrior poet, was an adept at exactly this kind of self-iterating mind augmentation using the tools of non-given chaotic poetry. But wait, that was not all, because if, as I know you do, you understand how dynamic systems operate on interacting scales of progression, you know that they eliminate the directionality of the arrow of time, that which most humans forget to forget when dealing with their higher faculties, with their desire of beingness.

    I must say that Johanna, which incidentally, or maybe not I now think, was the only one of us that was a professional mathematical expert in chaos theory, was the one that caught early on to the implications of self organizing systems. Yes of course, we all knew the correlation of simple equations to complex behaviors, and all the metaphorical extrapolations of the ‘butterfly effect’ and so on, but what she was quick to understand and we were slow, I now admit, was that slight variations are not physical in and of themselves, yes they are of matter, but the rules of behavior are not of physics, but of linguistics, or of shapes if you like, who could have guessed this..? Not me certainly, could you?

    Enough with explications, I know you understand me like no one else, but this time really I need you to fly with me on this, I’ll tell you how it all went and then you will judge for yourself, but as a friend I ask you the favor to withhold judgment until you hear me out, do like we do when watching the movies, a temporary suspension of disbelief.

    At least for an extended moment..

    I am sending you also some notes I wrote during the session, not ordered I know, but they may help you in understanding where I am going with all this..

    Warrior poets see patterns where we see anarchy and chaos, therefore we realized they see a reality that we could not perceive, same picture but bigger, stranger, in a way perverse, with no systematic way to follow, a domination of natural occurrences..
    It was the shapes he said, the shapes of branches iterating their own branching into infinite self-similarity, but at smaller scales the forking of dimensions re-iterates the bleeding of syntax into semantics.

    Repeating the word could replace self-similarity into the geometry of fractals.

    It wasn’t man made and yet it wasn’t supernatural, but it was not natural in the regular sense and to the common senses.

    A quirk maybe but fundamental nevertheless, all signposts to the language of eternality, complex, iterative, multidimensional, and yet so amazingly simple it craves derision.

    Of course complex systems come from simple rules, but then the simplicity of the rules is decidedly illusory, it is the slightly different that makes the difference, that is where free will comes in, and explains how life emerged, and why the cosmos is so well astonishing, and why everything opens when the word is write or right..

    Some things he said:

    Wherever he went he found nothing, but he was happy with this nothingness, he was or so he claimed, ecstatic about it, ecstatic in a manner that he called primal, like leaves receiving their first drops of rain, nothing, like love he said, like feeling obsolete and taking pleasure in the meaninglessness of it all.. but then realization occurs, like a flowing river..

    Takan ,Lakan, Mahakaran, Shutam, Diparkalam… that is what he said

    Rich complexity he called it.. a deep, profound and highly unexpected connection, cosmic maybe, between order and chaos and nothing..

    I have put these things here on this letter I am sending you because I think that you need also some hints that are not filtered through me directly..
    I know you know that there are no intrinsic problems as such, but only difficulties in maintaining a multilayered reality in immediacy but keep in mind that the essence of the warrior poet is a re-arrangement without thought, consciously keeping the direction of repetition but not allowing the order to emerge until an arbitrary point of conscious spontaneity, and it is this very spontaneity that I am looking for, it happens when the variation is exactly right, when the mutation is self similar to a degree that is high enough and far enough..

    An exact tipping point..

    Shortly to be continued..

    (Part of the Ultrashorts project)

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