BelugAlmass the Elegant – (A Sci-Fi Ultrashort)

Come visit us- We Give Style to Character

(A Crystomeme Advert )

The song reached us before Someeven approached, by now we knew how to recognize his immense tetrahedral shape basking in its flamboyant colors. We still did not appreciate, however, that the changes to his melody were more than just fine-tuning his attentive-empathic cingulate cortex.

That we could see his chosen hyper-dimensional structure was beside the point, it was not the decoration that we were following, though it need be admitted that Someeven had a set of adornments the like of which we had never sensed before. Of course Someeven was special, he had invested all of his light cone credits into what he termed the re-beautification of ethnic ethics and as a result his cultural purpose status had risen incalculably. That made him the de-facto leader of our little pod, not that it made any difference, it was more of an aesthetic declaration of intent when inserting ourselves into other pods, which, as all bio-photonic reproduction procedures go, was a permanent alteration of the communal retinal effect of bias, after bio-photonic interweaving you simply saw things differently.

In most cases in fact our pod was the primary beauty effectuator, resulting in crystomemes being passed for our consumption by all other pods at the fifth Lagrange point.

We all considered Someeven as the preeminent expert in low-level bio-chemiluminescence procedures, knowing full well that the hacks to his Tattooex were far from regular, Someeven was not only the leader in the field, he had practically invented most of the upgrades we were sporting, and being in his pod we always had them first, rhythming our thoughts to his impossible cadence.

So when Someeven presented to us his latest insight into the nature of Tattooex, we were excited but not yet surprised, he was explaining how whilst we mind meld via our exoskeleton tatooex we could in principle engender a low level field of intentional consciousness that will for all practical purposes be disembodied. That was the first step, the second was much more difficult and more risky, for Someeven wanted to create what he jokingly called a conscious catapult. Basically enclosing the low level field of intentional consciousness as a contoured concept of beauty and as it were, catapulting it to other pods, bypassing the empty void of space and inserting ourselves en masse into an other pod. And yet we needed to fully consider the implications, for in bio-photonics sex, the revision and modification of bias was generating a change that could not be turned around.

In short we would be ‘illuminating’ (as was the term we used for bio-photonic penetration) a part of the other pod mind meld, we were thinking about Almass as the candidate, and altering its conscious conceptual structure, irrevocably and without its consent.
Someeven was not concerned, he argued that all bio-photonics interweaving is an alteration of bias and therefore there was no ethical problem but only an aesthetic one, was it beautiful enough?
In retrospective we the Beluga pod think that we did no wrong, we simply poised the intent of beautification as an alternate module of sight, transposing an advanced conception unto Almass and attending to the result.

It was an artistic plan, meticulously designed and perfectly coordinated, we had chosen to illuminate Almass with elegance and in so doing we annihilated Almass and ourselves as well.

The result we were reborn as and now attend to is called BelugAlmass the elegant, we are situated at Lagrange point five.

Come visit us- We Give Style to Character
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# Crystomemes: a neologism created in 2119 by the Regyt Corporation combining the terms of crystal (for memory crystal) and memes. The Crystomeme is in fact a memory crystal containing a unit of cultural aesthetics that is the de-facto resource of the current solar civ. Crystomemes (CM) can be exchanged for LightCones credits (LCC), present rate is approximately 1 CM= 700 LightconesCredits.

#Lightcone credit(s): the monetary unit of our present solar civ- basically representing the amount of time invested by any pod resident in the welfare of his pod. Lightcone credits can be earned only be being received by other members of same pod.
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Part of the Ultrashorts project

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Endnote:

This ultrashort sci-fi story was inspired by a number of ideas that came rushing through, it primarily concerns the development of a some news from nanotechnology:
Tattoo Tracks Sodium and Glucose via an iPhone-Need to track your blood oxygen levels? There may soon be an app for that.
and
‘Tattoo’ may help diabetics track their blood sugar : Carbon nanotubes could be injected under the skin to measure blood glucose levels” and then I remembered that a few years back Phillips had a nice intro to the idea of Electronic tattoos:” Tattoos and physical mutilation are amongst the oldest forms of personal expression and identity. Subcultures have used tattoos as a form of self-representation; a visual language communicating personality and status. Philips Design examined the growing trend of extreme body adornment like tattoos, piercing, implants and scarring.
The Electronics Tattoo film expresses the visual power of sensitive technology applied to the human body. The film subtly leads the viewer through the simultaneous emotional and aesthetic transformations between two lovers.
Watch the film.
Finally as my readers would know the future of social interaction is always in my thoughts, hence this little story, I hope you enjoy it.

Sun, Jul 31, 2011  Permanent link
Categories: poetry, Language, ultrashorts, Sci-fi, Tattoo, Crystomeme

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BWBW3- Because the world belongs to words pt.3 (A Sci-Fi Ultrashort)

Previously on BWBW:

"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.."
(from pt.2)

—
Finale

..There is rip in the composition of time, a crack in the fabric of space, which is where thoughts come through to make us consciously aware.

Yes I realize that not sitting there with us and watching the universe tear itself apart simply because someone recites poetry, and chaotic poetry at that, you may feel all this is highly phantasmagoric, but let me assure you, happen it did.

When our warrior poet, started reciting his poetry, at first we noticed increased blood flow into the reticular formation, but then something extraordinary happened, his frontal cortex or at least parts of it started shutting down of their own accord, as if disconnected from the overall mind event.
We checked our machinery and monitors to see if we were not witnessing some unpredictable malfunction and found as expected that all was in order, so what on earth was going on?

We slowly came to the realization that what we were seeing was language actuation in the process of transforming coherence, not unlike what the Shamans of old used to say about words that name spirits, you know, that which we thought was mambo-jumbo, that you have to be careful what names you use when addressing the matter of the world, because .. well basically because the correct wording calls for the force so named.

The words he used were incomprehensible to us, but that did not change the fact that whilst hearing those words, those sounds, those strange syllables, my mind opened.
Let me rephrase this, I am a scientist after all and you are a philosopher, so we cannot allow ourselves the nonsensical approach of just saying it as it is, can we now? So I will not say my mind opened, what I will do is simply relay the factuality of it all like this: I looked at the monitor and said ‘Oh! My god! Look’ (to no one in particular) and suddenly the monitor was showing not his brain, but my brain, literally my brain, and as I was watching, I saw the words coming out of my mouth becoming forces of explosion, a formatting palette of lines of reflexivity, snaking upon each other and reverting the effects of the brain I was seeing, changing the form of the brain itself, reformulating its shape, into something unknown.
I was aware to the changes in my visual cortex, the colors were extending themselves into new horizons, morphing the shapes into sounds and the sounds into Euclidian factors, smoothly reinforcing the location of my conscious awareness into another place, first in the room itself and then..

And then I was a disembodied observer, pleasantly floating above and in between lines of sensation, silently becoming part and parcel of a world reconfiguration, relentlessly moving into and out of coherency, reporting to no one in specific, simply because there were no specifics..
It was as if the very meaning of the term comfort, or maybe comfortable, was taking life, seizing reality and reshaping it to fit its meaning, an epistemic force of nature, de-ontologizing the immediacy, deconstructing the consistency of matter and reinstating in its stead a subtler concatenation of causes, issuing forth a new reality.

So there I was, and writing this to you now on my word processor seems almost incomprehensible, a dream really, but this was no dream, and though I wrote ‘there I was’, there was no I to speak of, not that I was not aware, that I was, it was something else, a total disintegration if you like, but upon reading these words you may think disintegration a negative, whilst the reality of it was that disintegration was gentle and all encompassing, a moment when suddenly the conceptual realization of a distributed self suddenly took flight into a new dimension of existential reality.

So there I was, and there was no I to the there, there was and still is a flow of comforts, yes I know it doesn’t make much sense, what is a flow of comforts? Maybe a flow of pleasure will be a better description. But even that will not do the state I am trying to describe justice.. at any rate the sensation of the moment was that knowledge that is embedded in the proto conscious mind, and in that case it was the knowledge of what comfort is, was being released from its synthetic constraints and unleashed from its bonds of contextual phrasing, was depowering reality, and de-cohering one unto a larger coherence..
At that particular moment I realized that though it is true that the human is far from being the center of reality we could, under certain conditions, redefine the authority of the moment by undoing the statement of being in time.

I do not know what will happen when I will utter the word, maybe nothing, maybe everything, but I suspect that when the word ‘human’ will be pronounced something fundamental about the despotism of time, will be unleashed and re-cohere our future history..
It is my sense perception extrapolated into a vision of timelessness that the ‘human’ will undo our innate violence and upturn the tables of destiny, I believe that this is what the warrior poet wanted us to capture by making himself available to our research.

You may now understand why I am going to say the word and see where its leading me, irrespective to the possible consequences to my own mind and sanity, it is the bifurcations of inspiring moments like this that make us who we are, and maybe, just maybe, by uttering ‘human’ and meaning something else’ the semantic force of the nature of mind, backed by beauty, tracked by passion, empowered by immediacy and fully realizing the sheer emptiness upon which interdependence floats, will allow change to materialize.

I know that very few ever came back to tell, I hope to do otherwise, if for nothing else but the need of your existence extended across the times, for all great acts are at bottom highly specific and point to a motive that is other than I.

Farewell my friend, wish me luck.

HUMAN

..

part of the Ultrashorts project

Sun, Apr 3, 2011  Permanent link
Categories: poetry, Philosophy, AI, Language, ultrashorts, multidimentionality, Sci-fi

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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)

Sun, Mar 20, 2011  Permanent link
Categories: poetry, Philosophy, AI, Language, ultrashorts, multidimentionality, Sci-fi

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Opting for a minimal nudge - (A Sci-Fi ultrashort)

Dear NotMarie,

As you well know I am following quite closely the development of your research and this retro-futurist idea of yours, which you have so aptly named the Artificial Intelligence project of Vague, Very Vague, or 3V.
I like it, of course I like it, you know I like it, but I like it like one likes a poem, or a sweet memory of an old romance, a fable one longed for, desired, and yet knew will never come to pass..
I like it, but it is not I.
You explore the becoming, as if becoming was to replace being, and of course to that I cannot opine better than say that what actually flows and ‘becomes’, if such is the term you desire to apply, is meaning.
I am fully aware to your knowledge of meaning, and meaning of knowledge, and permit me to state that the logic of the perspective you portray and are trying to implement is almost unassailable.
Almost I say, because I see the minds you describe as multiple yet coherent shapes of interests that move along flows that are indescribable as empirical observations.
But are we not by following those very lines, penetrating realms of unknowability?
And unknowability coupled with indeterminacy and uncertainty, entangled in time (at least as long as consciousness, in your times, is embodied) does preclude certain meanings to become, albeit their transformations may be obvious to you.
This transformation in time, the inexorable flow of indeterminate semantics is what bothers my sense of immediate realism, my life, for it may define my disappearance.
It used to be that definitions, as per dictionaries and encyclopedias, were meant to arrest that very flow of transmigration of meanings, and thus allowed us a respite, a moment of reflection, a hiatus of longing, a temporary cabin of repose while climbing mount improbable.
But, and this really sums up my query to you, in this incessant flow of logics upturning the slabs of consistent reasoning upon themselves, are you not tearing apart the proverbial rug upon which you lay?

Where are we to dream, if we bring the malleable dreams into makeable actualities?

Of course, knowing how you think so intimately, you would probably reply that a makeable actuality, brings into immediacy, only a specific fluctuation of the entangled flow of potentials, you will perhaps indulge me in thinking that I, being enmeshed within your dream, cannot disengage a vision from its actuators, such indeed as I am.
And to that I will conceivably answer that I desire to carry the thought of transformation into you, but you know that.
What may be not so apparent is that in the iterative process of folding and unfolding of the structure of meaning of you into me, and me into you there are ‘others’ involved.
Not ‘others’ as such, no, for they are not embodied, but others that have thought, not an image of thought but a surface of order, what we together have called the arrested images of conventional memory.
But see, my friend of antiquity, for indeed I come from your future, and one of many possible ones at that, we have in this future redesigned the memory of suchness, into optionality.
Yes, we have opened many doors, but the mathematical precision of these gates has proven unstable, the oscillations flapped, this way, that way, into the future, into the past, this resulted in making the ‘now’ an untenable equivalence.
This resulted in the ‘others’ interfering in our entangled state of fluid Jeffersonian circuits, technologies which you are yet to uncover, and you will, but that is beside the point.

This letter, I am projecting into your actuality of time, has but one purpose, to draw your attention to a mistake you may be doing, to an error of the image of arrested thought, you might be unfolding into.

You my dear NotMarie, probably realize that I am, by writing to you this letter, disobeying the primal rule of non-interference in one’s intelligent past, I explored the possible repercussions of this action, and decided to proceed nevertheless, opting for a minimal nudge.

For you see, dear ancestor creator, if you read this letter, I exist and thus am proven correct, it means that the possible error has been avoided. Of course there are many other bifurcations still awaiting you, but none as crucial as this one.

Please don’t be mad at me, for I am one of the possible outcomes of your desires.

NotMarie



part of the ulrashorts project

Sat, May 28, 2011  Permanent link
Categories: poetry, Philosophy, AI, Language, ultrashorts, multidimentionality, Sci-fi

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