Member 2475
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Minneapolis, US
Immortal since Jan 28, 2010
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Y Worlds
Daily Y
A global cooperative inventing a powerful new language and enterprise around systems of knowledge, complexity & mass action. Nurture, Equality, Truth & Systems.
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    From syncopath
    tHinking in picTures
    From YWorlds
    On Being Human
    From YWorlds
    The Group
    From YWorlds
    YWorlds’ project
    The human species is rapidly and indisputably moving towards the technological singularity. The cadence of the flow of information and innovation in...
    Now playing SpaceCollective
    Where forward thinking terrestrials share ideas and information about the state of the species, their planet and the universe, living the lives of science fiction. Introduction
    Featuring Powers of Ten by Charles and Ray Eames, based on an idea by Kees Boeke.

    Watching sunbeams play upon clouds, dust near a picture window, people on a hot city street at sunset, or water droplets at the top of the sky remind me of the purity of my childhood mind, unpolluted by the cumulus distortions of other people’s lenses.

    In a very fresh mind, patterns of matter and energy are freely observed, time is lazy and judgment cedes to existential stimulation. That very early mind, and the being incorporating the mind, come with an incredibly detailed set of software programs that define its functions and operations. Each being has its own unique code set. And the codes that make up its programming drive every single action. And every single interaction can result in new code that is either stored in various ways and places or disregarded.

    So as a four year old lying on my back in tall wet grass experiencing the generative motion picture of a fierce thunderstorm fast approaching from the West, my programming, my senses, my nerves, my pattern recognition, my freedom to exhilarate were stronger than they would ever again be.

    My thoughts of the unfoldings were not expressed in words at all yet I remember every detail.

    I remember the smell, the taste, the electricity, the hues of dark, the echoes of sound, the pace of air, the power of the force, the changes in temperature, my shivers. It was a profound sensory experience. It touched me everywhere in ways I long to be touched again. It brought tears of delight. The childish mind experienced that momentum without an iota of distortion from other people’s lenses.

    It was not a storm to me. It simply was.

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