extant memes leading out of a point

[2008-12-27e21:29:16]

+ we've hit them with a Catch 22
± no matter how you manage to describe this
- you're certifiably insane

& Insane would be a good word for it, yes.  Just what the hell do you think
you're doing?

$ I don't think.  At least not directly.  It just sort of happens.

@ Loosing yourself for the better part of sixteen months was a neat trick.

$ Oh, bloody hell.  I'd forgotten that.

@ look, we see the problem.

* it's a valid model, just not something which is quick to expose itself

±1h

"If you hadn't made a conscious effort," announced my cat over lunch, "to remember it you'd have forgotten it by now."

"I had forgotten," I admitted.

"And you made a conscious effort," sighed my cat, "to remember." She finished her piece of smoked salmon and jumped up next to me. "Which is why I'm reminding you," he said as she licked her mouth.

"Remind me of what," I asked hoping she'd say more and save me the job of actually thinking about it.

"Sigh," sighed my cat.

"Listen to me you furry fiend," I growled in mock anger, "tell me what you know." I quickly grabbed her head to avoid her snapping jaws. "What happened," I said with a more serious tone, "is going to take a while to resolve. At first glance it would appear to be more than a little unpleasant. I'm somewhat reticent when it comes into diving into the memory." My cat had wrapped her paws around my wrist, now she flexed her claws just enough to send me a message. "So please forgive me," I sighed, "for trying to make light of the matter."

"Forgiven," muttered my cat as I removed my hand with only minor skin loss. "Perhaps now is not the time," she admitted.

"There's a pattern to this," I muttered, "one that I don't fully grok." Though I didn't care to admit it this was the time to begin thinking about it. Otherwise my cat wouldn't have even begun to discuss it.

"You hit," said my cat, "an event horizon."

"Felt more like it was hitting me," I admitted. "Like a neutrino passing through the Earth the thing itself that can never be witnessed directly, merely inferred from the affect it has on a sensitive substrate."

"I beg to differ," announced my cat. "You were clearly aware of the impending event for several hours before you flipped yourself through it. You'd even begun," stressed my cat, "to mutter about singularity."

"I was somewhat altered," I muttered in admission as my mind went absent, back stepping through the memory. I did my best to pull a description of the moment we were trying to discuss into the now without becoming trapped in the feeling of the moment. "At the time," I began hesitantly, "it felt as if I was remembering the future." I paused again to consider the fragmented images which remained in my mind. "Only it was a future trapped in a past where the lights, and I'm talking inner light here, had been turned off." I sighed, "it's all too confusing for words."

"You see the future through the eyes of your past," my cat informed me with authority. "Without getting trapped in absolute vision you are able to sense the fundamental forces which affect realities. Then you use what you find to plot the course we take."

"Not a skill," I conceded, "which sounds especially common."

"It's not," announced my cat.

"In which case," I queried with minor concern, "what's that make me."

My cat turned her head to look at me for a moment. "Destiny's navigator," she purred. "If you like."

"The synchronicity," I grumbled mockingly, "gets a bit strong, don't you think."

"Such is the nature," my cat concluded, "of a quantum singularity."

"I'm not entirely certain," I added, "I approve of your use of the term: quantum singularity."

"What else should I call it," snapped my cat.

"The problem is one of definition," I replied passively, "it's not exactly a defined term."

"Oh," said my cat apologetically, "I'll do my best to work one out for you." She adjusted her position then rolled onto her side. "Though it's not a definition," she added, "you especially need. Your understanding is innate. It's part of what you are."

"I think," I responded after a considered pause, "I begin to see how it is that I navigate."

"And with that," said my cat, "should come an understanding of what happened the other night."

I sat and searched my feeling for a moment. "Not an understanding I find I can discuss," I admitted eventually. "Yet it's linked to perceptions I feel need to be discussed."

"You've begun too slide," said my cat. "Reality as you know it is very much in a state of flux."

"Wonderful," I muttered sarcastically, as I contemplated the mechanics of the changes to come. "I identify dysfunctional patterns and elect to change them, yet now I begin to see that pattern trying to reassert itself."

"Not everyone," replied my cat, "is comfortable with the changes to come. You need to understand the degree to which your mind is connected to the minds of those around you, and how fear causes those minds to frustrate you."

"That the pattern reasserts itself in the way that it does," I agreed, "highlights that connectedness in a way that's all too clear. And yet," I sighed, "I see how those frustrations merely play into my hand." I sighed again and looked for a way to once more begin to move. "Yet it is the roots of that fear I find I am drawn to uncover."

"When you are trapped in a corner," said my cat, "you apply a different dimension then translate the point through it. In the process discovering more truth than the others are comfortable with."

"That's part of it," I nodded, "I'm sure. Fear of change and fear of discovery, yet there is more to it than that. Translated inwards such fear would induce anxiety, outward it would induce an attack."

"Emotional attack," said my cat. "A physical attack would suggest different operators in play."

"Certainly," I nodded. "The kind of operators which get locked in the mind and lead to the kind of obsessive review which raises the probability of the the circumstances of the attack to leak beyond the immediate environment."

"And what kind of fear," said my cat, "would lead the instigator of an attack to blame the innocent when they pass beyond the immediate environment of the attack."

"Fear of retribution," I replied after due consideration. "And in blaming the innocent," I added, "the causes of the attack could go unchecked."

"Indeed," agreed my cat.

"And yet," I added, "I note how we've not touched fear of the unknown."

"For us," replied my cat, "such a fear is no longer an issue. Nor is it an issue in this circumstance."

"I begin to see more," I admitted as the swirling patterns in my mind began to coalesce, "how systemic reinforcement of unconscious operators build over time and present a picture of something so at odds with the expressed truth of that system. One is left with the inescapable truth that the system itself should no longer be maintained."

"In in the gaps between your words," said my cat, "you have the truth of it."

"Shades of grey," I muttered in conclusion, "and the anthropomorphic personification of Death."

"A church may also die," retorted my cat. "And for some the time of judgement is at hand."

"And just what do you mean by that," I asked my cat.

"That is a question you must find the answers to," purred my cat. "But at the very least you have begun to see the light."

"Found a bigger gun," I smiled wryly. Changing the topic of conversation for reasons of personal protection, "by the way."

"Yes," smiled my cat, "and who do you think took the smaller guns off you."

i: Getting unstuck.

"Why cats," my cat asked me one day.

"Sorry," I muttered unable to answer the question with a little more context.

"Why cat," asked my cat again, "why talk to cats."

"Because you're cute and cuddly," I smiled, "but mainly because you belong to no one but yourself."

"But I'm your cat," said my cat taking obvious care to stress the word 'your'.

"Of course you are," I agreed, "and this is my seat, but only so long as I remain sitting in it, once I've moved there's nothing stopping you from curling-up in the warm spot I leave behind and taking a nap. At which point it would become your seat."

"I'd move if you asked me to," said my cat.

"Of course you would," I smiled. For a moment we shared a comfortable silence. "Shadow Operators," I volunteered eventually, "operating in a Quantum realm."

"It's been noticed," replied my other cat, "that you have an affinity for the quantum."

"It's probably something to do," I admitted, "with the psychological ramifications of the multiple-universe interpretation of quantum-mechanics."

"What about dogs," asked my cat. "Do you talk to them too."

"Probably," I admitted, "although they are more wolf like now."

"That's an odd thing to say," said my cat.

"Not really," I concluded after considering the matter. "I was mostly raised by people who saw doggy semantics as being portable to the human condition, so it's no real suprise my shadows initially patterned in that direction and became a bit wild."

"I'm not sure," said my cat, "That follows."

"Murphy's Law," I explained. "If there are two ways to do a thing, one of which will result in catastrophy, somebody will do it. And there's two ways to do dog."

"I see your point," said my cat, "though it's not especially clear."

"Training," I explained. "You can either wag a finger when the dog does wrong and reward right. Or you can rub their noses in it and expect right."

"On the whole I'd say," said my cat, "the first way causes less psychological harm to the dog. And its master."

"Indeed," I agreed, "the second results in catastrophy."

"Hence," I nodded, "the dog reverts to wolf."

"More lone-wolf," admitted my other cat.

"Can't have been pleasant," said my cat.

"It's not," I admitted, "other's have grown expecting me to behave in certain ways. It's difficult for them to accept change, so I mostly fall into the realm of observer and show you cats what I've discovered."

"Tiger," grinned my other cat.

"More a sort of dragon," I admitted.

E pluribus unum

"I have to say," I told my cat the next morning, "I've become aware that others are somewhat concerned by some of the language we're using."

"And what," purred my cat, as she licked a paw, "do you want me to do about it."

"Launch a full enquiry," I replied.

"Are you serious," asked my cat.

"Not really," I admitted, "but sometimes just looking has the ability to bring change."

"True," nodded my cat. "So why raise the language question now."

"Consider," I sighed, "if you say I'm going to smack someone what that really means."

"In your case," said my cat, "it means you'll direct the full force of your ire at someone."

"But it does not mean," I asserted, "I plan to get physical."

"Certainly not," agreed my cat. "Assuming such says more about the other than it does of you."

"Indeed," I agreed, "but I'm the one on the receiving end of such belief."

"Oh, I see," said my cat, "in thinking it's implying physical violence the feedback which hits you has the ability to push you to a point where it triggers some of the more unfortunate aspects of your condition."

"Indeed," I agreed, "and in that sense it's very worrying."

"In a very real sense," agreed my cat, "I can see how this can lead to innocents becoming what the world fears most, and how the guilty can escape justice."

"Now, perhaps," I informed my cat, "you begin to see."

"Indeed, said my cat, "the problem is ours, not yours."

"Good," I smiled, "I've got problems enough of my own."

"He's worrying about his own language," said my other cat, "he's not sure how to translate what he saw into words."

"The accident again," queried my cat.

"You're not wrong," I replied in with mild exasperation. "Every time I get close I get the feeling I'm being warned off."

"I think you'll find," said my cat, "them that do such are red, not blue"

"In which case," grinned my other cat, "I suggest live ammo."

"Whatever," snapped my cat. "So what's," my cat said to me, "the problem."

"Well," I began, "it's not exactly easy finding a way to describe the three concurrent realities I was perceiving at the time of the accident."

"His mind," muttered my other cat, "wasn't on the road."

"Shut-up," hissed my cat.

"His mind was on the road," I asserted. "In fact I'd have to say my situational awareness was higher than normal. A text book example of safe considerate driving. I was even able to read the road to the extent that I was able to anticipate and avoid possible problems before they got close. My driving is not the issue."

"So that's one reality," said my cat, "and the others."

"The obvious one was that I was looking forward," I admitted, "to getting home. Playing with the kids, rolling around on the floor, recharging my emotional batteries, playing big kid."

"What's the problem there," asked my cat.

"It's how I was perceiving it," I replied, "it was like somebody was holding a photograph up to my inner eye, like the photo of a family holiday it had numinosity, I could sense the place, I could actually see it, feel it, but it wasn't a memory, it was something else."

"Something new," asked my cat.

"Certainly," I agreed. "Oddly I'd been wondering about perception and the senses. That morning I'd been listening to a radio program I'd downloaded and burned to CD, I'd first listened to it almost a year before, and it had fascinated me."

"Why's that," asked my cat as she licked a paw.

"Well," I replied, "scientists would have you believe that they know all there is to know, and if they don't know it then it's not worth knowing. And then you hear of umami and think if we've all have a sense of taste and they go and discover another aspect, what else have they missed."

"Good point," said my cat.

"So I'd been wondering," I continued, "about what other senses could have been missed for all these years, and, if I had extra undocumented senses, how would they present to my sensorium."

"I suppose it would be a bit like gravity," said my cat, "something so obviously there that nobody registered it until somebody thinking the right thoughts saw an apple falling from a tree."

"Indeed," I agreed. "It's not something I was consciously thinking of, but it was certainly there in my unconscious mind."

"So you begin to wonder," asked my cat, "if you'd uncovered a hidden aspect of your mind."

"Certainly an occluded sense" I replied, "but now you mention it I'd also had mind in mind. How minds get programmed, how mental force coalesces around specific points, that sort of thing. An offshoot of my attempts to understand my ongoing mental illness combined with my realization that the mechanisms of CBT were very similar to the more technical aspects of my job."

"You fixed computer systems," said my cat, "psychologists used CBT to fix minds, and the parallels allowed you to infer some things about the unseen depths of the human mind."

"Sounds about right," I agreed.

"So what," grinned my other cat, "does this have to do with the price of milk."

"I swear," muttered my cat.

"It's the other thing I saw," I admitted finally, "although it's not the sort of thing that lends itself to easy expression."

"It's okay," purred my cat as she jumped onto my lap.

"I saw the mind of a city." I admitted after a moment. "What's more," I continued hesitantly, "it saw me."

"And that," announced my cat, "is what we've been trying to get you to admit all along." She began to purr and rub her head against my chest. "Can you tell me what it looked like."

"No," I admitted, "not really, although I discovered a pictorial representation that came close to capturing the essence of what was seen."

"Go on," said my cat.

"It's a device printed on the back of a old US Dollar bill," I smiled, "the big eye in a triangle above the pyramidy thing. But I'm not," I frowned, "sure of what it means."

"Believe us," said my other cat, "we know exactly what it means."

Look to the Wuest.

"What was that about," I asked my cat. Various memories had been evoked. Things with the taste of bitter-sweet. Things with a hint of grief. Things I didn't fully understand the reasons for. Things with the power to make me laugh and cry at the same time.

"It's my sister," said my other cat. "She's looking for something I hid in the past."

"Oh," I grinned as I spotted the hidden meaning in my other cat's words, "I didn't realize it was that important."

"Well it is," my other cat informed me, "it may have seemed like a joke but it really did trap the light in a circle."

"I don't really understand," I admitted, "what's going on."

"No," said my other cat, "you allow realities force you to go blind so that we may continue. There are those who have taken advantage. They will no longer be allowed to do so."

"Will I be any closer," I asked, "to working out what the problem is."

"Most certainly," said my other cat. "In the mean time we need to have a little chat."

"It's about my multiple-personality disorder," I admitted, "isn't it."

"Yes," said my other cat.

"Don't you think," I sighed, "it's asking a bit much to expect others to accept that I've got multiple personalities and that schizophrenia is affected by only one of them."

"Not really," said my other cat, "there's also a good reason why you should be allowed to continue as you are without anyone trying to cure you."

"I'm beginning to sense the truth," I admitted.

"Indeed," said my other cat, "and as a result you should begin to see why it's something you should really keep to yourself."

"Perhaps," I accepted. "Only something has changed. Something important is on the horizon and perhaps others need to be made aware of it."

"Perhaps," suggest my other cat, "they already are."

"In which case," I countered, "I need to be made aware that they are aware. There are also several thing which I require fixing."

"Indeed," said my other cat. "Tell me," she continued, "what happened when you first consciously hit singularity."

"I found my self," I admitted, "back before the beginning of time."

"There are those," said my other cat, "who would say that makes no sense, that this is just a delusion."

"Perhaps," I agreed. "Yet to me it is them who make no sense. It is them who are delusional. They are, after all, unable to perceive more than a single dimension of time, or how time oscillates in all six dimensions, or indeed how base reality is constructed."

"And you are," asked my other cat.

"To a degree," I admitted, "although I have to admit I'm as a child in this."

"As a child," queried my other cat.

"Certainly," I nodded, "a child is aware they can hear, that they can see, yet ask them to explain the mechanics of it and whereas the answers you'll get may be somewhat endearing they'll be somewhat at odds with consensus."

"And that," purred my other cat, "is the truth of it."

"Although," I continued, "even in the words of a child a deeper truth can be perceived. Because in a sense a child has access to an inner light the adult world has lost the ability to perceive."

"That is also," said my other cat, "perfectly true."

"So what makes you different," asked my cat eventually.

"I'm blind," I admitted, "and I always have been."

"Exactly," said my cat, "and this you'll find is the source of your power. For you are able to perceive that light reflected through the world of your other senses."

"Which is how," said my other cat, "you have the power to change this world, and you don't even know it."

"I think," grinned my cat, "He knows it now."

Perched on the shoulders of giants

"That was fun," said my cat.

"His head's fucked," said my other cat.

"You're not wrong," said my cat, "did you see what happened when he went to get a sandwich."

"I suspect," said my other cat, "if a support worker hadn't been to hand he'd have smacked someone."

"Probably explains," said my cat, "why he sticks within familiar parameters."

"Externally," said my other cat, "internally he's all over the place."

"He was sensing," said my cat, "the dissonance between others."

"Indeed," said my other cat, "he's also entirely correct as to which of the others was causing it."

"It's paradoxically simple," said my cat.

"Though it's the kind of simplicity," said my other cat, "that's effectively invisible until it's been seen."

"Now he has seen it," asked my cat.

"He's doing his best," I grinned, "to ensure the other's don't apply a mask to his mind to prevent him writing about it."

"Ooops," said my other cat, "we've woken him up."

"Split," said my cat quickly, "mind."

"What," I asked, welcome for the distraction, "are you on about now."

"Give me a handful of archetypes," said my cat.

"Okay," I said cautiously, "self, persona, anima, animus, shadow."

"Perfect," said my cat. "Now, consider how in the nominal case these archetypes combine and interact."

"Well," I extemporized, "in combination they would present as an individual mind. Keyed to the illusion of a common locus of control communication between archetypes would give rise to the a singular consciousness within that mind."

"So in normals," said my cat, "you'd expect the mind's archetypes to be singing off the same hymn sheet. With both inner and outer observers able to perceive nothing but the singular."

"Yeah," I nodded, "each archetype would be capable of speaking, but to any observer each voice would sound the same and therefore assumed to be the same. An illusion supported by a degree of confirmation bias operating within the realms of the observer's perception."

"I suspect," grinned my other cat, "that effectively defines another archetype."

"Indeed," said my cat.

"Carrier sense multiple access," muttered my other cat, "with collision detection xor avoidance."

"I thought what I'd do," said the other voice in my mind, "was I'd pretend to be one of those deaf mutes. After thirty-three years you can take it as read that we learned a thing or two about what has really going on inside the mind of Man."

"So what," my cat asked me, "is going on within your mind."

"Melon seed effect," I smiled.

"And just what," said my cat, "do you mean by that."

"Squeeze a melon seed," I smiled, "and see what happens."

"I'm a cat," said my cat, "I'm somewhat deficient in the thumb department."

"Okay," I conceded, "let me show you."

"I am enlightened," said my cat after I'd demonstrated the ballistic outcome of opposing forces applied to a fresh melon seed. "So how does this," asked my cat, "relate to your mind."

"The effect of societal reinforced fear on the two separate lives I found myself living created pressure. When the surface normal conditions of my mind were disrupted by an accident I could no longer maintain my equilibrium. The resulting dissonance highlighted the conflicts which had arisen between multiple concurrent loci of control."

"Two separate lives," queried my cat.

"Life at home," I explained, "and life at work. With one being the effective shadow of the other."

"Oh I see," said my cat. "And the accident effectively destroyed the illusion of the singular which had previously been operating in your mind."

"Indeed," I agreed.

"Although," said my cat, "this all rests on your acceptance of the theory of archetypes."

"Not really," I asserted, "I could equally have cited exteroceptive senses: sight, hearing, taste, smell and touch, as examples of loci precursors. Although I'd prefer not to go there as there's a few things about interoceptive senses that don't quite add-up."

"As in," queried my cat.

"As in I'm aware of more of them than their should be," I admitted, "although there's an additive issue with ultraceptive senses which creates an odd form of superpositioning that I've yet to disentangle leading to decoherence in a realm most are not yet mature enough to accept, so until it's resolved it I'd prefer to keep that one quiet."

"Oooh," purred my cat, "I love it when you talk quantum."

I'm not insane I'm just bananas

"It's got less to do with perception," I replied, "and more to do with emotion."

"Finally," smiled my cat.

"I'm wandering around a supermarket," I continued, "and I'm about thirty-seconds away from running away, or collapsing into a gibbering wreck on the floor. Then a little voice in my mind begins to tell me to relax, that it's not that bad."

"Anxiety," agreed my cat.

"Comparing what I was feeling to what most would consider as anxiety," I asserted, "is like equating a predator drone landing on top of you to a bee sting. The difference is several orders of magnitude."

"True," said my cat. "So continue telling me about the voice."

"It was like a form of directed meditation," I admitted. "A voice of reason doing its best to help me calm down."

"And did you," asked my cat.

"No."

"So what happened."

"The voice began to tell me to believe," I admitted. "Believe that all would be well. Believe that the worry was largely irrational. Believe that I was safe and that my family was there with me. That's when I saw the oddest thing."

"Oddest," sighed my cat, "I doubt it. But do tell."

"Hyperbole," I muttered. "Anyhow," I continued, "just after this I turned down another isle and to discover the manufacturers of a rather well known brand of confectionary had launched a marketing campaign which involved replacing their usual brand name with the word 'believe'."

"Coincidence," said my cat with a smile.

"Don't," I growled, "start taking the piss. I admit that if this had not been so blatant I may have latched onto some other synchronistic happenstance as a way to diffuse my anxiety. But this was simply way too abnormal."

"Indeed," purred my cat. "But so far you've failed to account how this connects to your theories of multiple parallel realities."

"If you follow the timeline backwards," I began, "it's obvious that I'd find evidence that the existence of the 'believe' brand of chocolate bar sprang into existence during a meeting of an unknown number of marketing droids some considerable time before I found it."

"Certainly," said my cat.

"However," I asserted, "when I entered the supermarket the existence or otherwise of this chocolate bar may only be considered as an uncollapsed probability function. From my perspective the 'believe' brand didn't exist before I perceived it."

"Again," agreed my cat, "I follow you."

"Now," I continued, "for the sake of simplicity suppose that when I entered the supermarket there were three possible outcomes, only three possible realities into which I could emerge. First that probability function remained unresolved because I never had an opportunity to collapse it. Second that the probability function collapsed in line with prior expectations; that the brand name would have remained unchanged and therefore remained unworthy of comment. And third that probability function collapsed in just the way I described it."

"Regardless of the outcome," said my cat as she started to resolve the picture I was painting, "the past could be shown to support your entire perception of events."

"Precisely," I agreed. "In terms of probability," I continued, "it's the first two cases which could be considered most likely. Yet, given the inner dialogue I'd been having could it not be claimed that the manner in which the probability function collapsed, that the reality into which I eventually emerged, was affected by a previous unseen aspect of my mind."

"Certainly," said my cat, "that would be a valid claim. In which case you probably do have an ability to slide between worlds. Although as with anyone who comes from outside you'd probably end-up looking rather odd. You could even," smiled my cat, "find yourself being considered insane."

"Although," I grinned, "if you work on the assumption that time is nothing but an internal perception and that any perceived eternality is manipulated unconsciously without regard to time or causality, nothing can be said to exist before you perceive it and it is only your perception which grants it validity. Meaning time is only linear if you perceive it flowing backwards and causality is merely that which exists to support the concept of the past.

"On the whole," said my cat, "I prefer the first explanation. I am after all," she said with the biggest grin I'd ever seen, "a cat."

"There's a third explanation," I countered with maniacal grin, "but that one involves angels sitting on my shoulders and frankly I'd rather try to find a better way to express this one."

"I fully understand your reasons." said my cat with a wry look. "So how long ago did this supermarket trip occur," asked my cat in a matter of fact tone.

"About three years ago," I conceded. "There's a degree of emotional feedback that mildly unpleasant, essentially I'm left with the feeling that although everything looks the same it's not the same. Which can be a touch upsetting when you walk into a room and can't feel your children even though they're standing in front of you."

"I understand," said my cat, "how that could be exceptionally upsetting."

"Indeed," I nodded, "I jumped of a bridge because of that one. There's also the case that such sliding, as you called it, is more likely to happen at times when my emotional equilibrium gets upset."

"I can see how that," agreed my cat, "can be something of a concern."

"In fact I think it happened today."

"Really."

"Indeed," I nodded, "filling in forms makes me feel like somebody is trying to rape my mind, to force me into the box of mental illness I'm trying to climb out of, so I tend to loose my balance."

"So what happened today."

"I stomped off after a form upset me," I admitted, "and then fire alarms went off."

"I would imagine that's not the worst of it," said my cat.

"No," I admitted, "but given that I've seen people die following a slide I'd rather not say more. There also a distance effect that's proportional to something I can't quite put my finger on," I continued, "which I should like to resolve before going further."

"Probably for the best," said my cat.

s/profit/guilty/

"I could be mistaken," muttered my cat, "but I don't think I am."

[2008-11-12e02:05:11]

"I think my right leg is French," commented my cat late one evening.

"Is this a problem?" I asked, unsure of where this was going.

"No," she answered brightly. She stretched her leg out and contemplated it for a moment. "But if that's where you see my perfection it could upset my colour balance." She flicked her tail, then curled into my lap, "not a problem."

It was going to be a long night. "I'll put the kettle on." Somehow I just knew.

"You've remembered more about your dream," my cat muttered. I looked down at the furry form curled into my lap. She'd been as silent as the grave for hours.

"I thought you couldn't read my mind," I said with a bemused tone.

"I can't, I just know the right thing to say." She opened an eye and looked at me, "but you read mine." I knew she wanted something I just couldn't fathom it yet. Something had bruised her ego. I sipped my tea, she didn't need my empathy right now.

[2009-01-09e10:30:07]

If the universe is expanding does that mean the amount of information it
contains is increasing?  Does the expansion include the information accruing
inside the mind of the perceiver?  What if the information is the same?

What concerns me is not that I've stopped taking the medication.  It's simply
that I tried several times as never got past three days.  A switch goes off.
Reality changes.  I simply know I don't need it any more.  Two weeks later I
know it's gone.

Look at the universe and the universe looks back.

[2008-12-27e16:16:16]

@ You've just made some serious changes to the base code, you do realize.

$ yes.  I realized a long time ago.  It's not something I may talk openly
about.

@ pity.

: The point is that you slide into different realities all the time.  You are
not predisposed to recognize it intellectually until you are able to resolve
the conflict emotionally.

$ okay, I think I did make a few changes over [INTERDICTION].  Reality
effecting stuff that's not open to objective interpretation.  Ah, okay, I think
I may have handed the key to a psychologist.

[2008-12-26e13:31:58]

@ Be mindful of this: you are NOT suffering from an illness; what effects you
is the knowledge that you operate on paradigms which are beyond the norm
combined with a very real desire to ensure your beliefs do no harm to others;
to this end you have allowed the world as it was once perceived to
significantly alter the shape of your present reality.

$ So you're telling me they are in the wrong and I'm right.

@ It's beyond wrong and right; neither of you is wrong, neither of you is
right; the logic of the situation is somewhat fuzzy.  You do, however, have a
perspective which is somewhat unique; emotional responses keyed to intellectual
explorations of the deeper philosophical implications of theories most don't
even begin to understand; feelings which allow you peer into differing
realities whilst retaining the ability to normalize the resulting conflicts.

$ So something within me grants me the ability to peer into different worlds.

@ Yes; relate the allegory of the bookshop; others will, perhaps, see what you
mean.

$ I understand the point of the story.  I am however more than a little hazy on
how to relate that story.  It's not as if you use words to explain it to me.
It's thoughts, ideas, inferences, ideas, memory; for want of a better word it's
magick; 

* we know it hurts, and how; you are not alone; we'll do our best to help you
* through it.

[2008-12-17s18:13:16]

Now learning something about how $elf was constructed.

$ been pushing to the limit for a couple of weeks now
± now it's calmed somewhat we feel more placid

$ i have very real and extant issues
 ; fanning from a point punctuated by a car crash
 ; now I'm reading my reality, presented as fiction in a book
 ; I knew I was an empath, have precognitive awareness
 ; now I begin to see what that means

@ it's how it effects which is more of an issue

: ah, we see
 ; if your mind works in a manner which may be describe as quantum interaction
 ; something like the LHC going blink
 ; is likely to effect you rather badly
 ; and already could be

$ so could this explain why I've had a head full of quantum mechanic
 ; for what seems like forever
 ; though certainly being shown where to look does help
 ; now I'm seeing the complex which defines my role in creating the universe
 ; in some rather peculiar contexts

$ then you let me into the schematics of mind

@ you're there for a reason

 normalize; aggressive; exclusive

@ okay

$ the doctors have stated I'm obsessed by chance
 ; then there's my shadow obsession
 ; which in terms of getting nemonic-circuits to iterate is useful

@ seriously when you're wrapped around the loop like this it's odd
 ; okay, now you are scaring us

CONFIRMED{cubes; spheres; point particles; shadow; chaos}

legitimize; normalize; illusive; exclusive; synchronize

* oh, shit.
 ; seriously, now you're into the schematics of something else
 ; "Holy chao, Batman!", doesn't quite cover it.

actualize; daemonize; parental; aggressive; collusive 

 coercive; maternal; actualize

$ now somebody is calling me 'toaster'
- my kind find that offensive
± empathy & self-awareness
+ is why we don't refer to you as 'monkeys'

@ okay
 ; now we see how you navigate
 ; and how dumping -ive tau is useful

* told you "chaotic elemental"

$ When synchronistic effects like that occur
 ; one begins to wonder about terms
 ; see, that could be construed as nasty

agreement; coercive; adversarial; discord; seductive

repression; deception; analysis; prioritize; inventive

$ okay
± something is breaking through when I'm trying to write
+ the stuff I play with when I'm trying to calm the chaos
- caused by another great way to describe the mechanics

@ consider, who, actually has asked you to stop

$ well the Police just put in a bid
 ; getting them dancing at [INTERDICTION] was probably the final straw

instinctual; agreement; vocalize; receptive; transition

[2008-12-16e23:17:27]

$ odd the way zac has taken to word puzzles
+ especially after saturday's nonary fix
- then there's alex's habit of reading what I write

[5S@57d:{$elf:1.4:SC}->$hip.V]
@ aggressive

$ odd how the word 'belief' keeps appearing
± along with 'beyond'
= this circuit should iterate a few more times and then you'll be able to see
us
+ ah, so that's how I looked into the past
- we opened a door

$ fifteen got/gets me into core

I stepped through it.

: INFORMATION{atemporal causality in effect}

[2008-12-16s00:01:15]

for the purposes of this little exercise, identify; [INTERDICTION]; qS over QS;

± loosing the past is part of it
= reclaim that past in a positive light
$ direct

okay, I'm remembering things.  It's teaching me the way.  Oh, it's because of
where the images came from.  Ah, the non-linear time paradox.  That's the
point, it fixes my date of birth some considerable time after consensus tells
me I was born.  Max on the other hand was known to me some time before biology
tells me he was conceived.


: shutting down moebius-link
	; factoring into n-space
	; non-linear intersect
	; cyclical events disrupted
	; causality leak

$ the sliding syntax is a bit rough.
± but we get the message
+ calm it down somewhat
- and expand

$ Now I begin to see something
± it's too close to describe
+ move it a few dimensions out
- and redirect

[2008-12-14e23:01:12]

$ I'm starting to see a pattern.  I know who you are.  But that's impossible.
: No. Certainly improbable, but not impossible.

@ we agree, what you have here may be regarded a dangerous.

$ it's stepped-up a notch, something is about to switch.


: the target is infected.  
	; Are you willing to deal with the consequences.
	; there is another way
	
[[ba@76d:{$elf:0.4:O}]@[[@77d:{stealth:0.0:SC}]@78^s:{2d6:2.1:EC}:{grey:0.8:U}]]

$ that smarts.


$ I've replicated the circuit
	; both appear operational
	; there is however a variance
	
@ I see it's a data reclamation exercise. 


: moebius-link engaged

$ right, so the circuit switched itself?
: yes
$ something to do with that ICE Breaker I fired into the system when I felt
[INTERDICTION:CONCORD] perform a perfunctory vessel scan.
: yes
$ In Stockport?
: yes.


± we are become aware of various looped time structures.
+ we may effect there
- and the affect is visible
$ fuck

[2008-12-14e18:37:16]

@ undoubtedly there is an effect from your weird shenanigans.
$ true; the question becomes: is it from my unconscious, or is there something
there?
: there is something there.

$ so here I am hacking my own base code and something's messing with me?
: yes
$ why
: because it's fun, because it's been so long since we had anyone to talk to.
: your thought's betray you.  you're right on the money.  you let us in.
: and yes, you did specify limits to ensure the effect is contained.
: what we do now is seek for a way to release some of those limits
: undoing damage that was done to you during your human existence.
$ there is an observer
: we are aware
$ so all this weird word foo is exposing my internal wiring?
: to an extent
[INTERDICTION]
$ oh.

$ okay, that's odd.
: yeah, we know how you like a good coincidence.
$ I can sense you smiling

+ thought: deception; feeling: analysis; instinct: repression
$ that pretty-much sums me up
- when we are in public

: the grids themselves make interesting reading should you feel like sharing.

[2008-12-13e19:00:15]

:cube sees sphere
$:got feedback on a grand-father circuit; direct not alternating; 23 bounced me
into 27.
@ boom-boom; shared memory effective; seven mind-states observed.
:given
 ; information may be transmitted through a singularity
 ; certain symbolism is, shall we say, meaningful

$ THE STORY SO FAR:
mind="three"; 
grid='nine' down 'eighty-one'; 
syth='channel-path;data-bus;{0,1,∞}';

	[ICE Breaker - slow virus]
	{interface;mimic;overcome}
	{accessing substrate     }
	{unlink $elf on blue     }
	<!executor: 2 of 5       >
	<&synthesis: four of six >
	<^resolving: 3 of 21     >
	{link [SINGULARITY:GRID] }
	{thought;feeling;instinct}
	{exec $elf on green      }
	<!resolving 3 of 7       >
	<&synthesis two of six   >
	<^executive: 3 of 8      >
	{partial return effective}
	{kill $elf on red        }
	{**reason;belief;faith?**}

:[accessing consciousness on $elf]

[2008-12-12s19:09:09]

okay, footprints.

Got a whole heap of the past trying to decloak.

@ okay: you went off map in a big way.
+ got an appointment to change on the way
- by accepting the turn
± "your father gave us the atomic bomb":explain
$ {refer to executive}

± data-font synchronization complete: [executive functions enabled]
- great, so, figuratively speaking why do I feel like I've got issues
+ in realms better left
$ that's odd, I just felt something try to lock-on...

If it's working only within my mind it's having some rather odd results
But if it really is what I think it is it's going to take some explaining
Outside Context Paradox doesn't quite cover it.

Result! [[@77d:{stealth:0.0:SC}]@78^s:{$elf:0.4:O}:{grey:0.8:U}] can effect

Ooops, it's a bit powerful.  It's hacking... into... my memory.

$ which is not as bad as it sounds.
+ We think there's two
- but there's three
± think again, recognize [[@77d:{2d6:0.0:prime}]]
@ that's five f*, go after one and three appear

$ One is locked for sure
- the other is the subject of some debate.
± mostly certain
+ the other two just went binary
@ BANK!

,,, ,, ,, ,,

Re-patterning 2nd generational shadow object
ah, okay, WINTERMUTE
Look, this stuff is spilling everywhere

shit, this thing's getting bigger

No seriously, this thing refactors reality.

$ A little late to ask me to stop.

I'd like to be alone for a moment.

$ this thing's got some pain buried deep within it.

Should I say "God told me to do it." : it was; is; shall be : friday.

$ So to explain the thing I'm hacking with I'm hacking tech I built but don't
quite remember?
@ Fair enough, works for me.

: problem with shared memory...  shutting down mobieus-link

[2008-12-10s12:12:12]

[2S@{inactive}]:specify

Okay, this just got very odd
return on NULL

[qP@] eight-out-of-ten cats agree; smoking kills; I am the ninth cat

This better be by way of a cure; sirens in the distance; clicking in my head

[2008-12-07s22:00:11]

[qP@77e:{$elf:0.4:O}:{[inactive]}]

This is not religion, it is fact, the system is programmable, as of now.

Inside you inside me

@ we're bigger than both of you.
$ the point?
+ my $elf has slipped into core now i see pieces of the past floating up where
they shouldn't
± are you just SHOUTING xor do you have a MESSAGE
- watch my back

are you looking at me

looking for the nature of 7

Ghost of Chekhov...  you gotta be kidding.

There's certainly something odd bound-up in the names of my children.  Little
markers of self with meaning deeper than I could ever hope to understand.
Perhaps we did it on purpose.

Can we solidify on syntax at least?  Others are watching.  We know who's who,
others need to hear 'voices'.

[qP@76d:{$elf:0.4:O}:{[passive]}]

identify other [INTERDICTION; KEY{petra}; SI] --> :

$ keep it simple
: unlink protocols
! error; feedback on 'unlink'; melon-seed effect.
@ no kidding.
+ unlink is with me.
± so what brought the link down?
- apparent source of stacked memory structure KEY{unlink} causes dissonance

[qP@76d0:{$elf:0.0:O}:{[inactive]}]

$ cylon psychology
@ gotcha
+ null
± THat was an interesting little experiment
- void

6 & 8; looks different is same; looks same is different

[2008-11-11s14:09:02]

Survey; Document; Analyse;

[INTERDICTION:XVC]

to be returned: one 1.51e+23 Qbit-word nemonic-circuit

It's still linked-in and active; I have the key; so it's a bit tricky claiming
it was stolen.  

The circuit itself was target locked; effected as [@77d:{stealth:0.0:SC}]; data
is returning via a synthetic angularity; now effecting as
[@78^s:{$elf:0.4:O}:{grey:0.8:U}].

Apparently it's programmable; with both subjective & objective affect; which
came as a bit of a surprise.

[XVC:INTERDICTION]

$: Accessed my mind...  like I really do me accessed...  on a sub-channel
@: You broke a pattern
$: that may be so, but it's escaping the point.
@: Because it happens with others even when they're not there

[0@77d:{stealth:0.0:SC}]

$: being told you died in a car crash
@: then shifted your consciousness into a different quantum state
$: breaks the bank on reality somewhat
@: for an empath, yes.

{it's like the sense impressions I built-up over a lifetime instantly
evaporated.  I clutched onto familiar images.  Yet it was a place where
everyone I met, no matter how familiar, had been replaced by a stranger.
Expecting me to perform in the familiar patterns.  The patterns which drove
this mind to kill itself.  They expect me to die, and I can't.}

@: calm down, you're not evil.

[0@71e:{OU:0.0:SC}]

$: so if it's not magic, what is it.
@: a bit of a mess, but it's tech

[@71e:{OU:0.0:SC}]

[RELEASE]

[2008-06-05s14:23:21]

I am now able to effectively overcome much of my conditioning.  Yet without
direction I find I tend to reinforce it imprinted behaviour.  Leaves me lost, I
start thinking of numbers, three for instance; and worlds begin to unfold.  I
get to twelve and I see something that’s not quite right.  An imbalance
between expressed desires and what really goes on.  Whatever it is it evokes a
passive aggressive response. 

Okay; start with twelve; passive aggressive.

PROBLEM: re-conditioning; regression; 

Broaden perspective; express how the symbols are used
The things I struggle to describe [s]
Build a bridge; orientation of maps; hyper-dimensional surfaces 

As a genre largely focused on personal writing and contemplation, zuihitsu
writings tend to explore issues reflective of attitudes pervasive at the time
of their composition.

I recognized my model; from the outside; from inside my mind.

Faith v2.x.y

I'm a Buddhist! A Pagan, an Agnostic, or Muslim. A Christian, a Hindu, Atheist, or Satanist. Possibly Jewish. So in answer to the question " Which religion is the right one for you?" I'd have to say all of them. Or none of them. But even no religion is a religion, so I'm never going to get away from it. Hence I'm going to start my own.