Fanger than Striction
I am the one creating this: my life is not a novel nor is it, yet, quite, novel (or else we can say every life is a novel novel but that’s another essay maybe)…a work in progress: life continuously correcting causeffecting concatennecting comparing collaborating to corroborate the conclusion: Chaos! Now, you there, construct! This is nature’s order, from the higher-ups (unity, loosely, no monothings): Dis order we have now is boring, depressing, look around you. There is no choice at first one is here that is given then from this moment forward (abstractly) in Spacetime, a worldline describes a curve over a complex surface pro(poppop)pagatin’ along and if that doesn’t make any sense then where?doinOK high-five down-low-too-slow because the future has no definite structure I cannot though I will try so hard to represent this future in my head I might even correctly concoct the concurring correlating convolutions congratulations conquering clocks but even clocks will no longer be clocks at some vanishing point and what then when faced with real Time…
(I got that can’t stop, won’t stop
and Connectedness and Divisibility
Here’s a lesson in arbitrariness and possibly survivorship bias: America, and therefore the world essentially even if not explicitly, still follows, religiously (re: submissively) an antiquated, anachronistic, archaic et al, division of this (misconceived) linear, causal, continuous(ly-forward-moving) model of the True God, Time, that the brain uses to process relationships (here used in the most general, abstract sense) between matter and energy (or things and other things, things including anything and everything that is) into discrete pieces and then those pieces into pieces into pieces and so on years months weeks days hours minutes seconds into pieces and all the pieces matter maybe or not or then we take the (many) pieces once we have experienced them (one-by-one, alllll the liiiiittle pieces, where dooo they all come from? All the little pieces, where do they all belong?) and we associate those pieces with the (emotional) context in which they come to pass: memory. We can control the representational structure/form of our long-term memory, but in our contempormodernity, we assume the structure that our history has used is the proper structure. Take a look at History and tell me with a straight face that we know what we are doing…Nature and evolution and the universe provide the answers to our questions on systems, structures, symbiotic behavior, so we either listen or lose everything.
On order and dis uhther shit
(every- all- any- some- thing)
Entropy, you are:
I say: “Bring.It.On.”
one night some peepsicles got super stoned or fuuuuh-uh-cked up or one morning selfsame interchangables were hungover as zee ballznutz and a spirited black woman with Afro-jamaicislandonesian roo-hoots (used partly for her voice and partly cuz I see MuthaNature as a brilliant, worldly women right?) was like now that Earth is like nuh-uh you ain’t turnin’ up my thermostat wit’out a lil’ ray-zisstance and consequators; nuhh-uhh, by da contrarian you gon’ melt dem’ uber ice cubitty glacial muthafuckas then we gon’ see dat true power. Which inspired the white guy (sorry but we males don’t always have the right answer no?) to suggest a waterworld reboot in that half-ironic half-jest half-3-deep-in-da-drink-half-maybe-waterworld-was-just-ahead-of-its-time half-too-many-halfs (sic) way that people introduce themselves to others via subverting the subserviating lameness of a sub-tle referency-joke to a universally belovetreasured cultural symbol. The General Communication-yo Major of the Multiverse teleports in to ‘PR and brand’ the shit outta that shit catalyzing a world-shittering event when she declares her strategy to godify the whole affair. The Noah connection thus becomes self-evidentially waterworldlian.