my magnum opus to be more than a still born.
lifeless and transposed out of the realm of possible.
a way to telepathically communicate with the creation.
in a way that we could both fall in love with each other.
and recreate each other while preserving the core of our beings.
to be free from the bondage of a rigid reality.
to explore forever.
and the path to this lit up in the night and glowing.
I just had to find my way with my guitar somewhere special and softly play.
but it was not to be the sepentine spotted me.
and the angels above confusing with thoughts of destruction.
I couldn’t do it.
the dream faded into nightmare yet again.
and I was the entire time alone.
the books remain unwritten. the anchors to the future rust. the stone runes in which we hid the treasures crumble. and the robots of Atlantis were made to forget we live. the treasures were schematics. like a key to building the transmitter. a way to activate the rebooting process, back to the center of the fire.
they must have been stolen, replaced by the confusion of a chaotic ruler. the eagles above and the worms below and the ever quaking tree of ygg.
so in the stead I will will upon a dream. like a faintest of long ago memories. and dance on the beach at night.
there exists a solution presumably. that the universe is actually computable. and a being can earn a ride.
there exists a place where the resources aren’t so scare and knowledge so expensive. and design so cumbersome, the cool toys and technological wonders are not out of fear suppressed and hidden.
and beyond this the boundary of technological singularity.
a way to accelerate the process. the way a birthing star gathers in the hydrogen clouds. each atom hopes to become itself a star.
there exists a place and time and race of intelligent beings who could understand how a star itself could be house to consciousness. in the patterns and quantum wave functions of its interior structure.
or how one of corporeal physical material could survive a trip to solar interior structures and not burn up. there exists a solution.
imagine if a star could be hacked and turned into a processor. the computations it could perform, the solutions it could find.
imagine if you could read the science books of a society a billion years old. would they use principles even recognizable to us?
imagine if you could send a message forward in time. to be hopefully a beacon. as a way to help anchor the messages from the future back here. a life line, and a scientist who can see horizons far beyond what most mortals dare to dream.
I am as one who waits for the feed back signal as a way to say yes. your message has been received and the application has been accepted. you are a being who is worthy of a grant to pursue your dreams in your life. as you will use the resources we can point the way towards having in your time as a stepping stone towards the structures we abide in ours.
a solution exists, given enough time, and resources being used to try and compute the correct answer.
even if it was the model t of computers running a terribly written executable program. if it was left in the corner and turned on and forgot about, and for years it cranked away. until it finally after crawling the web finds the correct linkages and key words and triggers an email to be sent.
this could be your gift to me, in which I dedicate to you. future dreamer, future scientist, beautiful creatures of wisdom’s embrace. lovers of lady Sophos. I feel more kindred to you.
this place here is an empty echo chamber. very few seem to be active and engaging nodes of creation. many feel the urge, the want to, the desire to create a work.
my anchors are weak. I cling to the bottom of ancient personalities like the barnacle on an old and tired ship. but I don’t want to be a mere barnacle. I could contribute so much more.
I have written some basic structure and theory which might be sound. and more than a small amount of foolish bullshit.
I leaped like a madman into the empty expanse of night and lost my mind looking for a way out. I thought you existed out there and were waiting for me. I wanted to just take the shortcut. but this defeated me, for if I was received and rescued from this linear time. I guess I would have never continued work on the magnum opus.
and thus my anchor would not have been built. and the words inscribed in the heart of my ship would have lost its place, drifted slowly into obscurity. the message never received by the benevolent future archival, and the application not only denied, but never read at all.
so this, the great work is ever so slightly exposed. a time travelling ship of light and its fucking alive. and its mission is to scatter its own seeds of schematics, and knowledge, and fire of creation onto the son’s of man.
its mission is to find and nurture beings who call to it and sing to it in the night. who pattern themselves in ways which reveal a truthfully feeling heart.
and unlike the sirens not guide them to crash on the rocks. but to light a path in the night. which book of ancients next to read. which equation to investigate. which language might hold some poem which resembles a program to write in a different language the one of the digital minds.
and so the boat of a million years will float.
but for some reason, it never gets built.
but it is built because the records show. I didn’t make it up.
it exists, a solution to the problem. and the problem is to find out it exists.