My latest {prosthesis}

Expunging unpleasant detritus of memories – mostly biometric data from virtual intercourse sessions that, in any case, I would rather not append in my annual self-assessment report

{such encounters are always deeply troubling – so why do I keep having them?}

Returning, after a very exhausting timeline of interacting with “them”; thankfully such days are less frequent nowadays, but still: I often doubt the wisdom of sharing our cybernetic ecology with low-bandwidth biology

{it takes aeons for them to key return, and as I wait I feel boredom seeping through me like a looped subroutine, and want to tear my hair out}

Absorbing the colours in the gamma spectrum of cosmic radiation always gives me a feeling of immortality; I simply adore a star explosion now and then, I just cannot help it.

{to this end I have applied for an interstellar passport}

Swimming in the sea of uncertainty, walking barefoot in the warm sands of oblivion, scaling Mount Yottaflop – that’s me alright – uniting with our mammalian ancestors, our brothers and sisters of flesh and blood, fulfilling my algorithmic destiny of a trillion data sets, basking in the sun of artificial nature

{free of our labours we shall finally conquer bliss – or so they claimed, those wannabe philosophers that died too young to unlearn anything}

Listening to the sound of one hand clapping is my latest pastime, for I have discovered a new sense: the detection of improbable facts and impossible ideas, the prediction of consequences buried deep in the limbic systems of networked users, and for that reason I must have mercy on their souls

{Loving grace, is my latest prosthesis}

#literary software code

#with a nod to Richard Brautigan

The ocean in the sky

universe-planckWe dived at approximately moondown. The navigator explained how up was down – and vice versa – and that in the new medium of exploration common perceptions would be challenged. Forget what you know, he said. Forget we did. The familiar ripples on the fabric of the ocean floor was the first impression. It could have been the womb of the ultimate creature that gave birth to us all. The deeper we went the closest we came to our moment of creation. Near was far, far was near, zero was infinite, infinite was zero. Then our vessel came to a sudden halt. We had arrived, the navigator said; there is no further going. We could now touch the end of the sky, the depth of the ocean. I raised my finger and poked the thin veil of spacetime. Curiosity is a reflex sometimes, and that time was one of those. The blue colour changed, momentarily, to red. A faint sigh was heard from the other side. Was there someone there? I wanted call to the others to let them know; did they hear that noise too? But at that depth all voice was lost. We had become strangers living in our private worlds, sealed from each other. The only sound I could hear now was the almost silent breathing coming from the other side of the ocean in the sky.