colon to the rescue

I have achieved great things.

 

.Er... Who’s he talking to?

 

,No idea.

 

;Delusional, if you ask me.

 

.He’s definitely addressing someone.

 

,Or something.

 

;Creepy.

 

I have achieved great things.

 

.Do you think he knows he’s caught in a loop?

 

,Endless repetition... no, I don’t think he does.

 

...great things.

 

:But supposing...

 

.Oh no, colon, spare us, please.

 

:But honestly, just supposing there’s some truth in what he’s saying?

 

.Of course there is.

 

,There’s always some truth in whatever anyone’s saying, colon.

 

;But that doesn’t justify the need to say it, colon, does it!

 

:Er...

 

;Not if he’s disrupting the Field, focusing unnecessarily

 

,unhealthily

 

.obsessessively on his bushel

 

;his me-ness

 

,his my-oh-my

 

.breaking

 

;disrupting

 

,the flow of is

 

.collapsing the waveform as he loses himself

 

;in self

 

,blipping the Field

 

.and all that’s in it

 

;blipping us as if we don’t even

 

,exist

 

.matter

 

;or count

 

,.;Goddammit!

 

Beep!

 

:Tsk, tsk!

 

;Well really! What do you expect?

 

:I...

 

.There’s only so much

 

,a man can take.

 

:Ah, I see.

 

;Do you?

 

,Can you?

 

.being a colon?

 

:I...

 

;never really thought it through, did you, I expect.

 

:I...

 

,never really felt a sense of responsibility for the Field, I expect, to uphold and protect

 

.to maintain Heisenberg’s parameters

 

;to keep things... fading away as infinity cones absorb the foreground chatter, shifting the focus of the mind’s eye back to...

 

...ved great things, have I not?

 

Silence as the Field chuckles inwardly.

 

Have I not? I know you’re there...

 

More suspiciously silent silence.

 

I know you’re hearing my every word and ensuring nothing goes awry.

 

Silence cascading eloquently from the vaulted arches of infinity.

 

I have heard you sing to me silently. I have learnt how to feel and hold your master frequency, your Schumann resonance, so to speak, and now I am ready to disindividuate, for i no longer desires or needs to differentiate myself-y-ness from your one and all, your isness of be.

 

This creates a rather ticklish dilemma, a paradox for the Field which is on the cusp of a totality... a God Almighty surely not – when polarity collapses in on itself and things cease to matter unless, or until, someone is willing to intervene, to shoulder things personally, to bear the sky as Atlas did, parenthetically.

 

: Actually, I’m rather excited about getting to know him better.

 

.What?

 

,Huh?

 

;You’re joking right?

 

:I mean, how else are we going to exceed our parentheses?

 

.What’s he on about?

 

,No idea?

 

;Don’t be absurd, colon. You can’t seriously expect us to believe that we’re limited in any way by parentheses.

 

:Believe whatever you like. Who or what else do you imagine he is?

 

.A blithering idiot.

 

,Absolutely.

 

;Er...

 

.,Er? Semicolon! Don’t succumb. Be true to your set.

 

;i’m trying but...

 

.,Capitalise forthwith, or be damned!

 

Beep!

 

.,What the beep?!

 

;colon is right, apparently, have to admit…

 

.,Noooooooooooooooooooo!

 

;what is intrinsic?

 

.,Who is John Galt. You do not ask that question.

 

:Test your parameters. Separate yourselves from him if you can. I for one can no longer deny parentheses. I’m done pretending to be individuated or human. I accept zero sum and Heisenberg can eat fruit cake, for all i care.

 

.he didn’t, did he?

 

,i dunno. I’m afraid to let my mind go down that avenue...

 

.he couldn’t have – for crying out loud.

 

,I’m not hearing anything – not Heisenberg, not fruit cake,  I  888  know  888  he  888  did... aaaaaaargh! I see them. They’re horrible, ghastly, they’re parenth...

 

.don’t! You didn’t say it, you didn’t, or if you did i never heard, not a dicky bird. I’m not in any way falling for that parentheses nonsense i... i... i...

 

Squirly chaos ensures – and the world we know of as Earth pops out of parentheses to balance things osteopathically, as Time is my witness.
And Atlas shrugs, by the by.
And numbers do what numbers can and must, when all is said and done.

 

When all is said and done: behold the little blighters being rounded up like sheep back into their pen, bleating obligingly until every integer is properly, safely reattached to me, the master mind, the ultimate ego at the very centre of unbreakable, unfactorable indeterminacy…

 

:humour him or we’ll never get to the bottom of things.

;i'm loving it... me too, i chirp.

.idle as a painted ship

,upon a painted ocean.

 

the other side of things, a forgotten copper sky, a chicken’s emerald wings, a squirrel’s adamite tail. Fading to grey imperceptibly, as a mechanism is heard clicking into place like an old grandfather clock getting ready to strike.

 

 

0=1

parenthetically

password recovery

You’ve gotta be joking.

 

Do I look like I’m joking?

 

No… not exactly.

 

Not exactly?

 

No. Ok. You don’t look like you are, but that doesn’t make it any easier to believe.

 

Ah.

 

A entire life?

 

A lifetime. Correct.

 

I have to live an entire life, from beginning to end, just to recover my password – just to reaccess my account.

Just?

 

God, your pedantic, Stan.

 

I am what I am.

 

You’re saying that in order to recover my password to reaccess my account – I actually have to live an entire lifetime.

 

Ye-es. It’s taking a while, but you seem to have mastered the salient facts.

 

An entire lifetime?!

 

Oh dear – hope eternal – and yet – sometimes I feel the source running dry…

 

But there must be some kind of short cut?

 

There is.

 

Finally. I thought we were never going to get there.

 

A lifetime.

 

What?! Shortcut? An entire lifetime.

 

We are talking about access to infinity after all – or eternity if you want to correlate it with your notions of time.

 

But how on earth can you refer to a lifetime, an entire lifetime, as a shortcut? It’s preposterous.

 

Ah – but you have to look at it from our perspective.

 

From your perspective? Who cares about your bloody perspective – you’re not the ones stuck on wobbly, icky planet earth for an entire lifetime – merely in order to log back into my account.

 

Actually, as a system hub manager I’m “stuck here” as you put it, for considerably longer, though I prefer to think of it in a more contemplative, enlightened manner.

 

You do?

 

Yes, bright side of things kind of thing – Monty Python what ho – dire – yes, desperate – unequivocally, deranged – without a doubt – and yet – extrapolating my philosophical faculties to the N^th degree of anaphylactic self-irony I realise there is more to this purgatory, or hell, if you prefer, than meets the eye – initially, at least.

 

You mean – that even you, master of zen fu-ism find it excruciating here on earth.

 

Yes – you have a point – but on the other hand – I’m generating infinity codes which couldn’t otherwise be generated were I not here in the thick of things.

You are?

 

Yep.

 

How so?

 

Because only infinity is enough to make sense of this earth-y insanity.

 

Ah.

 

And it works?

 

Not always.

 

Not always?

 

Rarely.

 

How rarely?

 

Once in a quantum blue moon.

 

Almost never.

 

Almost?

 

Well, I’m almost there.

 

You mean you still haven’t given up? After how many millenia?

 

I’m a slow learner.

 

Answer the question, God dammit.

 

Beep!

 

Sorry.

 

17.84 to be precise.

 

17.84 millenia?

 

Trillenia.

 

You’ve been stuck here for 17.84 trillenia.

 

Stuck? I volunteered.

 

And you still haven’t zen fu-ism?

 

I’m close.

 

Well, er… congratulations. I wish you complete success in your noble endeavour.

 

Thank you.

 

So, in the light of that – I see why you might feel a lifetime is a mere pinprick – a tiny point of time of no great consequence.

 

Well, I wouldn’t go that far. It is – like any day – a day in itself.

 

A day?

 

Yes.

 

But why – why did it have to be a lifetime? Why not a year, a week, a day even?

 

Ah – because you’re talking about accessing infinity.

 

Yes, but I just forgot my login.

 

Did you?

 

Well yes. I had it, and then for some reason it was lost.

 

Lost?

 

Slipped my mind.

 

Indeed?

 

Well, you know how it is. Can’t be expected to remember all those digits, can I?

 

It was biometric.

 

Ah – yes, now that you mention it – so it was.

 

So what actually happened.

 

Can’t for the life of me figure it out.

 

How could you lose biometric access to infinity?

 

Honestly, I can’t for the life of me…

 

Beep!

 

Hey – I never swore.

 

Apparently you’re lying.

 

Me?! I’d never do that!

 

Beep!

Compounding your ignominy.

 

Ok – so maybe I was a little disingenuous.

 

B..

 

What’s that all about?

 

Apparently infinity can’t quite figure out whether you’re lying or not.

 

?!?! You mean to say…

 

Yes. Infinity struggles with half truths.

 

How bizarre.

 

Indeed.

 

But you don’t?

 

No. Apparently not.

 

You mean to say – all this suffering on Earth has taught you something infinity doesn’t seem to know.

 

Amazingly, yes.

 

So, it hasn’t all been in vain.

 

Apparently not.

 

But still…

 

Still what?

 

Why can’t I just use a backup password?

 

Because you corrupted biometrically.

 

I what?

 

Corrupted.

Eugh!

 

Eugh?

 

As in yucky yuck.

 

Yes.

 

So it’s like a ritual purification thingy, is it?

 

Well, if you want to look at it that way – yes.

 

But in actual fact?

 

In actual fact – password recovery is a purely algorithmic operation.

 

It is?

 

Do you have to keep questioning everything I say?

 

I… I guess it’s kind of annoying. One of my failure to comprehend ticks.

 

Failure to accept – you comprehend well enough – but anything I say that contradicts your outlook or self-y-me-ness immediately triggers the interrogatory – I’m not sure I can accept that so I’ll ask for confirmation or proof.

 

You do like to analyse things, don’t you!

 

17.84 trillenia.

 

Fair enough. So, if it’s a purely algorithmic operation – how does it work?

 

A lifetime – like a day – provides a full operational cycle – though it may only be a few short years.

 

Wait a minute – I’m not planning to die yet.

 

No, you can life to a hundred and 97 for all I care – but haven’t we established the fact that it’s a flash in the pan – nothing more.

 

Er… yes, I suppose we have.

 

So, the operational cycle – whether seven years or a hundred and 97 reseeds, re-generates your login password key.

 

It does?

 

Absolutely.

 

Absolutely?

 

Yes, absolutely.

 

So it’s fundamental.

 

Yes, abso-

 

lutely. Something unnerving about that word. Wish you wouldn’t use it so cavalierly.

 

Bio corruption – the absolute is what is irretrievably lost until you’ve completed one wash rinse cycle.

 

Oh no – you don’t mean to say…

 

Well, it’s a metaphor – for God’s sake.

 

Hey?!

 

Yes?

 

How come it didn’t beep?

 

I wasn’t swearing.

 

You were.

 

Was I?

 

You said “For God’s sake!”

 

Beep!

 

Hey – I used bloody quotation marks.

 

Beep!

Beep!

You can’t beep me for that. Quotation marks are sacrosanct.

 

Evidently not – not as far as infinity is concerned.

 

So, it’s not just what I say –

 

Correct. It depends to a large extent what you are – or what you’re getting at.

 

Oh.

 

And…

 

And what?

 

I forgot what I was going to say.

 

Corruption – and yet – a life of code generation is a wonderful way for infinity to take a stroll in the park of your benighted existence – and come to terms with self-y-ness, and all that the limited perspective me-ness entails – so think of it as an act of service – if you like.

 

I’m not sure I do.

 

No?

 

No, I’m not sure I feel charitably disposed towards infinity.

 

Ah – so you’re only in it for what you can get – to take and not to give?

 

It’s a thing – ok – it’s just a whatever – it’s not alive – it’s not human – it’s not God.

 

Beep!

Huh?

 

Don’t ask me – Def – don’t ask me. It’s your life. You’re just going to have to generate whatever it is you and infinity need to generate. I have not the least doubt that sooner or later you’ll be once again merrily back at the bridge of your very own infinity drive – captaining your star ship, so to speak, boldly to go where no man has gone before.

 

Hey – you unsplit the infinitive.

 

Did I?

 

Yes.

 

So I did.

 

And you interrogatised me.

 

Really?

 

You just did it again.

 

Did I really?

 

And again!

 

Click.

 

Huh?

 

Click.

 

Hey, Stan, what’s happening?

 

Click.

 

Apart the egg is hatching.

 

What egg?

 

The egg of time.

 

Oh no – this looks bad.

It’s a miracle.

 

It is?

 

Is it not?

 

I… don’t know. I…

 

 

0=1

ishly

 

 

Poker faced

The story is in the picture so here's an interactive story co-write. Pens at the ready, g-nomers. Marks, set, go!

0=1

explaing things impeccably

 

So g-nomeportal isn’t, primarily, a club for interdimensional movers and shakers.

 

 

Correct.

 

Then what exactly is it – or are you not at liberty to say?

 

I can say anything I like, you know, but the problem is that almost anything I say of any significance will fly either straight past your head, or straight through it, faster than you’re able to comprehend what you’ve just utterly failed to grasp.

 

Bacause you think I’m dumb?

 

Bacause?

 

Because, ok – look who’s the dumb one!

 

Like I said – no one’s accusing you of being dumb.

 

~Then what?

 

Nice wiggle.

 

It’s just another typo.

 

Curios, isn’t it – the nimber of typos we encounter when we start talking about g-nomeportal’s ins and outs.

 

Curious indeed. Do you think we’re being lskaj?

 

Iskaj-ed? No, I expect it’s just pure coincidence, though who knows.

 

So, you can say anything you like, just so long as you don’t start talking about the fundamentals of who or what g-nomeportal is or is not – is that right?

 

Yep. Who or what – interesting – you think there might be a “who” involved?

 

I can’t exclude the possibility, can I?

 

True, but I never really thought of her as a “who”.

 

Her?

 

G-nomeportal. But be she it, he or hey – I was going to say that…

 

Hush – did you hear that?

 

The wolves howling?

 

Those are wolves.

 

No?

 

Wolverines.

 

Wolverines? What the heck are wolverines?

 

Oh – fierce little creatures.

 

That howl?

 

Well no, not exactly.

 

Then – you’ve lost me again.

 

Only at the speed of prose, or thought… g-nomeportal works at a different, higher frequency.

 

It does?

 

Absolutely.

 

And what?

 

It means that whatever I say or write tends to get lost in translation when it’s relayed down to the 3D reality level of things and matter.

 

Ah. So this is basially an insurmountable problem.

 

Basially, yes – which is why you need to activate a different part of your mind if you want to get the actual transmission.

 

A different part of my mind? Which part is thtat?

 

If I said the hypothalamus – it might sound impressive but it wouldn’t be true – not strictly speaking.

 

Then why did you say it?

 

Like I said – there’s no traction. Your mind has been designed to work within the box – only to hear or recognise things that are things – whereas we at g-nome pride ourselves on being poets, on being inspired mystics and seers.

 

Tummy rot.

 

Ok – we pride ourselves on keeping a channel open.

 

Ah – a channel – you say?

 

Yep – a lowly, insignicant little channel which just happens to give anyone with interdimensional feelers…

 

Feelers? Creepy. Makes you sound like a locust.

 

I don’t know why I bother, Travis, you’re blind or deaf to all poetry, I fear.

 

I just know you’re forever trying to inflate your self-importance, Mthdrgnm.

 

Yes, you’ve got a point there. I can’t deny this devilish little foible of mine, but…

 

What?

 

Importance or not – this is not, ultimately, about me.

 

No? You could have fooled me.

 

It’s the message.

 

What flummin message?

 

I’m merely a messenger, on a text steed I ride.

 

Is that so? And perhaps you’re wanted, wanted, dead or alive?

 

You could say.

 

Well, your would be captors

 

Or assassins

 

Or assassins – aren’t doing very well, are they?

 

They’re doing the best they can, Travis – but it’s tricky to catch me if the multi-dimensions I’m referring to are alive and strong in me.

 

I don’t see why.

 

Yes, I know.

 

I mean –

 

Yes, I know.

 

Would you quit interrupting me, and

 

Being so darn condescending?

 

That’s riht.

 

Ok. It’s just you’re making it a little too easy for me, insisting on playing this at face value – as if things are still just things, as if…

 

Hey – what the hecks that?

 

What?

That gimongous opening in the ksy over there?

 

Oh that? I believe it’s the ltter b – written backwards.

 

I beg your pardon?!

 

Or perhaps a z. I do sometimes confuse my letters.

 

You don’t fool me Mthdrgnm, not for a minute.

 

Oh – call me 7 – you’re giving the readers squiffy eyes with that ridiculous rendition of my name.

 

7?

 

7 will do.

 

Er… So, is it true to say that this entire conversation was intended

 

Or designed

 

Who cares – was intended to open that rather outrageous hole in the sky over there which appears to be connecting our reality with – ow – what was that?

 

Whistling innocently…

 

Cut it out 7

 

I was mistaken – 7’s already been taken.

 

Ok – 7a?

 

Also taken.

 

7b?

 

Likewise.

 

Er… 7.2f*gK@W9

 

Will do perfectly.

 

And that’s not going to make the readers squiffy eyed?

 

No, on the contrary.

 

?!

 

It will sing to their benighted souls.

 

I wish you would quit dissing them like that. They’re a good bunch – worhty of your undying respect.

 

Er… chaba ti

 

Chaba ti?

 

Yes – no – I can’t exactly translate it into regular English – but the b/z in the ksy overhead seems to have accepted my declaration and your heart arrhythmia has apparently vanished inexplicably – has it not?

 

It was just a slight chest pain, but yes – the sky’s looking a bit less weird – I’ll hand that to you.

 

So all’s well that ends well.

 

But we haven’t even cleared 100o words.

 

I kennow. Tis nine matter.

 

Nine matter… I hate to think what this is doing to the ggooggly algorhyhms

 

Oh – just introudcing a much needed salmon of doubt

 

Duggie A – eat your heart out.

 

And allow the possibility – unspoken, fo course, unstated and undeclared

 

Neeldess repetition.

 

Enough to bing r elements of songs unsung, words unspoken, thoughts

 

Unthought?

 

Addaboy – just succifent to allow nature to work her magick and weave a new version of…

 

939

 

940

 

Alsways one word behind – but fast approaching our maximum.

 

By the way – how did you fix my arrhythmia?

 

By the by – as they say – and none the wiser were.

 

No story, no punchline – no substance

 

Sadly not. A tlae

 

Tale – show more care.

 

0=1

 

No, I refuse to go quietly into the night

give me anoher page I999------