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All Tomorrow's Singularities
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Go lateral. Let go rational imagining. Dare to be stupid: that's where brilliance lies. Approaches through ignorance are highly underrated. Gibson *claims* to be a mostly subconscious writer. I believe him. Comes time to heave a good bowel movement, gotta back up to the throne. (Crap? Dis I invoke crap? "90% of everything is crap," as Sturgeon said. Need a big bowl and rubber gloves. Fish for pearls. But the initial, um, production is best done, um, by the seat of your pants.) Space must flow past the ports like wine from a pitcher |
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I prefer to have several at once. Array versus ray. Now: holistic. What did I mean? Your reference beam (extrapolation from the now) hits whatever lies in or beyond something like a Singularity, it should not push through and beyond so much as congeal the two in a holograph. Whatever the fuck that means. You're the one who claimed I had a point to make. See the kind of trouble-by-assumption extrapolative rigor can get you into? Space must flow past the ports like wine from a pitcher |
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I thought I was being stupid. Sry. I'll try harder in the next wave. I don't know, pre-conscious seems more accurate. Even before I think about it it's all spilling out on the pages and pages of internetz. Doesn't Tom Robbins write a line at a time? |
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Incorrect! I was asking what your point was, not claiming you had one. Indeed my perception of the absence of a point, on your part, which could have been simply mistaking a multitude of points, a spear forest, was what prompted me to ask. I'm going to continue to meditate upon all of these posts you've made. |
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Putting aside the fact that I have, truly, stopped beating my wife (again), asking me what my point is is not the same as asking me if I have a point to make. Of course, both questions defy precision since both expressions were long ago taken over for purposes of snark. "Doesn't Tom Robbins write a line at a time?" More. He brainjacks into an augmented octopus and inks directly onto several pages at once. More seriously: writing one line at a time is inevitable. Writing them in logical sequence is another. Space must flow past the ports like wine from a pitcher |
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So you seek to defuse my hyperbole with logic eh? It will never work. I suppose I was unclear. In the way of writing, my understanding was TR wrote a sentence, rewrote it until it was perfect, added a period and moved ahead. But with no consideration for what the book would be about, specifically, nor how all these sentences might become a story. He was mostly interested in making sure the sentences were "perfect" by themselves. Text is serial. Language is serial. Experience is not. That's the trouble with writing, inherently incompatible with reality. |
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Unmasked, Kenmeer slunk powerlessly away, his once prehensile logic trailing behind him disconsolately, reduced to last words he knew now he would never get in... Space must flow past the ports like wine from a pitcher |
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The lovely thing about imaginary realities is that virtually any scaffolding will provide adequate perspective of the reality provided by said scaffolding... Space must flow past the ports like wine from a pitcher |
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Experienced IS serial, but also extremely broad at some times, extremely narrow at others, and frequently riddled by eddies and counter-eddies.
Time be duh rivah. Space must flow past the ports like wine from a pitcher |
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That is lovely. All that scaffolding hanging out over....nothing. Be like constructing a space station by hand, minus the suits. I saw Laurie Anderson the other day, she told a story about flocks of birds, back a long time ago, when there was no ground to land on, so they just flew around, all the time. She said it created issues when people (birds) died as there was no where to put the bodies really. Well I thought the idea of a man or woman alone in a permanent sunset colored void constructing a scaffold for....something, was pretty at least. Very pretty indeed. |
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You're just saying this to be difficult aren't you? I'm wise to your schtick! It's interesting to me that we do experience "all of this" all at once all the time, but when we think back on it we construct in those discreet serial packets. This and this and then this and then we were at the party and then, later. But, really, was that how it was when it was, or is that just how we've made it now, afterwards. I wonder less about that than if it's our brains acquisition of language that causes the reordering. I was reading something today about deaf kids that never learned sign language, and thus invented their own, and then, lacking certain bits of language had issues with certain tests. Ideas of over, under, next to, in the same position as, didn't come across well, according to the article. Like that. |
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Well, it seems to me that such cajun indicates a close environment where pointing to, or associating object (toilet) with place (outhouse) would suffice, and thus not require abstract notions of geometry. Space must flow past the ports like wine from a pitcher |
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A fellow sufferer of aesthetic transfixation. Good stuff. Space must flow past the ports like wine from a pitcher |
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Eventually, I suppose, the dead bodies became land? Space must flow past the ports like wine from a pitcher |
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Fragments of a Contractor's Butt-crack. |
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I like that better than scaffolding in space. Never ending sheets of flapping plastic. Duct work laid bare. People constantly talking...somewhere. All these cans of Hamm's and stubbed out cigarettes. Piles of scrap lumber. Exposed wiring. Like that bit in Brazil, except you live in a never-ending maze of it. Like those Walter Jon Williams novels about the never-ending city, except it's a renovation without end instead of a city without end. Drilling in the middle of the night. Appliances replaced between when you leave in the morning and when you turn home at night. Yah....I like that one. |
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That's what I call Hole-o-graphic. Space must flow past the ports like wine from a pitcher |
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Even better would be to incorporate classic Dungeons and Dragons action. And endless series of 10x10 rooms and 10x10 stone corridors, constantly being renovated by various feuding groups of fantasy creatures utilizing mock-magical analogs of cyberpunk staple technologies.
Dungeons and Drywall. Caverns and Contractors. |
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You know. I think you're onto something. One thing most quest/shooter/POV games lack is any significant comedy. Space must flow past the ports like wine from a pitcher |
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T'would be an interesting exercise. The Dungeon Keeper games did a bit of that type of thing. They're not quest\shooter\POVs, but at least they tweaked the template. |
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www.williamgibsonboard.com
www.williamgibsonboard.com
NEUROMANCER & OTHER WORKS
All Tomorrow's Singularities
