Risto Juola
Ab absurdo, ad libertatem.
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The light is taking me to PIECES

Aug 21, 2009

First docent; then adept; then abstruse. Then?

How should I feel? If the standard attachments were mine I should feel wanton. If extancy has a thirst for blood, then how that superlatives might not? The axioms of violence need not filter all intuitions.

Once permeated, never again to be a hindrance. Once possible to see, then impossible to ignore.

Infinity, trapped in a chronometer. But: a device for compartmentalizing pride and prejudice as suggested by pragmatics? Or: once possible to see?

No matter. The universe ignores absurd superlative reductions, and our impositions on the hands of fate. Events and conditions will align.

From outside the chamber across the square might appear intrinsically paradoxical. At once permitting us to test new ideas, yet its window is one foot thick, thus indicating the field of separation between the chamber and everything else.

Is the accident upon me now? Perhaps, relative to experience. But the details of the accident are inimical to kingdom and primata, and saw fit to exist before infinity. What will happen is not new. Still, for me, the accident moves forward.

"He explains that the door has locked automatically while the generators warm up for this afternoon's experiment: removing the intrinsic field from concrete block fifteen." Human science -- the endeavour to understand eternal natural laws -- drives the experiment -- an endeavour to command modern unnatural activities. Yet, natural laws effected human science, and it is better to speak of natural feedback than unnatural activities. Who were the first fourteen, I wonder? No matter.

"I can hear the shields sliding back from the particle cannons." The chamber window is one foot thick, forsaking what is outside for what is inside. The superlative is alone, separated from other superlatives by opinion and intimation. Opinion and intimation redouble each other, and "[t]he air grows too warm, too quickly." The cannons will shoot particles, the particles will bring light, and the light will fill every corner of the chamber, casting away the axioms and the shadows. The light will change the field of vision, and the new field of vision will create new separations. New insights will shatter old insights, and old patterns will replace new patterns.

If the standard attachments were mine then the light would bring pain and knowledge. There is no pain, and "I feel fear for the last time."

The accident is upon me now, and the light -- "[t]he light is taking me to PIECES."

Part of the series: Cerularius