the softness of the world whew, something should spill this over-inflated production i can assume swallows the gullet into some incandescent lunge. yes, of course death is the boundary and the barrier, and what passes through carries information out and into the black hole where everything was once thought lost, now in this incandescent world, there is the potential for survival, something new literally within the galaxy, not under the sun. as if such might awak= en themselves, manifest to the world. their incandescent arches calling human worlds and phenomena to them, in a form of irretrievable and eternal data-banking. oh yes, and oh, just imagine the possibility of all of this, all human information, nay, the very soft and sumptuous knowledge we have accumulated beneath the incandescent sun which waits to survey our innermost thoughts. surely there are more throbs than gristle, more roughage than equipment designated the production of fences or other appurtenances designed to forestall incandescent death. the sun in its incandescent raiment harbors nothing, but exploration has indicated that its incandescent protrusions are heavily structured, and one might imagine them carrying some semblance of intelligence. but doesn't this depend on literal firewalls against such incandescent sparkings, set off in an illimitable universe. but these are not, are never, thoughts, how could thoughts exist in an incandescent state; surely i can argue that such surveyance readily accomplishes the fecund description of worlds, cosmos, everything that was and everything that will be. and so far as just around the corner, billowing knowledge, the hidden face of things which continues to reveal, against the softest of orderings of the real; when someone dies, whole worlds and skeins, membranes of poten- tial objects, histories, memories, disappear, this is an incontrovertible lack from which there is no return, no recompense. it is such softness you might imagine that constitutes thinking, the settling-in of forms and formlessness, the appearance of the infinite in the projection of the finite, the knowledge that something, anything, everything, is just around the corner. which is why the sun and its garnering is of such vital importance, and illuminaries that caress, that do not burn ... that caress, these softest of times ... _______________________________________________ NetBehaviour mailing list [email protected] http://www.netbehaviour.org/mailman/listinfo/netbehaviour
