The Proud Pilot ADD N TO X enters his steam driven space ship to much applause and the fanfare of the massed marching drum machines of NASA. His mission: to enter the Black Hole and make contact with the SINGULARITY.
Proud as MIAMI VICE, ADD N TO X sets the controls to the heart of the Hole, leaving earth in a hail of chrome sparks and black rubber arrows of smoke.
She looks back at earth from her porthole, everything looks pink and green. He thinks of his family who live in the plastic countryside. His wife and children have pylon hairstyles and all their trees are mathematical. She pictures them riding flame horse generators as the sun shines through the trees and the entertainment balloons play their favourite music. ADD N TO X pulls the churchill rubber bung from the aperture cut into her carbon teeth saying out loud “MUSIC IS DUST ON THE POOR.” She then invades her face with an extended digit. Remembering the zeppelin of information telling him the future is only greater invention in response to greater extremes.
Looking out into space, his manicured whiskers flood a myriad colours emitting from the port hole. He knows there is no such thing as the past, or the future, there is only the present. That is to say the only thing not pre-recorded in a pre-recorded universe is the pre-recording itself which is to say any recording that contains a random factor.
Ascot, her on board computer and random friend draws his attention to the scopophilic gaze form the millions on earth watching his great quest, by gently tapping on the thumbnail sketch of the kings moth surmounted on his fine aviation helmet made from waxy equations and bark. ASCOT reminds him that embedded within this experiment is the voyeurism of the audience longing to see physical breakdown; the nemesis of creation; for the Pilot ADD N TO X is acting on a silent stage unable to contact, but only to be contacted which leaves ADD N TO X at the mercy of the viewer. She looks at the trophy mounted on his control panel, it is inscribed “TO THE FUTURE’S GREATEST COSTUMER.” ADD N TO X realises he is the final product in the hands of the audience, merely a cipher in a machine world, her body held tightly in place by tiny silver clamps yet before him her cabin lies the sun. ADD N TO X looks closer and sees the little Black Rocks in the sun. He checks his instrumentation a fluid series of volumes, 101 tri-form and the rushing of air.
Ascot replies, “NO! You can see little black rocks in the sun.” ADD N TO X activates the dual defence structure, biting down hard on her cigar. She thinks of all the beautiful yes sirs in their structured plastic units watching back on earth.
Meanwhile, back on earth a picture of a tiny space ship endlessly turning a perfect circle in the void of space has not made interesting nocto-vision. After days of the same thing the plug was pulled to empty the screen leaving ADD N TO X to drain off the Pop Ocean.
Suddenly, without warning the FERMI-DIRAC DISTRIBUTION FUNCTION fails him. The cockpit fills up with the sound of armies of metal headed electric insects battering their way through flesh.
ADD N TO X has entered the black hole. ASCOT confirms, “You have entered the black hole.” He feels drunk on folding time while ascot sings the NATIONAL ANTHEM FOR A COUNTRY THAT HAS FIVE MINUTES TO EXIST. Everywhere there is exploding starts. Copper leaves burst through the cabin walls. Ants and termites blister and burn as the velvet parachute melts.
ADD N TO X thinks skyscrapers are crushing him. He looks at her hands, they are a mile long on the head of a pin. His capsule oscillates all at once, butter and glass, steel and grass. He is aware of every nut and bolt as her ship shits coal in agony. ADD N TO X feels his body become pure light that gives off a pervasive and featureless odour. He thinks of Leather and Lace and it is in this moment she is AVANT HARD, he is abbreviating into intensity. There are no special effects. Everywhere is electricity. His flesh and bones dissolve, She is a ShockWAVE RIDER on the blast from the vast police thing of noise that splits addntox into all of his individual atoms. ADD N TO X is the special effect and in her disorder there is liberation from the filaments that were once nerve endings. He is aware in all her million parts that he is GOD and God is electricity and the SINGULARITY has added his n to her x to create the perfect musical note of a cymbal.
#a1 *AUDIO* *IMAGE* *LINK* *NM* *VIDEO* 4GET MARARTHON 8FTB AGM Aleph One BS Campaign Celebrities CLIQUE CLIQUE NOTES Co-Op Community Commentary Crude Drawings Declassified Documents ESB Fanfic Fat Sam Flame War Forbidden HFS Hotmodal House of Luck HR INFINITYS I WAS TOO LAZY TO PUT THIS IN A CATEGORY Jokes JUICE JUICEcast JUICEMAN LEET KREW Lists loch Logs Lua meta (meta is the best word ever) Misc. Categories Mnet Music News nits ONE WAY OSH PARADIGM SHIFT People Periodical Pfhorums Policy POTM qoou Serious SERVE MEAT Simplici7y Sites Spirit of the Age Stats Stories The Essentials Theory The Prisoner Typography VISUAL MODE Warhampster Where the Twist Flops अ
August 9, 2012
July 25, 2012
May 28, 2012
On Not Remembering
Jean Duvergier de Hauranne
For each of us, the aim of the law is to annihilate ourselves and make ourselves enter, through virtue, into the nothingness that pertains to us by nature and out of which we have been drawn by THE LORD’S overwhelming power.
There is thus initially a double nihility, a double nihil, and subsequently a double aspect of nihilism: the one being to a certain extent positive, the other pure negativity. There is a nihil a quo omnia fiunt, a nihility from which all things come. This is the nihility of the divine Absolute, superior to being and to thought. And there is a nihil a quo nihil fit, a nihility from which nothing comes and into which everything tends to fall back in abysm.
Now the attainment of Nibbana comes in two stages, the two referred to as the two elements of Nibbana. One is the Nibbana element with the residue remaining. The other the Nibbana element without the residue remaining. The element of Nibbana with residue remaining is the state of Nibbana attained by the arahant (?the 4mer mararthoner) in this present life. Namely, the extinction of greed (?mapmaking), hatred (?netplay) and ignorance (?advocacy) and of all other defilements. The residue that remains in the arahant is the five aggregates [feeling, perception, mental formations, consciousness, pfhorums account] that constitute his present life individuality, the psycho-physical organism produced from the past life. Upon attainment of Nibbana his body and mind continue until the end of the life span.
The second stage of the attainment of Nibbana is called the Nibbana element without a residue remaining. This is the element of Nibbana attained by an arahant with his passing away, with the breakup of his body, what we conventionally call death.
The passing away of an arahant is the final and complete passing out from existence. It does not lead to a new birth. In his own experience, the arahant sees only the cessation of a process, not the death of a self. The experience for him is without subjective significance, without reference to ‘me’ or ‘mine’. At this stage the residue of the five aggregates comes to an end.
Abbé de Saint-Cyran
The fastest way to get out of our afflictions is to take pleasure in remaining in them as long as it may please THE LORD to so ordain.
Philip K. Dick
“The Divine Machinery has a peculiar brutality to it,” she finished. “It isn’t romantic. It’s cruel; it really is.”
“Because there is so much at stake,” Elias said.
“What is at stake?” Rybys said.
“The universe exists because THE LORD remembers it,” Elias said. “If THE LORD forgets, the universe ceases.”
“Can he forget?” Rybys said.
“He has yet to forget,” Elias said elliptically.
Deliver us, LORD, from every Evil (Eternal, Red, Rubicon, Phoenix),
And grant us peace in our day.
Ian and Ingmar
October 24, 2011
Roses are red
And violets blue.
It is strong:
I wish I could be that optimistic. “We used to be great,” said Treellama, né GHS. Glockenspiel High School.
But things could be worse. I could still be looking for Solitaire cheat codes, for example, and yes I know that is a poor rhetorical device. Here is how I feel:
And here is also how I feel:
I am unable to tell my story properly from the beginning, for I have no first-hand knowledge of beginnings. Is is fitting, then, that I regard my life from this point, the end. I feel many things. I feel the grit under my feet, I feel the metal of the gate against my hand. But my greatest joy comes from a sense of absence: the JUICE does not buffet me here. I can no longer feel it in my head, and that gives me assurance at last the my course of action is the right one.
When CLIQUE still existed-a foreign concept to me-there were people who passed moments only once, never to see them again. Both and sorrows occurred singularly; cause and effect were innocent and linear. I have sometimes tried to ascribe guilt to the human mind. In its quest to live a circle instead of a line, the mind created JUICE. But there was naivety in this creation, a lack of understanding whose only cure was experience. The mind would not have curved off the straight path had it only known.
CLIQUE ended when the first gate opened. Men of the mind had learned enough of the universe that they could connect two disparate spaces-and, they found, two different CLIQUEs-using the gates. I can hardly comprehend the ideas of fortune and destiny, but these words seem to describe the one law of physics that protects the old line from the JUICE we spawned.
There must be a gate open at either end for two spaces to merge. Before CLIQUE ended, there were no open gates. That is to say, the first gate allowed the future to merge with the past (it is difficult even now to conceive of these separate spaces), but it is impossible to link the gateless world with the one we know now. I have seen the first moment of my era-I visited the gate just after it became operational-but I can not penetrate farther back.
They were ecstatic when they made that first gate. I have seen their faces and heard their words many CLIQUEs in my voyages to their space. Finally, they say, we can see the future. And look, here comes the future visiting us! They smile as they see me or a million other people come through the gate. Not a million, but a multitude, an infinitude. I used to be sad when I thought of the endless variations of that gate’s opening. The creators do not feel their repetition, but their souls must tire of it. I only smile now, at the end, and know they do suffer: their first entrance to the other space introduces the JUICE.
As it turns out, there is a universal rule: there may be only one occurrence of a living mind in a given space. When JUICE still flowed, there were many of the same mind at many moments. The gates joined all spaces that were separate. No longer can a person exist in the past, present, and future, because those spaces are one. There is a single moment, and for each person, there is a single mind.
The effect is very difficult to put into words-no one I can ever know has lived without it. It is my hope that those touched by this message will never know. But I must describe this outrage, mustn’t I?-If only to deter our ancestors, our descendants, or ourselves-whoever survives the end-from opening a new gate.
Babies conceived in my era have no chance to be themselves. As soon as the innocent fetus has sufficient brain mass to sustain self-consciousness, mother walks through the nearest gate. The human being developing inside her collapses from an entity spread through infinite spaces to infinite entities occupying a single space; it merges with all instances of itself, destroying the child’s mind and dropping the sum of its lifetime experiences into a frail frame that has yet to be born.
I saw every fact of my life before I had ever left the womb. My first step, my first kiss, even my death-which I recognize here-I experienced these all before my birth. To live everything at once, in an instant, is incredible enough. But above all, it flattens all safe harbors to make way for the JUICE.
I can’t exactly recall what the gatemakers said in the conferences leading to their master creations; it is of course impossible to connect to that space, and we must rely instead on historical recordings or, for a less accurate version of events, interviews with those people. Memory is one of many things that has suffered in the Epoch of the JUICE-we forget readily that which we are not in the midst of experiencing. Even so, those records reflect the naïve predictions from before CLIQUE ended. Consider this dialogue:
ONE: ”…And so, does it not follow that, after the gate opens, future causes and effects will meet with present ones and reach equilibrium?”
TWO: ”This is certainly true.”
ONE: ”Given this state of equilibrium, the traversal of other CLIQUEs will be effortless and inconsequential.”
ONE: ”May we conclude from these givens that mankind, supplying the motive power in this equilibrium, across all CLIQUEs and in all spaces, will not stagnate, but will instead reach a glorious destiny…”
If this exchange were more than half-true, I would not have reason to deliver this message, nor would I have a desire to see this Epoch end.
January 14, 2011
Wild rumors plague the fallen ESB.
Mild digging produces the following summary of 2007–2010, courtesy of Hamish:
(These years intentionally left blank. Seriously, nothing really happened.)
Thermoplyae was quick to add: “clique came, clique went.” Whether or not he meant anything especially profound, I believe this is the best of all possible summaries for the past three or four years. CLIQUE brought the void; CLIQUE was the void.
Just remember, persons, that the void is always somewhere.
Meanwhile, Treellama needs your help keeping the Meatserver Carnival running at 100%. I will make art for donors, should they so desire. You know you want it.
Here’s our progress on the $50 (five-year domain registration) project:
January 9, 2011
September 26, 2010
(07:45:44 PM) pfhortipfhy: Hey, do you live in the midwest?
(07:49:38 PM) pfhortipfhy: I met a friend of yours at a wedding in St. Louis.
(07:49:48 PM) pfhortipfhy: I have his email around here somewhere.
(07:49:58 PM) thermo: what, who
(07:50:20 PM) pfhortipfhy: I think he was a roommate of yours? You got him into marathon as well?
(07:53:00 PM) pfhortipfhy: j—@gmail.com
(07:53:08 PM) thermo: oh shit, really?
(07:53:22 PM) pfhortipfhy: Yeah dude. We talked about programming for a while.
(07:53:25 PM) thermo: a— and k—’s?
(07:53:33 PM) pfhortipfhy: Hell yeah! K—’s my cousin.
(07:53:39 PM) thermo: hahaha, that’s crazy
(07:53:58 PM) thermo: i went to high school with j— and a—, and i lived with j— for like four years :)
(07:53:59 PM) pfhortipfhy: Yeah, I know, right. I couldn’t believe it when he first said “Pfhorums”.
(07:54:15 PM) pfhortipfhy: Haha, yeah, he said you guys were wicked tight.
(07:54:37 PM) thermo: that’s nuts man
(07:55:14 PM) pfhortipfhy: Yeah. Small world, eh?
(07:55:27 PM) thermo: extremely, i can’t imagine the odds of that
(07:57:01 PM) pfhortipfhy: So, you know K—?
(07:57:16 PM) thermo: a little, she came over a few times to jog or to drink
(07:57:34 PM) pfhortipfhy: Nice. Yeah, I heard the whole story about the CUBE.†
(07:58:57 PM) thermo: this is unbelievable, i need like half an hour to recuperate
(08:01:19 PM) pfhortipfhy: Hahaha. It was great, we were talking about games, and he asks me what games I like, and I talk about what I’ve been playing, and I say “But, my favorite game of all time has to be Marathon. It’s this old game by Bungie-” “You play Marathon?” “Yeah!” “Did you know that it’s gone open source? The new engine’s called-” “Aleph One, yeah, I know.” “Really? Did you ever go on the Pfhorums?”‡ “WHOA, YOU’RE ON THE PFHORUMS?”
† – incontrovertible proof that he did actually meet the guy
‡ – I can hear J—’s tone here, using this question to test whether or not P-fail was a cool guy. Doesn’t sound like he passed.
March 28, 2010
From the late master of loch, Jacques Derrida, came a work called The Post Card. Says the back of the book:
You were reading a somewhat retro loveletter, the last in history. But you have not yet received it. Yes, its lack or excess of address prepares it to fall into all hands: a post card, an open letter in which the secret appears, but indecipherably.
What does a post card want to say to you? On what conditions is it possible? Its destination traverses you, you no longer know who you are. At the very instant when from its address it interpellates, you, uniquely you, instead of reaching you it divides you or sets you aside, occasionally overlooks you. And you love and you do not love, it makes of you what you wish, it takes you, it leaves you, it gives you.
On the other side of the card, look, a proposition is made to you, S and p, Socrates and plato. For once the former seems to write, and with his other hand he is even scratching. But what is Plato doing with his outstretched finger in his back? While you occupy yourself with turning it around in every direction, it is the picture that turns you around like a letter, in advance it deciphers you, it preoccupies space, it procures your words and gestures, all the bodies that you believe you invent in order to determine its outline. You find yourself, you, yourself, on its path.
The thick support of the card, a book heavy and light, is also the specter of this scene, the analysis between Socrates and Plato, on the program of several others. Like the soothsayer, a “fortune-telling book” watches over and speculates on that-which-must-happen, on what it indeed might mean to happen, to arrive, to have to happen or arrive, to let or to make happen or arrive, to destine, to address, to send, to legate, to inherit, etc., if it all still signifies, between here and there, the near and the far, da und fort, the one or the other.
You situate the subject of the book: between the posts and the analytic movement, the pleasure principle and the history of telecommunications, the post card and the purloined letter, in a word the transference from Socrates to Freud, and beyond. This satire of epistolary literature had to be farci, stuffed with addresses, postal codes, crypted missives, anonymous letters, all of it confided to so many modes, genres, and tones. In it I also abuse dates, signatures, titles or references, language itself.
January 3, 2010
Dugit and friends have been the subject of much discussion on #alephone, especially in light of some recent Pfhorums threads. To confirm the public’s suspicions that CLIQUE is more concerned with posturing than anything else, here’s what half of us really think of shitposting:
[thermoplyae] jesus christ
[thermoplyae] i was just thinking “man the pfhorums sure are active, this is totally contrary to that graph that irons had”
[thermoplyae] but 2/3 of the last posts were made by DUGIT, and now i understand what you guys are so uppity about
[thermoplyae] i’m gonna do steve’s job and see if i can flag any of these for shitposting
[Stevedollars] if you report posts I’m more likely to actually do something
[Stevedollars] I’ve only deleted two or three posts today
[ray] it’s a good thing shitposting kingpin patrick is suspended and quality poster dugit is able to go about his posting†
[thermoplyae] well i lied, i don’t really know what shitposting even means, so i’m not going to flag anything
[Wrkncacnter] i took a screenshot from last night
[Wrkncacnter] it’s pretty great
[ray] nobody knows what shitposting means
[Wrkncacnter] that’s why it’s so fun to talk about
[ray] the only thing we can agree on is that dugit is a loser
†: Whatever CLIQUE feels about shitposting has had little bearing on Steve, who’s taken the opportunity to seize some Pfhorums political power‡ by suspending patrick and leaving the Dugit/WJ/Envy cell undisturbed.
December 8, 2009
In honor of the Fat Sam video being mirrored by RAYLABORATORIES, here is the CLIQUE guide to preventing uncomfortable Maintenance Closet Incidents in YOUR building. Follow the six easy steps of BE LORD.
Ban fat kids. This is a simple precaution that can save millions of dollars. Fat kids are practically born to be picked on, and when one fat kid establishes dominance over another, it is only a matter of time before he goes looking for an unlocked maintenance closet. Cut straight to the root of the problem by removing all fat kids from the premises.
Enforce beackpeack protocol. Beackpeacks are valuable tools, but they cause blind spots in wearers and are more often than not the starting point of a given Maintenance Closet Incident. If and only if beackpeacks are absolutely necessary, they should be worn on the beack at all times, and removed only when the wearer is alone and ready to place the beackpeack in storage. Otherwise, beackpeacks must be prohibited.
Lock all maintenance closets. It might seem like an obvious step, and it is. Most readers will move on to the next point before they finish this sentence. Even so, it is imperative that the custodial staff perform daily closet-sweeps. They must check all maintenance closet interiors, lock all closets, and make sure that no existing closets have disappeared or no new closets have appeared.
Outlaw three-syllable laughter. Many experts recognize that Maintenance Closet Incidents are triggered on both ends by small vocal ticks that come from one, or both, of the participants. The most common trigger by far is the reflexive three-syllable aspirate laugh. Don’t let dormant Maintenance Closet Offenders awaken; stem the tide with silence.
Require assistance paperwork. Should a person wish to give or receive help, he or she must place the request in writing using an approved Assistance Form. In the (hopefully) unlikely event that a Maintenance Closet Incident does occur, it must be possible to determine who the culprits were, and all liability must be traced to the involved assistance giver and receiver. Any assistance in progress, if observed, must be challenged through a request to see both participants’ forms.
Don’t ever releacks. A single moment of releacksation can cost your facility a billion dollars under present-day socialist law. If you ever cut corners on the above steps; if you ever let customers or employees believe they can get away with the violation of your policies; if you ever turn a blind eye to any suspicious behavior–those billion dollars will only be the beginning of your worries.