Wednesday, June 27, 2012

A Timeline as viewed in 4-Dimensions ~ Part 1


Perhaps I should alert the innocent Timeline traveller upon these foreign facebook shores in advance?

Alert those new to these rarefied environs, of my many failings as a miserable miscreant, debauched violator and perverter of grammar & the English language, and in particular, my inexplicable and totally unjustifiable penchant for endless FB posts…

The result for the hapless onlooker who has just stumbled in from the cold would appear as just a random deluge of posts, as rain in a flood due to the sheer volume of my daily posting i.e seemingly without design. Surely this is chaos?

For me personally it’s called thinking out loud, but rest assured there is method to this madness just as there is madness in the method.

A harmonious balance of Yin and Yang, of creation and destruction.

Sometimes it can be advantageous to gain some height, some elevation from the terrain in order to get a meaningful perspective. In this instance the medium is Time – however distorted and we are dealing with a ‘Timeline’ so try reading down the line a few binary days or so in order to glean some additional perspective, some attitude, general tone and some bracing and entirely refreshing, negatively ionized air…

Another advantage in exploring the terrain more thoroughly is that it is only thus, that you may happen upon our exclusively chic, sumptuously catered “Jules Bar” which is only visible at night like some exotic mutant flora, appearing in a quaint cul de sac within the Latin Quarter, it’s soundtrack wafting serenely above the advertising signage and alleyway garbage bins, nestled in a cleft amongst the more orthodox posts further down the Timeline…

Getting inside the Bar can be tricky however as has been theorized by many of our best cosmologists.
“It is clear from the measurements of our instruments” reported one famous cosmologist in a recent interview in ‘It’s a Scientific World’ magazine.

“That the phenomenon known as ‘Jules Bar’ cannot be detected by current detection methods” he added quickly “Although we did pick up some anomalous readings in the general vicinity” and then added in an after thought “It seems obvious that Dark Energy must be involved in some peculiar way but currently we have no way of knowing this for certain, that is the problem”

This is no doubt due to the severe entry requirements, something which has been pointed out by most mathematicians to be caused by anomalous logic interfering with the laws of physics. 

These anomalies are painstakingly listed by a rhythmically flickering sign on the wall, in a broken font which never stops morphing..

And they are recited through a megaphone by a sadistic and cunningly dressed Bouncer at the door, who leers at one and all in a day-glo Monk’s habit from the nethermost regions of Hell, insisting with ribald humour, on asking the most salacious and confronting personal questions of those who seek entry.

But once inside…once the live chaos-theory jazz begins to unravel the coils of your psyche and you are sufficiently juiced in the overwhelming ambiance, the familiar ‘epiphany bell’ will begin to strike in mellow tones again and again like a town hall clock chiming and you will discover an organic unity inherent within all life …visible as a glowing sigil in the palm of your hand.

As you become joyfully lost in reverie within a relative ocean of Time, sight, sense and sound around you is played back in a loop of intimate textures, intentionally lighting up certain predesignated sectors of the brain.

And so you begin your journey of discovery, probing the coloured darkness, through a frightened flock of semi-startled legs, tracing the dotted line to an exploration of space along an axis, along an endless series of corridors you can’t remember the way back from…illuminated by hauntingly beautiful symbols which are only vaguely reminiscent.

You find yourself off a hallway, in a corridor of infinitely regressing fractal rooms of an organic nature, where various types of DNA are inscribed on pulsating walls that glow internally with an eerie electric blue.

Whilst simultaneously, as a hand-painted vine motif begins to emerge from the walls, a successful meme emerges from the background of chanting and hum.

A bell intones indicating a hive-mind shift, a warm pastel archway appears from a recess and begins to pulse…beyond you can faintly make out a garden of delights, enthusiastic laughter pours out like soap bubbles... and you suddenly find yourself encouraged to explore your own evolution in harmony with the vibrations of the Aether and the cosmological constant.

Eventually, if you stay long enough, the Band in a brief moment of banality and bonhomme camaraderie, will make you ‘brothers for life’ in a solemn beer drenched ceremony ending with a refrain from ‘Auld lang syne’, and, in an equally rare moment of coherence, and sheer relevance,  they will lay down a searing musical homage to organic design, as Alphonsus the Bartender pours another drink in honour of the Architect in residence.

Meanwhile, in the cloistered foyer which has been decorated with mandalas from Tibetan murals and vivid Islamic curtains, Frank Lloyd Wright smiles faintly and takes a bow with a flourish of his cape, amidst a light shower of polite applause, his visage rippling through ribbons of multi-coloured smoke in holographic resplendence.

He remains Architect extraordinaire and just another digital patron at the enigmatic “Jules Bar” , hidden away from prying eyes in an alleyway, within the Latin quarter of a certain Timeline…
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Saturday, June 23, 2012

A Timeline as viewed in 4-Dimensions ~ Part 2 or, When the Lights Go Out at the Jules Bar



I may just have to place the “Jules Bar” onto Automatic Pilot for a while.

This would be for an amorphous amount of Time somewhere between a micro-second and approaching infinity.

I need to remember how to pick up a book and read.

Fear not, it will never be for infinity because that would be more than a while…

Automatic Pilot for the “Jules Bar” is a state not dissimilar to Limbo, but with the addition of some Dark Energy.

Not exactly Purgatory, more like an episode of the Twilight Zone :

You Are Going On A Journey…

A Voyage into Inner Space, on a Ship of indeterminate age and unspecified origins with a destination still waiting to be created.

You are traversing uncharted seas and there is no-one to take the helm.

A Flying Dutchman, a ghost ship sailing it’s storm-tossed banner under a grinning Godless Moon.

Where damaged Rats come out from the dark spaces of their loneliness to scurry along the endless corridors, darting hither and thither searching for morsels of human emotion.

Where fragments of faulty code flicker repetitively in the moonlight , whispering  random snatches of conversation, loops that run ceaselessly through the ancient oaken beams like synthetic Sirens.

There is a haunted, almost naked Ballet which is performed in silence each evening on the second floor to a grand, empty old theater with salt damaged stalls, and flickering candles for light.

Meanwhile inside the Captain’s cabin a cold tune festers in the damp blue half-light, wafting over books, scrolls and charts which are piled knee high upon the floor.

A dust enshrouded vivisection table protrudes from the darkness displaying  an ancient Astrolabe draped in cobwebs, and a Newtonian reflecting telescope missing a lens.

They claim the chilled air for Science, like mute sentinels among the test-tubes and lab equipment, patiently awaiting their Master’s return.

Whilst on deck, whipped by furious gales from a contemptuous Moon, giggling lunatics scramble along the sails towards the Eagles nest perched at the top, howling their madness and tears into the merciless lashing sea-spray.

Insidiously, invisibly and silently, the contagion of a virtual spice drug has leached its way on board the Ship via a smuggled brass container engraved with the illegible markings of an unknown language.

In the virtual realm it is ultimately totally obsessive and thoroughly addictive.

This Ship is rapidly becoming your private Hell, as your mind relinquishes its grasp on Reason being no longer able to distinguish between what is real and what is not.

You glide in and out of abandoned cabins looking for meaning.

You are drifting...drifting...a frightened, flickering shadow in the half-light traces its way like a blind man across the cramped, hunched corners of your mind as your eyes slip into the fissures and ceiling cracks of a Timeline without end.

A Timeline camouflaged as a vast sailing ship of old, one which appears to create each corridor and room on the Ship anew and on 'the fly' as one enters.

Echoing corridors of Hospital-green suddenly burst from the wall before you like a subway tunnel.

A host of dead echoes claw at your ears like persistent crows, producing all manner of surgical smiles, confused sighs and hysterical cries as you drift by on the softly ebbing, geometric seas of checkerboard linoleum.

You catch your profile in a pool of oily water...a growth of cables and multi-colored wires have burst silently from the region around the input socket of your skull like spikes from a tropical flower, trembling as they eagerly await any new connections.

In the delirium of days that pass by unrecognizably save for a softly glowing Sun icon that rises each morning from a giant mirror in the Captain's cabin, you continue a frantic search for the mythical 'lost' screen which, according to a service droid is believed to hold the only exit from this virtual anomaly.

By night you trudge wearily through the echoing corridors, sifting through the usual cacophony of sounds and disconnected characters, listening breathlessly for any fresh new sounds which might reveal the hiding place of the ancient operating system and its wondrous clockwork wizardry, rumoured to lie somewhere beyond the incessantly chattering walls of the Ship.

Your only safe harbor has now caged you like a restless animal, trapped on a floating prison of random and seemingly infinite doorways with meaningless signs of archaic script, and inhabited by Non-Playing Characters in a never-ending search for their Egos whilst disconnected Avatars stumble about aimlessly in the flickering fluorescence having long since gone insane.

You are going on an endless Journey…

And these are just some of your companions as you travel ever onward through Inner Space, suspended in time by an alien virtual-molecule inside of a faulty circuit, trapped forever, in the multi-dimensional fabric of the Twilight Zone.
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Thursday, June 21, 2012

A Timeline as viewed in 4-Dimensions ~ Part 3




As I have received an inordinate amount of inquiry re: backstage passes for the “Jules Bar” and similar requests, I felt a follow-up explanatory article presented with Visual-aids by Alphonsus Greer, our enigmatic Bartender and Man for all Seasons, our Man of the Hour, would be appropriate, but alas he is momentarily otherwise preoccupied …

 A remarkable fellow Alphonsus…

In another life he was an infamous Xeno-psychologist, who became unfortunately too involved  ( here…try some of these Off-World delicacies, they were grown in vats in a low-Earth orbit) yes, too caught up in the darker, murkier side of some of his patients lives.


As a result, he changed career mid-flight and became a Virtual web detective and began to build up a large network of contacts. However lady luck was not with him, and he was captured in the act as it were, inside one of the largest corporations known, attempting to extricate some precious algorithms from their blissfully ignorant wetware container i.e their head of Foreign Relations.

The giant entertainment leviathan ‘Dream Machine’, remains the original and still the best Internet Dream retailer on the planet. He would have remained imprisoned by the corporation like a fly in amber, filed away in some vast cool database of dreams and abandoned for ‘Virtual’ centuries were it not for some small assistance I was able to offer him at that time.

As a result, Alphonsus feels he owes me this eternal debt…and so he works here at the ‘Jules Bar’ as our unique and irreplaceable Bartender…sigh…

Despite having fired him countless times, he insists on reminding me with his suspiciously inscrutable accent (some sort of hybrid of South African, New Zealand & Swiss) and equally inscrutable logic  that as he owes me a lifelong obligation; he therefore cannot be fired…

For those of you who are having difficulty finding the correct alleyway to ultimately gain entry to the ‘Jules Bar’…a clue…surfing in the right coordinates of space & time whilst wearing a particular rune stone and holding a Siamese cat in the midst of a fairly concentrated meteor shower, on a moonless night, after having ingested large doses of amphetamine washed down with a third of Vodka…has been reputed to be quite efficacious.

Also get Karl heinz Stockhausen playing somewhere at enormous bone atomising decibel levels…
If all else fails you could try a ‘Kurlian Wand’ and see if you can at least get an outline of the building and the alleyway…

 I hear those of a more empirical persuasion, shouting; ‘What about the Science?’

I would simply remind them of the prolific examples which History offers of where a particular process or phenomenon was not initially understood, and was viewed as something else entirely. A simple example would be the Ptolemaic system, which was being physically built in models until after Copernicus.

Although contemporary investigators do not, as of this report, fully comprehend the phenomena known as ‘Jules bar’, we know at least that it exists and apparently for it’s patrons this is sufficient.

As one regular was overheard saying : ” look it’s the same for everything in our new world, you have a black box which does this or that, you don’t know how it works or why, you just know that if you fiddle with the right dials and toggles that it works!”

 In much the same way we don’t understand Quantum Mechanics, no-one does…Quantum Mechanics appropriately implies that the Universe is a giant computer simulation and so far this is sufficient i.e we simply know that it exists and that it works, i.e that our computations hold up.

The secret behind the persistence of vision in this instance as it applies to the ‘Jules Bar’, has thus far been attributed to ‘Dark Energy’ however some recent papers published in ‘It’s A Scientific World’ magazine claim that this extraordinary manifestation can in fact more correctly be attributed to the Quantum Zeno effect, named after that classic gem of ancient Greek philosophy : Zeno’s Paradoxes, the article goes on to describe a situation in which an unstable particle, (for the sake of argument let’s say from the Bar-counter) if observed continuously, will never decay…hence the multiplicity of Atomic cameras throught the atrium and embedded in the various level ceilings at the ‘Jules Bar’.


“One can literally freeze the evolution of a System by measuring it frequently enough in it’s initial state.” gushed an excited quantum Physicist in a recent interview.

Although we don’t as yet understand the language of the new arcane 4D Sciences…apparently the Universe does…and sometimes…just sometimes, it replies in a most spectacular way…i.e the “Jules Bar”.

Unfortunately the Quantum Zeno effect has received it’s fair share of negative, unfavourable press of late due to the persistent, nagging rumours about a basement laboratory beneath ‘Jules Bar’ in which some spurious experiments are meant to have been carried out regarding the QZE and a hypothetical Immortality drive…the rumours go on about there having been problems with the ‘Containment Field’.

The music and decibel levels are ultimately not of major significance…you could alternatively try pan-pipes recorded in Machu Picchu or even a Zen Flute inside Cheop’s Pyramid.
More important is Timing.

Timing is really of the utmost importance because you need to consider a multiple simultaneous attack on your senses in order to create the correct frequencies and sub-harmonics necessary to be able to fluidly and with aplomb get past The Doorman from Hell and enter the ‘Jules Bar’…and naturally this is still only a part of the answer.

I’m afraid I may have said too much…Some of my more elusive, private guests will not be happy…
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