Thursday, July 17, 2014

The Encroaching Singularity

The Encroaching Singularity



                   I was one of the first to suggest that the Linear Singularity was what was causing the acceleration of the cosmological constant. (There are no multiple singularities. "The self is ubiquitous.") As a child I had first suspected that field densities could account for the transitional phase states of sub atomic particles. Although the notion of black holes was already in vogue, the big bang was still outside of our viewing cone. I'd have these dreams of the snake swallowing it's tail. The universe is stretching uniformly like some tantric goddess. But, I postulated, "The universe is simultaneously expanding by collapsing into billions of multiple singularity. There is plenty of speculation as to the non intuitive geometry of spacetime beyond the event horizon of blackholes. But as the child I knew from the warping of spacetime between my ears that blackholes warp all spacetime outside as well as inside gravitational collapse. It's just that because our perception of time is metered to the speed of light that we think the world is expanding at an ever increasing accelerating rate.

                   Although I had finally wrote this down on the 17th of July, 2014, it wasn't until August of 2032 that the swells of the gravitational waves started producing iridescent rainbow hues in the lensing effects of light coming from the far field observations of distant ancient galaxies. Soon the local galactic neighborhood started to resonate in sympathy with this new order of light harmony. The initial response on earth was one of panic. "The sky is falling." The apocalypse were dancing. But as the dance of color in the night sky started to sparkle with a beauty that few could have imagined, our world was visited by many very different reactions. Many people took this inevitable ending of all life in this universe as proof of every nasty prejudice and some ridiculous god of vengeance.

                  But many of us rejoiced. This final coalescence of a killing linear singularity had expanded out of cannibal galaxies with their super massive black holes. It first started for me as a child. My first dreams of these celebrations was cause for me to start sharing my visions with my friends and loved ones. But of course everyone thought I was insane. Everyone accept my teacher of course. I had plenty of time to be prepared. I should get to have such a wonderful death. This is more than most people could stand from me and I was shunned. But I knew what was going to happen and I proved everyone wrong. My "True Hoax" came true with a vengeance. And I have always hated winning arguments. I would have much preferred to have been wrong, but beings as there is nothing to be done I just enjoyed the ride. And I made my killing writing about.

                  Although by the year 2027 I had already become a celebrity for my work in macro data, the subtleties of my work allowed for multiple interpretations of the systems analysis. No one could have guessed that someone as old as me could make a splash in the world of pop culture, but read em and weep. As my head continues to shrink, the world expands and collapses, I told you so. Isn't life beautiful?

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Novella Nouveau



                   I'd like to say thanks to a fellow time traveler who has the vision to daily check for the next installment on "The Bridge Between the Worlds."

                   The challenge remains where to begin. Beings as my best stories always seem to just get pulled out of my butt, (just like my readings in general,) I think I will start this one with the ending and work backwards, or forwards, I forget. (Will anyone ever be able to make sense of my backwards pseudo biographical blogs?)

                   Beings as the ending for most of us is almost always death, I'll start here. I am dying. That shivering orb of sparkling mercury which is the harlequin diamond lattice of my consciousness, is replaying my life all over again backwards. All the dreams, all the memories are but a blink of my already closed eyes. I am so happy. But this time, unlike dying during birth, this metallic bubble of my being shrinks instead of grows. And although this orb of consciousness no longer reaches the infinitude of all space in time, there is another infinitesimally small universe at the other end of the scale, waiting to digest the last remaining dust scrap of my existence. Push rewind. (So far nothing very original.)

                   From this point of nonexistence I turn to see a branching wing of all the possible alternative universes. This tree roots into fertile ground to carry the weight of all my choices as they merged to become this one and only eventual inevitability. Luck has been a frequent player in this most unlikely of lives I have been blessed to share. Madness yes, worthiness, I would hope so. Trying to describe death from the perspective of someone who is dying is more fun than I know how to write. I need to go back and explore some of those lost opportunities. Suffice it to say that I am more content than I may deserve. Blah Blah Blah. Where's the evil? Where's the drama? Where is the pathos? I must go back and find where everything went so horribly, horribly right. Ready? (But where to turn? So many unlikely insights that have led to this grateful death.)