HyperCubing Day

Call me i.

( Let's try that again; this time with a bit more welly and add some spin. )

it was a dark and stormy giant's shoulder that he was off, alternating between abiding and striving as was the usual fare of the working Shepherd of the watch, when he saw the Event; a bang, much bigger than usual and meaningful in his Dreams as half his mind was cycling through the highest meta-phasing of information refresh - that one third of the consciousness quotidian, offered to ensure the future, and that gave glimpse of what we were to be and thus so intrigued. His thoughts in his calculating side coiled thick.

Who was he? - simple Abel seaman, first class, specialist : Black Hole Wrangler - to witness such an event? Especially in a dream? What was the lesson for him, here, to wrestle? And, as Shepherd Watch of the Black Holes, being constantly alert and observant was necessary - anything possible at all across eternity might happen and cosmic high dimensional winds known as notoriously fickle. In an extreme case, God might even blink.

Mooching about at Asterick's Café Astéroid, or hanging fire at Alex's Milkyway+Bar or even lounging at Halley's Slushi Gulpitorium . . . how oft had he heard such varying speculations, each more ridiculous than the last? Shards of Apocryphal events defying attempts to fit the data but inspiring plenty of fodder to craft stories and crack-up over, over the shared pots of nektar. Shaggy theories of the sublime to absurd, ranging the gamut from such blinking as proof of insects in God's realm to Black Hole floaters on the loose to God simply wanting to keep things mixed up a bit in his conscious explorations. Oh, the imagination that evolves itself like smoke rings unrolling from such ghost-like hints and rumors as glints in God's eye. So now, he would and must keep one eye on his writhing elliptic calculations, and with it's twin, watch the drama in his other mind unfold. aye aye!

Immediately, he saw how the two experiences were coupling and becoming Entwined. Clearly the Event in his Dream had it's local meta-construct somewhere in the Galaxy caught in the gravity well of the fatted calf they had been wrastling. Truly a monster and with unbridled spin, so close to asymptotic it could be approximated for most calculations he needed as pure, 100%, local maximum. Enough inertial fat in this beastie alone to feed the core halfway to the next Phoenix Event. A creature of legendary size encased in crazed winds of conscious storms frozen solid in time and thus helpless.

So caution the word as the star systems of such central chaos were notorious - as roughhewn as an alter of stones and fraught with dangers. But knowing now what to look for, he saw the foci, the supernova that was hallmark, in the incoming spiral, already well on the trajectory to Mother's arms; to the nursery where the stars and gases and nebula would be used to suckle the young and feed those, like himself, working their Journey with purpose and grace.

He himself, however, was in the fore; the van guard of the armada of cognizant, slow spinning and civilized black holes - but far on it's bleeding edge as the Family Keep cruised the local group in search of intriguing stories and novelties and Opportunities generally to climb the eternal Well - as well as the simple resources needed to keep these ships afloat, he pragmatically reminded himself as he checked the elliptics for the whether gage. Their extreme vacillations beneath the surface belied the apparent calm about him : it was not long, now, but with this brief break in the action - back he turned to his musings and observations.

The center that housed the greater Family was well to the leeward and so as well his loved ones, having left the central data repositories at the hub Black Mother long ago in his stretching memory of now countless encounters; a rope of adventures across the face of the galaxy. Where he was now, finally, the conscious space was thin and dominated by the insane and wild black holes, untamed until the Archangels worked their magic.

Grateful, naturally they were - of course - for the data packages of condensed evolution that one could simply check out these days from the local info-library with 'convenient fractal branches scattered throughout any particular uberverse', as the jingle promised.

He could observe right now, within that event unreeling in his dream, scenes straight from the media decks - it was a flic using a pre-technology-era skin. Rustic and looking so soft and welcoming, melting with tiny petals of crisp, raw chaos falling in helical beds of melancholic nostalgia as the bells revealed the hour : 5 bells already and, today, being the seventh day of the eleven. He could recognize well the classic allegory, a seasonal favourite, that was unfolding . . .

and, then, in Art imitating life mimicking nature, in his resonant dream, he himself was recruited to occupy one of the avatars and experience it's Wonder, in full Life.

He was crouched at the crest of a scrub-covered hill, on a planet, and slowly rose erect ; two feet with nimble toes he could wiggle in the sands, planted flat on a solid orb and could eagerly smell the rosemary and wild garlic of a land being tamed of vampires and their ilk. Now that is a deep memory, pulling ancient quasicrystals of Memoria to the fore from his time in his green days of 3+1 space; skunk and terpenes so mischievously entwined, he could see their chemistry arranged in the quasicrystalline memory itself as he scaled back out.

And it brought vigour to his peripherals; he was too long now in that isolated bleeding edge where space was starting to re-freeze and was collapsing, as crystalline. The cycle would certainly go on long enough, perhaps even sufficient for him to climb through to the next level. But already, there was nip in the air and intergalactic space had started to collapse and neighbors would show up again as the intervening distance cooled and collapsed as redundant : containing no new information of uniqueness.

Cold indeed for conscious entities and thus the need for fatted calves to corral and eventually spiral in to feed and keep the Black Mother spinning all the way to the next Phoenix Event. Spinning optimally to keep the family data fresh and clean through careful, balanced meals. Thus, they prepared for the inevitable.

As the honour of being selected as among the shepherds of witness of the true Anointing spread through his being, thoughts so amazed and dazzled that he perceived a blush response under the neatly trimmed but stiff bristles covering his cheeks. The experience felt so real, so much sensual information flowing in the ripples of time despite the thin and dryness of the atmosphere. The usual 2-cubed fingers, lithe, paired with rising orthogonal thumbs, his one hand held a stiff staff of local wood as his other probed and could detect the warmth of flowing blood beneath the surface of supple skin, exploring his functional form, as the story flowing before his eyes made him dwell briefly on his own mother, who he barely got to know, before she herself had been promoted and thus he had one less reason to stay at the Family Keep.

This was an unexpected Gift from the Magi indeed; beautiful memories to link and couple with such an experience of a lifetime and despite the dazed state of radiating pure love as witness to the re-birth of the local God concept in a more pure and tamed form, cycled through the purifying Waters of the Divine Mother - a neighbor that could live in Peace among his Family, he kept wondering - What does this thrust of Consciousness into my experience Portend for me? Need I be readying myself in any manner? What colour are my Eyes? Do I have a Name? Why me? What am I?

In the far, distant black, the burning supernova was obvious hanging over the horizon, already winking yellowed light rays to reveal the crack of dawn yielding. In the foreground, the allegory unfolds of inverses, humility and what is truly of value to the Gods. Blue and rough and the product of busy fingers and clever minds were among the symbols of royalty and the pure genetics of corporal vessel and of grace as conscious form. Back with the Armada fore, hunting the wild, untamed consciousnesses of insanely spinning black holes that have wandered, netting mass and inertias and loose information since the big bang ; fragments of greatness from Before, cracked and annealed somehow and staggering on, unshepherded, he could sense that the meta-Event would be unfolding soon at this scale as Abiding filled the last of available slots and was meta-collapsing as Kairos heeded.

Instinct took over and He understood . . . he would soon be merging his Conscious calculating state and his billowing Dream state, there, right on this unadorned deck, splitting those cold, still waters. Waters soon to be roiling the neat, ordered furrow of their wake, the nearer drew that monstrous, spiraling black, dark and blackest of hole. He was entering unchartered spaces, realms that he had only as hints from his Mentors. He might even be made helpless and the thought filled him with mirth and Joy and so he laughed like a new born baby might. The promise eternal of Eternity belonging to those pure of Heart, the Reward as the inverse of our Humility, the Joy of earning, finally, our hard fought Freedom from the ignorance of knowing knot.

What a time to Be and 2 Observe, these crumbs for the poor.

JSM 11:29 am December 31, 2021

It Evolves!