Information is alive, you you may have noticed - or rather - it's like the shell of the chambered nautilus, or the pearl of the oyster - a concrete residue formed by the forces of growth and time. Websites are really information palaces, cathedrals, caves - or maps of our reality tunnels - and when traumatized - leave the traces of their passing through time, as fluctuations in their rate of change, direction, or the chirality or rotation in information space.
The life of the website is truly a thing to behold, fascinating - like the rings of a tree or the dendritic inclusions of the moss-agate. And speaking of dendrites, we could never overlook the nervous system! In a shell making animal, the shape of the shell will echo the creature that generated it, whether merely in the negative, providing protection, or by it's generation expressing the creatures reaction to outward forces..
The Permanent Record, (in whose Shell you now are) was originally generated by a dream, whatever that is - and served as a defense mechanism for the dreamer, who it now appears, may have been the dreamed. Originally a nebula of work scattered across the internet, the information became centralized for control purposes, in a frivolous maze, reminiscent of the Winchester House, and for good reason.
In a convulsive spasm - the information was concentrated in Nugyn-8000, and was processed into infospace in iweb, trickled up into the early proto-cloud, (the term: a hideous and dangerous simplification, as if for a very young child) where it lived for 5 years more or less happily in seclusion, growing by it's own sloppy whimsical patterns into a kind of large internet site. The impulses that formed it cycled through the media, approximately once a month, in a spiral.
I blame Chris Shine; his early adoption of what we are now pleased to call 'the web' inspired me to plunge in and stake a claim. I blame Peter Choice, whose massive, hilarious and acidic net diary predated modern blogging by ten years and I blame Geoff White - in some way that i have yet to define. The list will never be complete..
i blame Cw=4tabs for embodying a staunch unyeilding infocentric aesthtic far and beyond the realm of what is humanly possible. It drove people nearly batshit - and even now - no one knows for certain how it was accomplished.And now, after suffering a terrible blow, the Shell has hardened all around the Frozen Core, protecting me and nourishing the Core with your kind attentions Now that the Mac Nuygn-10000 has been assimilated, borg-style by the Heisenberg Deathstar pc running Tobii pc eye...after a two year running battle to avoid the pc platform, ever more desperate as the meatspace rejected me, during which time the production of work, the public persona, the online presence fluctuated madly, then dwindled to nothing... I am pleased to report that this semi-stable working arrangement has been reached I am now am officially a disembodied human brain, attached to the internet by two thin shafts of light But i can work with that. I haven't heard from the Vimana with Newjack and Proxi for a long time, probably they are infinitesimals by now... Oldejack and Suregrip jumped into a bottomless pit in the hollow moon, and i can't dream anymore because of the drugs, so i can't follow them... It was only an illusion right? That you were ever not hooked on machines, dependent for your very life on unseen interior systems - themselves sub-systems... Disneyland with the plug pulled is a lonely frozen place. i am pure happy tech, and the human, is displeased.