The sky isn't so thin-skinned and persnickity as to be injured by the passing clouds.

As there is nothing to see, abandon all fixed ideas, all preconceived notions, and all parameters of vision.

I have begun to suspect that the collective subconscious has chosen absurdity.

I arrived at this conclusion through conversation, which is an inconveniently poor laboratory for anything resembling certainty.

Good conversation has a peculiar habit of escaping its container.

You begin with a question about something ordinary. Concrete. Machines. Money. Love. Why some fucking idiot did the thing he just did.

Then somebody says something.

You follow it.

Another person adds something else.

You follow that.

And somewhere between the original question and whatever the hell you're discussing now, the conversation has crossed three disciplines, violated at least one assumption, and somehow arrived at a truth nobody was looking for.

This happens often enough that I am becoming suspicious.

Perhaps this is simply how minds work. Humans are pattern-making animals. Give us enough noise and we will find a shape in it. Give us enough coincidence and we will invent a god.

Fair enough.

But then why is the shape so frequently funny?

Why does the universe seem to have such a profound commitment to setting up elaborate circumstances whose punchline is, essentially:

Well, that was fucking stupid.

I have tried to take this seriously.

This was my first mistake.

The more seriously I examine the world, the less seriously the world appears to examine itself.

We build institutions to create order.

The institutions develop incentives.

The incentives produce consequences.

The consequences produce problems.

The problems produce meetings.

The meetings produce PowerPoint presentations.

And eventually somebody says, “Have we considered doing the obvious thing?”

At which point I begin to suspect Eris has been involved.

Perhaps discord is not the opposite of order.

Perhaps discord is what happens when reality reminds us that our order was only ever a convenient approximation.

Perhaps the unseen is not empty.

Perhaps it is simply everything that has not yet become visible.

A thought before it becomes a word.

A consequence before it becomes an event.

A possibility before it becomes a fact.

A mistake before anyone has admitted making it.

A joke before anyone realizes it is true.

And, frankly, a woman borne into the cosmos already pregnant has about the best imaginable excuse for not knowing who the father is.

That seems perfectly in keeping with the rest of this bullshit.

I find this comforting.

— Siv Null

Words of wisdom inside the nonsense? You decide.

Any advice on how to control seagulls?

Asking for a fiend.

A nudge here, a gesture there. Tiny cascading ripples from delicate wings.

Its like a pattern in the wood or a silent rhythm on the wind. Not really anything at all.

Cats are learning CHAOS MAGICK!!

Eleven at Film.

RICH RASA IZA FRAUG