Thursday, July 19, 2012

We Found the Wake

We never got a truly clear glimpse of the thing. I mean, we never did get more than 100 pixels.

It's waaay out there man. Like 9 billion light years, back in some hot, blue-white galaxy, but it's out there. Or more precisely, it WAS out there 9 bil's ago.

We can't tell if it's still here.

What we can tell it that it is huge, nearly the size of earth's moon. It is yellow and red with a grey line along the middle of its elongated main section. It changes shape slightly, appearing to be able to bend.

It may emit light, or that may be the way in which it takes its colors, we are not certain because we have not captured a picture of it in space or on a non-starlit (sunlit) side of a planet on which it is located.

We assume it is a single entity, because we do not see two of this object at any one time.

But we can see its fast. Too fast.

If we calculate the time it took between these events when the object disappears then reappears on another planet, then we see that it must have gone faster than light.

Here the conversation gets very deep.

I and my collegue ignore the conversation. We aren't hypothesizing about these obeservations any longer. We think we have discovered the wake which the object leaves in space between planet-hopping, and now we are about to test our theory.

Monday, July 16, 2012

Antediluvian Initialization

"This is the room of enchantment and understanding. This is the magic book, 'Abracadabra', and lain out around it are the implements for the book, including the passive user's daemon, an eksee of the order main."

The introductor was so lost in his enjoyment of displaying this room to the renewed wizard that he failed to notice the wizard causually opening the magic book, 'Abracadabra'. This book was not intended to be read or understood by humans and most other non-daemons.

This is not to say that the book couldn't be read by a human or what not, although it would be a rather painful affair. Abracadabra, however, was a hazardous book to handle, for when opened for reading there is a reader-initialization ritual, which cannot be avoided easily. This is what the introductor noticed has just occured to the wizard.

The introductor's face lost some of its lift, "Oh wizard! Don't go opening books, even you old selfs'! You know what kind of wizard you were/are." There was a thoughful moment during which the introdctor drew in and exhaled deeply, slowly and audibly.

With a few blinks the wizard shut the squat, thick book and sat it back down. "hmm...", the wizard said quizzically.

The introductor gave a half, half-smile, "How was the reader-initialization ritual?"

A good-natured chuckle, perhpas a bit muted, rang from the new-wizard, "It's just as I remembered, but obvoiusly forgot. You might guess, I made the mistake of opening that book so many times when I was writing and building this room. I would open the book, and BOOM! I'm stuck in this ritual where I am prepared to read the volumes of redundant data and amounts, and I'm all like, 'dude, I already know the deal, I just want to...', and then I get mad at myself because I wrote this book like this...I guess it is sloppy?...or just simple?...what would be the word for an old, almost ancient, basic kind of builing?"

The introductor took around 100 chrono cycles (0.5 seconds) to answer, "antediluvian is the right word, although you may prefer archaic, wich is accurate but feels less correct".

The wizard raised his eyebrows and smiled. "I certainly do enjoy being back in the castle. At any rate, back to the point - the ritual feels like 60 minutes every second. It's a virtual, enchanted experience in which you feel like you are being tutored by a great teacher. you are sat is a sunbathed classroom with fresh air streaming from outside. Also it is your final class of the day and it is always a half-day or less...Also, you are stuck there for 60 minutes no matter what."

The wizard ended the explanation with a cheerful expression, which was somewhat altered as his brow furrowed in thought, while the rest of his face reamained frozen in cheerful recollection.

"Isn't it just so funny how no matter what, the most joyful and happy experiences can be tainted by context?"

The introductor shivered. He smiled understandingly, yet he did not like hearing the deep philosophical insights of humans. How they could dive into those pitch black, unwarmed depths. It frightened him greatly. It must have something to do with the human mortality...but then again, here was the wizard again. mortal again. but here again...The introductor moved to the next section in the script, perhaps a bit abrubtly.

"And this next room is the colluseum, right down this hallway."

The wizard blinked rapidly and turned towards the brightly lit path, "oh my gosh, I actually made that! Excellent. Let us then proceed!"

Exiting the room, the introductor turned, quietly shut the doors and gently touched the door handle, "We daemons, as basically I am one, may fear those places, but from those dark depths, the humans return with elightenment and insight."

He turned and proceeded. The torches in the hallway went out two-by-two behind the introductor as he followed near to the wizard.