Shakespeare Balances Jonquils in the Eyes of a Doppleganger at Stonehenge

Some video game erupts in the supraconsciousness

a who's who of human paranoia:

actors, actresses: assigned their psychosocial roles, 

putting on costumes, walking through the door as if they 

were designed or engineered by some Mad Scientist 

from some Mythological Dimension.  They've got the slick 

the hip, the ideas, generated from Ancient Greece to World of Warcraft,

replicant monologies, thematic apperception tests,

inkblots daring someone to describe them, out of context, so the 

world can erupt in a pyromania of nightmares,

a sudden synergy of the 21st Century, which was over before 

it even began, 

that moment that crystallized in the Infosphere, a strange architecture

of quasilogical beings erupting like rare blossoms,

only appear once every ten thousand Imaginary Numbers, then the Sky 

turns colors and the Green Language erupts in the back of the Brain,

there's a back door to Consciousness, it's randomnicity is virtual 

and does not depend on the Constancy of the Void, but try explaining 

that to anyone obsessed with the Next Virtual Mapping of Whatever it Is that 

Is Mapping Itself across the Noosphere, a strange synergy, it;s like sitting 

between two highly polished mirrors, and suddenly glimpsing something in the depths 

that should not be there --- like a Grandmotherly face erupting in bioluminescent 

impressions, an  Echo unleashed by Coincidence, 

racing from Brain to Brain until the Astronauts arrive at the edge of the horizon 

and the Terrestrial wisdom is exponentialized by the same principle 

that operates the moment the fish 

leaps out of the fish tank and begins climbing up the Christmas Tree

and everyone in the room acts as if it was just normal,

which of course, it may be --- depending upon the definition of normal,

but back in the 1980's there was a specific antecedent 

of that crystalline fracture, in which the Noosphere opened, a fractal sequence

containing nothing but New Verbs, 

the kind of verbs whose Wisdom is not predicated upon human comprehension,

but that are essentially indescribable, the same way the Beings at the Top of the Sky

are to the fish at the bottom of the ocean,

the Editors inside the Clockworks have derived an unresolved paradox 

from the Smiling Shadow that dwells where Einstein 

realized the nature of light, the same theory that haunted both Goethe and Newton,

the one that drifts through the mind but does not quite ever come to rest,

but whirls the consciousness into electromagnetic vortices, 

changing the firing patterns, you'll be lucky if you get your capacity to think straight back

it's a code that breaks the code that writes the code and then sends various 

axons and dendrites into what amounts to freefall, a disintegrative cohesion 

of energy --- synesthesia, like a doppelganger arriving onstage during a performance

of Hamlet --- and the audience cannot actually see the Spectre, because it is unexpected,

an Optical Illusion that would have made Shakespeare smirk, 

out there underneath the shadows of Stonehenge. 

Reviews

[Robin]

they think , therefore they think some more ... insane in M-brane

and those theorists , shout shout shout , me me me

perception ala moi

[.]

i feel i have to be a quantum physicist to give this a proper review.
and god i've never wanted to be one so bad as now!..

[Hawkmoon]

www.cern.ch