|when all else fails make some sense
||[Jun. 28th, 2008|07:38 am]
The Book of Fluids
|||||Starsailor - Music Was Saved||]|
I read once in the Necronomicon that in Cthulhu's language there is an action, ng'fhtagn'h; or "with-dreaming". For my words in the liber fluidorum, this is the left-hand orb of irrecumbent numinousness.
The right-hand orb is, as the permutators have taught, the process making sense of itself as a multitudinous, baroque cosmology to learn limitation and appreciation by enumeration.
As all limited expression of infinity is but one of many cries in wide darkness, such as of lashing horsepersons, thought of publication had never occurred me. With one hand, as I said, is imparted the social joy of dreaming among friends, in such a fashion as in one of myriad roleplaying games of beauty and glory that have come and gone in my time. In all such games nothing world-lasting is built, but rather things are made to dance and to serve for a brief while, before melting back into the clouded valleys between our cyclops-homing mountains. What dreams, but the most despairing, are consistent across the night? Thinking thusly I may have erred, and so poisoned the grounds with inconsistency, with overabundance of reference (are there enough lilies to weep over so many nameless graves?) and with broken threads. But that I thought, and planned little, but moved my brush by moments' impressions to move and dazzle my fellows, because so humble were the pretensions.
With the other hand, as I said, is imparted the knowledge outside truth that the book wrote itself upon the fabric of our lives and mine, not as a lower reality but as an elsewhere that is also home. Verily I doubt Klot or Corso ever shuddered as I have been made to shudder contemplating what I -- when being more foolish than usual -- claim to have written, as if I had freedom or control. And once granted these realities cross-influence, I have navigated into troubling paradoxic straits of cosmology, which I can but slowly negotiate: the unstoppable cunning of Moebius' plan and my delay in finishing my contribution coincide, for reasons the second paragraph of this essay explains.
And these explain why a) I never considered publishing, and so wrote in a careless way that would be nightmarish to revise unto publication, but I'm not against it; and why b) the end of XXXII eludes me still.
So, just as the graph of x to the power of two never truly reaches the X axis, you will never truly reach the end of chapter 32?
This makes Urwen sad ;_;.
Actually, about the unstoppability of Moebius - isn't there one flaw which makes him different from Anaxerribtijgfdjhd;jhjhzh that's oh exploitable?
WTF, leave it to me to remake the universe that's my job as Denouement Girl.
Did I mean X to the power of three?
show me what you already have if you so desire. I may be albe to aideyou with some lingering clifffhanger ideas.
Or you could just be postmodern and leave it unfinished as an aburpt end, and throw in some metaphysical reference to the death of creativity or something.
If I'm reading the description correctly (and I'm probably wrong) is that it's not so much that you don't know WHERE you want to take the characters as it's HOW you're going to get them there. In reference to the essay you mentioned, you know of point A (start of chapter) and point B (end of chapter) but attempting to connect all the pieces in between requires some connectivity that doesn't come easy.
If this is the case, I completely understand where you're coming from. I reference not simply every chapter from Book 2 and on, but also Modus Moriendi, in which I had to figure out how to finish Vinny's Thursday--the answer refusing to come to me until a repeated watching of Sin City--after which everything came startlingly easy.
But on the off chance I'm completely wrong in this respect and It's less of where you want to take the characters and more the what you want to take the characters through, then I would be quick to remind you that there's no set destination for our motley crew at this point in time and, if you have traversed as far as your mind will let you, do not feel obligated to let yourself anguish in the thought of feeling you must take the cast further before ending your chapter. I think, in the scheme of the Book as it was originally intended, we kinda missed the concept of letting chapters end for the next person to immediately continue. On the other hand, it would be inconsiderate of me to force you to do so, in any case. Just know that I will continue to be patient and await your contribution as long as it takes because I look forward to the things you wish to share.
In regards to your earlier note, the "with-dreaming": I hope you don't feel wrong or cheated or misled in any way. Reading your thoughts on how the Book came to be, I feel guilty for wanting to turn it into a publishable piece, because at the time, I did enjoy it on the same level, although I may not have realized it, and the thought of making it something to send off into the world were far from my mind.
I realize, ultimately, that the Book would be very much changed from what it is now to what it would need to be were we to pursue publication, but I also feel that our four brave heroes--and, in fact, many important parts of our supporting cast--have great staying power and would survive such a transition.
I'm rambling, aren't I?
The thing is, gents, I start my PhD in October, at which point it's very likely that I will cease to be able to do any kind of large writing project for the next three to four years, soooo, the clock is ticking to finish this thing, if you want it finished, well, ever.