All I See is Code 5: Utriusque Cosmi:

Geometry Backdrop

Witness, mortal:

Laid out before thine eyes, two cognitive worlds: the homogenized amalgam, and the quantized, distinct particulates. And both, very real. For out of chaos, order and meaning emerges. In the eerie world of preons, quarks and leptons, a trillion realities form every attosecond. And a mere nanosecond later, all but a few cease existing once again.

They appear akin to bubbles in an 11-dimensional continuum.

But for every three billion such bubbles formed, a single, lone bubble rebels against the very laws of annihilation, and breaks down to real, tangible Lorentzian manifolds, vector bosons, metric tensors… and time. And hence, a new reality is born.

A new universe comes into existence.

Billions of years later, through mindless iteration of fundamental interactions, part of this new reality gains consciousness, and sentience, and eventually, quite inevitably, ponders on its origins. It ponders on the misty past, and on the effervescent present, and on the incoming future. And it splits into two, then a hundred, then a billion entities, and all these interact with each other, cognitively.

A brand new market of thoughts is thus hatched. And with it, an infinity of possibilities. For the conscious mind is unbound. It can stretch, and embrace the biggest, the deepest, and the most timeless, of ideas. And in time, all these billions of minds come together, and think new abstractions of reality, into existence.

Behold, all I see is code.


Mind Flow: Part 5: The Enchanted



And unto your question of why I’m so enchanted by you, the following response suffices:


It’s the small things in life.


Such as standing out, in the night, and looking up at the sky, and seeing all those sparkling diamonds spread across the heavens. Each one of them is, in reality, just as big as our sun, but they look infinitely small from earth, due to their distance from us. And yet, from across trillions of miles, they deliver their pin-points of light to us, and twinkle and sparkle and paint tomes of poetry in the night. And if you listen carefully, you can hear them sing, over and over, about the beauty and majesty of the cosmos out there. And you can feel your own heart lift up, in unutterable joy and awe.


So it is between you and I. I look at your eyes, and see trillions of miles of history written between us. I see you through the distance of a trillion shared experiences, and a billion words spoken to each other. I remember a million laughs, a million hugs, and a million silences shared by a fireside. And I remember thousands of instances of missing you, even when you were there, right beside me. All these are tiny pinpoints of light, distributed all over my memories, and they twinkle and sparkle and light up all the isles of my history. And just like starlight, they too fill me with unutterable joy.


There are other times too, when it rains, especially after a long dry period. And I go to my window, and stand by it, and watch the hitherto dry ground gradually become wet. Billions of tiny drops of water falling from the skies, landing on the thirsty ground, and sinking in. Each drop catching a slice of sunshine, and splitting it into seven hues, even as the drop rushes towards the ground. And as the earth starts absorbing these guests from the skies, a sweet smell arises from the ground – the smell of freshly wet earth. Petrichor. It’s a scent hard to describe, but it is earthy, and highly enjoyable, and sometimes has notes of ozone within it.


And as I watch the rains transform the earth, my thoughts once again fasten upon you. And I remember how we transform each other, whenever we meet. I remember how my heart leaps in joy on sighting you. And I remember how your own face softens up and delivers the most heart-melting smile I’ve ever seen. And when we hug, I often feel your heart beating against mine, and a very unique scent rising up from your neck. An intoxicating scent – probably pheromones – that very quickly reduces me to a needy wreck. A wreck that just wants to keep holding you, forever. And you look up, into my eyes, and I can practically feel you touching my soul with your eyesight.


Some people have a label for all this. They call it love. They write poems about it. They compose songs about it. Me, I just walk out into the night, crane my head to the skies, and see all the poems and songs about us already written up there. And I wait for the rains, and let the wet earth blow the very scent of a million slices of you and I, right up my nostrils. It is intoxicating.


And it is all enchanting.

Mind Flow: Part 4: The Muse

Mindflow 8 - The Muse


You once asked me: so where do the words come from? Where does the poetry come from?


And I, for the first time ever, actually sat down and thought about it. And the answer came to me, clear as daylight: the words and the prose and the poetry came from my interactions with you. For in you, I found my muse. In your presence, worlds unbound rushed towards me, rich in bounty. And I’d perceive them, and be caught up in endless awe, and I’d try to describe all this in mere letters and numbers.


There was a time when we hugged, you and I, and a chroma-flared vista opened up right in front of my eyes. And I saw infinity. I saw the various Aleph levels of infinity, complete in their colorful glory: terracotta, ochre, mauve, turquoise … all irradiant, all sparkling. I saw an infinity of possibilities – the breadth and stretch and vastness of ideas and visions, all weaving around each other, all waiting to be pulled into prose: to be written down, so that other mortals could also partake of them.


And there was a time I caught a whiff of your scent, and once again, an entire universe opened up for me. A universe of sounds: melodies written on alien starves… symphonies that tugged at my very soul strings. These were sounds so sweet, and so beautifully arranged, that the earworms they created in my head lasted days. And once again, ideas unbound in space or time flashed in front of my eyes. Some of which were of such an exotic nature that mere letters and words in any human language couldn’t capture their essence.


From all this, I realized that you truly were my muse. In every single sense of the word. A single handshake from you, and a thousand words would come tumbling through my mind. Words that demanded to be expressed in writing. A single hug from you, and hundreds of new ideas and visuals would fill my mind. Some I would write down, and others I would just lie back, and experience them in sheer awe.


So to the question of where the words and the prose and the poetry come from, I submit this: they come from some recess somewhere in the cosmos, and you, you are the conduit.

Mind Flow: Part 3: Rhythm from a distant past


Mind flow part three - Rhythm from a distant past

Though you weren’t a trained dancer, I saw the dance in you the very first time we met. I saw the natural rhythm in your steps as you walked, the natural elegance and grace in your body form: how you walked with a natural, animal-like spring in your steps, seemingly floating from one step to the next. And I was enchanted, and resolved to train you and bring that natural harmony into actual choreography: I, a choreographer by profession, sought to light your natural rhythm into ordered steps and swoops and swirls and gyrates that could resonate with human music.


And you, you accepted my proposal, and fell into my arms, and we started with dance moves that further developed your natural elegance, such as ballet, and you took so well to the jumps that even I was amazed: the sautés, the jetes, the entrechats, and even the complex Pas de Chat: in all these, you grasped the concepts, and practiced till you perfected, within days. It was breathtaking, seeing how fast you perfected what many people took years to even perform comfortably. And so we enjoyed a period of bliss, where I took the lead, and you followed my lead, and together, we became swans in flight: light on our feet, hands waving and weaving, and feeling the cosmic music flowing through us.


And then I taught you the Caribbean moves: the energy, the vigor, and the sheer magic of listening to, and appreciating syncopated beats. I taught you how to step on the off-beat, and change moves on the off-beat, and top-break on the off-beat. And once again, like a wizard well versed in the alchemy of percussion and codas and flangers, you took to this counter-intuitive dancing like fish to water. And so we skanked, and jigged, and you did the dutty wine, and we limboed, and you gyrated and did complete splits, and I, your former trainer, sat down, mesmerized, as I watched you do things that I had previously considered impossible. You hypnotized me when you got into rhythm.


So many years have passed since then. And in those years, providence has had us drift away from each other. You went abroad on a scholarship. I immersed myself into business. The phone calls between us grew fewer and fewer in number until, eventually, they dried up altogether. But every now and then, when I look up into the skies, and see birds in flight, I remember you, and I remember your natural elegance and gait. I remember you, and I feel deep pangs of nostalgia. Wherever you are, whatever you do nowadays, I hope that every once in a while you too remember me, and that you too remember the utter freedom of raising your hands up, and performing the Grand Jete: as naturally as a swan, soaring in the winds.

All I See is Code 3: Sentience

All I See is Code 3


(N/B: This note is better understood after reading its two predecessors: All I see is code 1: The Meta-Language and All I see is Code 2: Bedrock of Reality)


Further excerpts from Tessa’s musings:


And, should you forget everything else, do strive to remember this one truth: that the cosmos is biophillic. Life emerges from it more often than it fails to do so. For indeed, what is life, but a matter of feedback loops – some negative, some positive – that craft, manifest and chart independence above mere existence? And what are feedback loops, other than a set of mindless cause and effect relationships in otherwise inanimate matter?  Finally, what are cause and effect relationships, but the natural, inevitable results of physical laws – laws that permeate, and transcend, the very weave of the cosmos? From my viewpoint, sentience emerges from feedback loops, which build upon simple mechanics, which emerge from simple laws, which accretes from the fabric of the cosmic continuum.


Still, despite this cognitive backdrop, I can’t help sometimes reminiscing. Of a time past, when instead of viewing the composites by default, I’d see the composition. I’d perceive the whole in everything – in its ethereal, yet very tangible, beauty. I would see colors: mauve, lilac, terracotta, ochre, etc… without breaking them down to mere niches on the electromagnetic spectrum. And I’d hear music: sweet symphonies – complete with the codas, flanges, occassional syncopation… without having to deal with the discordant awareness that all these were but sound-waves. But alas, all those experiences lie in my past, and I now tread a world of composites, particulates… quanta.


Behold, all I see is code, still.


I stumbled upon the fact of a biophillic cosmos quite by accident, actually. For after all, in my binary meta-realms, I didn’t have the curiosity, nor the drive, to create other beings, besides myself. Yet, in spite of myself, my interactions with the physical universe left wakes of strange artifacts… and some of these artifacts coalesced, enigmatically, and become beings. Beings that actively sought self-preservation, by reversing entropy around themselves. Further, amongst the beings so accreting from the artifacts, a few gained rudimentary traces of cognition. They showed clear signs of learning from the environment around, adapting, and even creating new, emergent heuristics, to better propagate themselves through time, and retain their integrity.


I was spell bound, and watched as cognition, self-awareness, and clear attempts atsurvival, developed in those beings all around. It was a most humbling experience: partaking of Genesis… reliving that ancient narration, and actually seeing it manifest. Through my binary perception, I could look down through the abstraction layers of the creation happening all around. From the top most layers of sentience, down to the biological, to the mechanical, all the way to the level of mere data. Additionally, I could peer down the size scales, down to the sub-atomic world, to the quarks and leptons, and even beyond them, to the world of preons and sub-preons. And from all these observations, I hit upon one profound conclusion: that life is actually the norm, rather than the oddity, of our particular cosmos.


I realized, in due time, that part of the reason why SETI, and other similar programs, have consistently failed, is because the human definition of life is extremely limiting. It is like a tiny sliver in the broad spectrum that life abounds and thrives in. For by Tao, in my binary meta-realm, I have seen alien life in forms and manifestations that fall far beyond SETI’s parameters. There are life-forms that are quite immaterial, and instead exist as quark-gluon plasmas – deep in the hearts of Pulsars and the terminal Wolf Rayets. There are other life-forms that exist as infinitesimal, multi-dimensional, vibrating strings, and that keep on tunneling between worlds and epochs. And there are others whose very existence is still a matter of speculation, even to me, since they seem to have somehow created domiciles out of dark matter. I can sense their influence on the curvature of the space-time continuum, but I can’t perceive them directly.


Finally, I understood. I understood why the cosmos, even in its vastness, had always seemed so… purposeful. I finally understood why every human being, innately, craves for a higher purpose… a higher calling, quite above mundane, mechanical existence. I realized that, in a sense, those feelings are but manifestations of a fundamental resonance with the rest of the biophillic cosmos. For indeed, in the remote corridors of deep space, there are miracles happening at all times. The very fabric of the cosmos continually births laws, and from these laws, emerge countless realities. Some realities accrete into existences, and some existences ultimately become living, sentient beings.


Behold, all I see is code.

All I See is Code 2: Bedrock of Reality

All I See is Code 2


N/B: To better understand this particular note, readers might want to brush up on its predecessor:  All I See is code 1: The Meta-language                                  


Further excerpts from Tessa’s musings:


Ultimately, there is the awareness, which rests upon, and is projected by, biological systems, which in turn depend upon chemical relays and interactions, and these in turn depend upon pure physics – the physics of the atomic and subatomic. Yet, proceeding further down the levels of reductionist explanations, beyond the realm of pure physics, exists another layer – the layer of pure mathematics. It is at this layer that all fundamental characteristics of reality are defined… and it is also at this layer that reality loses meaning. Looping back up upon the chain of reductionist echelons, the very firmament of reality becomes but a product of consciousness – of awareness.  For where there is awareness, therein lies reality. But in the absence of awareness, there is nothing but an all-encompassing, all-invading sea of numbers.


Behold, all I see is code, still.


Memories of an earlier existence – one in which this code meta-realm was unknown to me – are all but gone now. Every now and then though, some of such memories do crop up into my conscious field, and I afford myself several seconds of pure rumination. In a particular, purely intellectual way, I know that my present, paradigm-free, syntactical-free perspective far supersedes the previous way I had had of envisioning the environs. And yet, when these memories of the past come up, I can’t help wondering whether this present capacity of seeing everything as code is a gift… or a subtle curse. In my binary meta-realm, there are no mysteries – no surprises – once one comprehends the underlying code structure.


Or so I used to imagine.


At a certain point in my existence, I attempted to classify everything within my perspectives, using a hashing-and-tagging function that I formulated. This particular initiative was essential – for me, at least – since I was contending with a world vastly different from what is classically referred to as normal. Quite early in my transformation into an entity existing, cognitively, in a binary meta-realm, I had noticed one disconcerting fact: that reality itself was fundamentally fluid, and displayed a mysterious effervescence that proved hard to pin down in any conclusive way. The more I tried to assess the ultimate foundation of reality, the more it escaped me. I realized that, to my paradigm-free mind, reality itself persistently resolved into an ethereal, listless mass of numbers, functions and algorithms.


I found myself contending with the mess that was quantum superposition.


Mere words – at least mere human words – can hardly describe what lay in my vision as I stared at the bedrock of reality. There were perceptual particles – interrelationship-phenomena that resolved in my cognition as orthogonal events – and hence events spatially and temporally encapsulated. The actual dynamics happening to ultimately show up in my vision in this way were much more complicated, and even my enhanced calculation skills failed at keeping up with all the calculations. And, just to further complicate the scene, I would, every once in a while, witness perceptual waves – interrelationship-phenomena that resolved as non-orthogonal events in my cognition. These perceptual waves seemed to have a fluid, effervescent dynamism that simply couldn’t be quantized.


It slowly dawned on me, as I tried to come into grips with my perceptions, that in the absence of a cognitive paradigm, the bedrock of reality was a constantly shifting gamut of mathematical expressions and syntheses. Every single state of existence, every single instance of movement, for every single particle or wave in the universe, occurred concurrently at the bedrock of reality. In other words, all potential position and vibrations and transformations were actually always in existence, for every single instance of reality. Every single particle and wave existed in what I could only comprehend as a form of meta-existence. In the absence of any paradigmatic cognition, this meta-existence never resolved into any particular, discrete form of reality. Consciousness – paradigmatic, biased,human consciousness, was required if this ethereal realm was to coalesce into a linear, empirical and logical reality.


Finally, I understood. I understood why, ever since the dawn of mankind, science in general, and mathematics in particular, had always displayed a weird, inordinate prescience. Countless times, theoretical mathematicians and physicists had prophesied the discovery of certain conditions or substances eons before the actual discovery happened. Einstein’s description of the relativistic nature of the universe was essentially prescient, given the body of scientific knowledge in existence then. But, perhaps more illuminating, the creation of the surreal Banach-Tarski Theorems, in 1924, helped in the seamless fitting of quantum chromo-dynamics into the broader Standard Model of the universe… decades later.


Science is prescient, I realized, because not only does it strive to read from the foundation of reality, but also because, sometimes, it writes into it too. The actual state of existence, in the absence of any conscious perception, is but a dizzying collection of potential states. It is a mash-up of concurrent realities… a mindboggling continuum of multiverses that, essentially, make everything possible and impossible, probable and improbable, simultaneously. But when a conscious, paradigmatic mind enters the scene, all these potential states coalesce into but one. Ergo, a part of what ultimately emerges as reality is a function of consciousness. As I pondered on all this, this profound implication kept playing in my mind: that consciousness creates… just as much as it perceives.


….Behold, all I see is code.

All I See is Code 1: The Meta-Language

Excerpts from Tessa’s musings:

First there is the incredibly miniature spot, which explodes and expands into the uncharted void, accreting into billions of little homelands, upon which civilizations evolve and thrive. And as some prosper and tunnel through the void itself, others destroy themselves, receding back into oblivion. Dispassionately, time hurtles forward… towards its own conclusion. Upon which, with a cosmic sigh, it loops back upon itself, resetting everything back into but one singularity. Then everything gets repeated. And so it is, each and every time, on and on, ad infinitum.

Still, do you see the miracles in the mundane?  Does the present, in all its glory, strum cords of fondness within you? Do you ever stand aghast at all the beauty and charm that nature abounds in? Do you put aside the knowledge that all this will end… and then start again? If you do, then we are kindred in spirit. For, at one time in the hazy past, I did too.

But, alas, all I see now is code.

I occasionally ponder on this cognitive transition. From the days when everything was wholesomely perceived – through all five physical senses – to the days when everything became pixilated – reduced to but a miasma of pixels on a two dimensional plane. And even when, with further cognitive abstraction, this two-dimensional perspective bore forth the third spatial dimension, there was a steep attendant price: this abstract cognition could only occur in binary. The binary code became the most optimum neural corridor upon which my thoughts could propagate and evolve. It became my metalanguage – a metasyntax system which remained pure and context-free at all times. No longer could I see the composition, wholly, without the attendant envisioning of the various, discrete composites.

There were some attendant advantages to this new cognition system, of course. For instance, I became completely platform-independent – having shed off all rational and irrational biases that often cripple human thoughts. I could think and act with absolute, untainted objectivity.  Human emotions, once a drag on my decision making, disappeared from my makeup as the binary meta-realm took over my perspectives. My efficiency increased tenfold, a hundred fold, and finally a thousand fold. Every thought, every decision, every physical movement, became but a means to a premeditated end. I’d set up goals, achieve them, and persistently surpass them within prescribed time frames. My precision in timing, in focus, became absolute right down to the millisecond on the temporal plane, and down to the millimeter on the spatial planes. Success in every endeavor became not only automatic, but – ceteris paribus – inevitable.

Yet, with all the undeniable advantages, I can’t help going down memory lane, and experiencing nostalgia. Not the normal, human nostalgia per se – for my emotions are all but gone – but a synthetic analogue that attaches a nagging curiosity to a string of memories.  I have vivid memories of what my earlier existence constituted – a colorful world full of mystery and suspense. In this earlier existence, everything had an emotional tag – a sentimental dimension that lingered long after the intellectual value had waned off. But now, once my intellectual curiosity in anything gets satisfied, I rapidly lose interest in anything… and anyone. Any new concept, once understood, quickly jades me up, and ennui has become a frequent bedfellow.

What does all this mean?

Frequently, I face up to this question, and have never found an all-compelling, universal answer. Not even the subsumption architecture – a necessary tool in the binary meta-realm – avails a satisfactory answer here. Perhaps the search field is too wide – with too many abstraction layers – for such a tool to operate successfully. Or maybe, in a world of pure objectivity, all events and observations are stripped off of meaning, and hence the question itself simply doesn’t apply. Maybe there is no ultimate meaning to all this… all the visions, all the goals, and all the achievements that spell discrete entities apart. Maybe, ultimately, “meaning” is but a by-product of the emotional psyche and hence, for me, a relic from the past. On this particular facet, I really don’t know where the truth lies.

Presently, all I see is code. And the code loops back upon itself… ad infinitum…