n10 – Plasma and Structures (страница 1)
n10
Plasma and Structures
Plasma and Structures
Part 1
He placed the hot mug on the table. The sound of the action scattered throughout the room. The man disintegrated into molecules whose vibrations formed this very sound. The man was simultaneously the air, all the objects reflecting the wave, and the wave itself.
In periods when the sphere contracted to a certain degree, everything proceeded automatically, without overloads. The range of oscillations remained within acceptable limits relative to the vibrations of other spheres. Sometimes these were points with geographical coordinates, forming clusters. These clusters tended to compress larger spheres down to the size of the majority within the cluster. If they were clusters of spheres, they strove to expand the points inside themselves to a size similar to their own. The dynamics of changes in these points, spheres, and clusters — their mergers and displacements — gravitated toward a uniform distribution according to their ranges of expansion and contraction.
Cities and villages connected by roads formed clusters and pathways between them, covering the planet like categories with internal subcategories — fractally inward and outward. Their stabilities were distributed according to the vibrations of spheres within each subcategory by the distribution of an elusive thermodynamics, where everything is movement. Fixing the picture was conditional, probabilistic, limited by the subject’s perception — relative to the range of dynamics of the sphere of perception in the corresponding period and moment of the subjective gaze.
Sometimes the phenomenological topology folded into two-dimensional space. Details merged into a river. He moved along a Möbius strip.
The first morning sun rays, washing over the planet in a wave, activated the awakening people, animals, and birds, who moved in a wave at the call of metabolism, returning by evening to their previous places. Thus the averaged planetary morphism repeated itself. By morning, everything began anew.
Everyone speaks different words, each in their own way. Some words affect some people positively and others negatively. Sometimes they first affect others negatively, then surface at the right moment and influence positively, then negatively again, and vice versa. This has an oscillatory character. Words affect animals, fish, birds, and people to varying degrees, and possibly, at the molecular level, through waves, all objects in the form of their micro-vibrations.
Some people say, “I didn’t say that,” even though the audio recording clearly shows that they did. What could this be? Perhaps the subconscious erases the memory, having calculated that in case of discovering a contradiction, it would lose — losing a couple of thousand potential dopamine hits. This is somehow connected with mirror neurons. Perhaps it is adaptive micro-confabulation. Perhaps the statement was made in a state of micro-affect, or the utterance “I didn’t say that” itself was said in a state of micro-affect. It could be a habit, a pattern for neuro-optimization. On the other hand, it could be genes of impulsivity, temperament. It could be an inability to read one’s own memory — the memory is there, but it cannot be accessed due to an impulsive movement toward that memory, where the speed does not allow stopping at the right point and examining it. The gaze, by inertia, skips over that point, even on the second and third attempts. The subconscious and conscious accept these attempts as non-optimal and, in self-defense, choose energy-saving functions. Although a couple of thousand dopamine molecules and other peptides are not a great loss for long-term optimization, perhaps in some cases it is significant.
If research is correct, neurons seem to be drawn to each other, forming connections and fusing under certain conditions and with practice, at a speed of one millimeter every four days — roughly comparable to the average rate of hair growth on the head. Even if we discard this theory and simplify the brain as a neuro-architecture in three-dimensional space — neural highways where one can build bypasses and branches as additions to what already exists — these could be concepts in which clumps of energy can dissolve. Linguistic-logical structures that discharge tensions. For example, if a person lies, a micro-thermodynamic process arises in the body, which a lie detector can detect by reading increased sweating caused by agitation and elevated pulse.
If one looks at a refrigerator and says it doesn’t exist, the detector registers this as false information. But if a person is convinced that atoms consist of ninety-nine percent emptiness, and the refrigerator consists of atoms, then in reality it mostly consists of emptiness. Consequently, one can confidently say, with ninety-nine percent certainty, that the refrigerator does not exist. In that case, there is a probability that the detector will consider this information true, because the person will not be nervous. Theoretically, he is ninety-nine percent right, and his pulse will remain normal. This is hypothetical, yet still valid. Yes and no — this is the logic of George Boole, according to which multitudes of decisions flow. But between yes and no there are degrees and dynamics of yes and no, ninety-nine percent as the degree of atomic emptiness, the dynamics of yes and no, its relevance, its changeability over time, depending on the context from which one looks.
Yes and no can be simultaneously both wrong and right. The Möbius strip says that top and bottom are one continuous surface. The rhizome speaks of the absence of one main thing — the main thing is everything, everything is interconnected: microbes, metals in the body, algae. This is a kind of splitting. Perhaps it will not be beneficial, considering the subjective organism that has formed its own optimization paths over generations, its own ways of being. But if one remembers at least one new word, it is already a certain addition, an expansion of what already exists. There will be one more word’s worth of space for the electricity in the head.
Temperament, on the one hand, promotes life, but the matter is not only in *what*, but also in *how* — in speeds, dynamics, intensities.
Details can recede into molecules and cosmos, into silence, through the prism of abstract subjective logic, mathematics, animation mixed with a person who disintegrates into molecules and reassembles, splits in two, turning into two universes, each with its own world and internal worlds within.
In other words, it is like looking at anything that has difference and seeing difference. A picture in which there is at least something that differs from the background — where the background itself is the picture. Even if it is an empty white sheet, upon looking at which one can find differences: differences in perception, in vision. It is different for everyone — speaking of micro-shades, focus, coverage, range. A child has a small eye, an adult has a larger one, and the way it is processed in the head, and in time… If uniform light enters the eye, the subjective eye sees not only this light — it also sees some glares, darkenings at the edges, and movements. In the complete absence of light, light forms arise from memory: faces of people, events, and sounds — mixtures of memories of light and sound, taking shape inside the head.
In everyday life, the eye daily sees many differences: lines, colors, and shades, depending on where one is most often. In a room there are more straight lines and right angles — cabinets, chairs, nightstands, beds, boxes, tables, evenly glued wallpaper, floorboards laid uniformly. Everything influences the person. He himself becomes square and linear, unconsciously, partially. In the village — forest, river — everything is sinuous. The flora grows sinuously; if it is straight, it bends in the wind, forming waves. In general, it depends on which details we are talking about, what the subject is drawn to, and the situational context.
It is rather a geometric synthesis of curves and straight lines — an oscillating slider between a point and an infinite multitude of all possible and impossible forms.
On one hand, line and linearity are similar, but what does linearity mean? From birth to the end of life it is a line, but who remembers this line in full? Only fragmentarily. Even yesterday cannot be described linearly — it will rather be fragments limited to hours, minutes, rather second-long fragments. In other words, to say that life is linear, one needs to see it all at once, as a whole. Blinking divides the day into thousands of fragments. Linearity is connected with eventfulness, but those too are fragments, even if they smoothly transition into one another, because memories are fragments.
Linearity is also linguistics — the word “linearity” itself. Geometry as the forms of events unfolding in linearity. Intuition. Memory. Linearity as society: everyone knows that linearity and society exist, but no one has ever seen them entirely — just as with everything else in certain molecular senses.