Telescope to Kaleidoscope - TheInterposer
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Telescope to Kaleidoscope<br>Nonlinear Orientation of the Transparent Eyeball, Part 1
TheInterposer<br>Jul 31, 2026
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(first draft/notes, just burning the siege tents and taking a run at it)
Note:N.O.T.E. :: ?<br>this writing cast off from shore as a freeform brainstorm of current markets and general clutter, just trying to clear my head, and then an attempt to clean those notes up, and so on. It became a thesis of Theseus situation, now containing no direct transliteration of any of its original material. It is a mosaic assemblage of oblique misconceptions, at its center, Empty. This writing is completely unrelated to those original notes, and unrelated to reality, or not; it depends on how you look at it.
“The True is the whole. But the whole is nothing other than the essence consummating itself through its development. Of the Absolute it must be said that it is essentially a result, that only in the end is it what it truly is; and that precisely in this consists its nature, viz. to be actual, subject, the spontaneous becoming of itself.”<br>-Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel
“ I stumble on an idea once a fortnight if I am lucky.<br>—These questions are very profound, Mr Dedalus, said the dean. It is like looking down from the cliffs of Moher into the depths. Many go down into the depths and never come up. Only the trained diver can go down into those depths and explore them and come to the surface again.<br>—If you mean speculation, sir, said Stephen, I also am sure that there is no such thing as free thinking inasmuch as all thinking must be bound by its own laws. ”<br>...<br>“—You are an artist, are you not, Mr Dedalus? said the dean, glancing up and blinking his pale eyes. The object of the artist is the creation of the beautiful. What the beautiful is is another question. ”<br>-James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
“Mensch werden ist ein kunst.”<br>(”To become human is an art.”)<br>-Novalis
“That’s just like your opinion, man.”<br>-The dude
I absolutely appreciate the irony of my deep enjoyment of sleep, a state in which I am unable to consciously register that enjoyment. At least I think that I do. I haven’t been sleeping much lately, and I woke up today feeling like a child whose toy has been taken away. I am fascinated by transitions. The first discernible forms in my mind were images, yielding to shades of the last thing I remember before falling asleep.<br>I thought of my friend currently in Yucatan, and a text message which I had sent. I imagined what the landscape looked like, what it smelled like, how hot it was, whether the heat was making wavy lines in the air, what it would be like to live there, what sort of rent they pay there, whether that was a place which I would be able to afford to retire to after whatever turbulence is about to propagate through the US labor market.<br>I thought about how markets seeping out of my first conscious thoughts was a sign to take a real break today, snip that momentum. If there are two things that I am worst at, they are starting and stopping. The more I view the world through the lenses of dynamic systems analysis and feedback loops, the more value I see in the ability to simply stop, and the insight of getting a feel for when to do so. This may be a loop of sorts itself; my knowledge of my inability to stop may be feeding my unwillingness to start.<br>Well, the night was stolen from me, and I would like to avoid burnout and recursive chart-hopping, so coffee and a spliff it is. I could think about whether that makes sense, but that is just the sort of risk/opportunity assessment I sought refuge from.<br>I successfully stood, attempted to just sit, and flushed my mind as best I could of categorical concerns. I admired the form and function of my AeroPress, and the smell of freshly ground coffee once again launched my limbic system into a tailspin of sense memories. I was still a bit blurry, I felt the warmth of the steam and noticed the water boiling, and the scraping as I stirred. I watched cream plume into the black, the display was wonderful as always.<br>I already felt like I was perceiving reality differently just half-supposing the notion that I wouldn’t be writing or analyzing or reading or fleshing out frameworks today. Not that I expected that dynamic to stick; the transition between projecting abstractions onto abstractions and practicing open aware presence is daunting. I was recently writing (about seemingly unrelated subjects) and this idea kept popping up, the idea that there may be conscious thoughts, and subconscious thoughts, and thoughts able to traverse the two, and how their essence and nature might differ from each other, how their relationship with context and orientation methods might differ.<br>The liminal space between waking and sleeping seems like just the sort of place thoughts, bound by...