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Post by Spot on Nov 19, 2024 22:02:55 GMT -5
Marie was drinking the hot chocolate. Seeing her success, Spot once again emulated her silhouette, and tried to echo her motions, too. brought the cup up to face— it was hard to tell because of the ‘textureless, absolute black’ situation, but there was an emulated face there, with a mouth, and lips-shaped lips— and tried to drink like Marie was drinking. If this had happened just a few weeks before, Spot would have had some trouble even holding the cup without dropping it, as if fingers weren’t fully there. Now, though, the cup seemed as steady in hands as it did in Marie’s. A small amount of hot chocolate entered mouth… followed immediately thereafter with a strange splatting noise. It wasn’t visible at all, for it had happened where Spot was sitting, but Marie would have been able to hear that the liquid of the hot chocolate had entered mouth and had shortly after met the end of what knew to make tangible, falling through body and to the surface of the seat below. Perhaps satisfied with this ‘success’, Spot put the cup down again and once again took on more generic, featureless silhouette.
Destroy the world? Ah. Perhaps those were the words. It was the… internalisation, and the placing the inside over the outside. To know the world, it had to be… destroyed? To label a brick as a ‘brick’, the brick must first be nihilated. No, sorry, annihilated. Silly me. What a silly mix-up— how could that have happened? If this was what ‘smashing the wheel’ meant, then that was nice, Spot knew some more words… it also provided Spot with some retrospective context so as to better understand Marie’s previous invocations of ‘the Wheel’. The Wheel was the world— or, perhaps, more widely, the Wheel was all that which existed as things-in-themselves, existing without justification and beyond perception. To see the Wheel from the side was to see more of it, and to see that it could not all be seen from a single perspective— the very movement, whether of the Wheel or the observer, demonstrated the existential link between action and perception. Yes, Spot was something aside from the Wheel— oh, and perhaps the ‘seeing it was I’ was a reference to the intersubjective development of the third existential dimension of the body…? Seeing that by which you are seen, understanding your objectification to the Other? Or perhaps…
The hot chocolate was gone now. Once again, Marie was leading somewhere. ‘Philosophical’; strange word, that. I wonder what a philosoph was.
There was a fire here, though Spot didn’t know it was called that. It excited the air around it, and just kept on consuming. These mortals looked to it like it was normal— didn’t they know it was in a constant state of consumption, respiration, combustion?— but it would, in time, either die out, or consume all of the Wheel, sucking away at it and burn the world away. Didn’t the mortals know what they had brought so close to themselves? It brandished the corpuscles of the air with its presence, forcing trades and rearrangements upon the wind. Couldn’t the mortals hear it snicker at them? Couldn’t they tell? Perhaps the race towards a highest entropy state was the point.
Spot looked at the fire entirely unreadably.
”I do not think, so I do not am.” ‘corrected’. Or perhaps it was something had read in a book? ”I am not a sort” Nor a type, nor a kind. ”the Why? of the Wheel and the Why? of sentientness.” Brief pause. ”and what cause for do” Hm, pardon?
Destroy the world? Ah. Perhaps those were the words. It was the… internalisation, and the placing the inside over the outside. To know the world, it had to be… destroyed? To label a brick as a ‘brick’, the brick must first be nihilated. No, sorry, annihilated. Silly me. What a silly mix-up— how could that have happened? If this was what ‘smashing the wheel’ meant, then that was nice, Spot knew some more words… it also provided Spot with some retrospective context so as to better understand Marie’s previous invocations of ‘the Wheel’. The Wheel was the world— or, perhaps, more widely, the Wheel was all that which existed as things-in-themselves, existing without justification and beyond perception. To see the Wheel from the side was to see more of it, and to see that it could not all be seen from a single perspective— the very movement, whether of the Wheel or the observer, demonstrated the existential link between action and perception. Yes, Spot was something aside from the Wheel— oh, and perhaps the ‘seeing it was I’ was a reference to the intersubjective development of the third existential dimension of the body…? Seeing that by which you are seen, understanding your objectification to the Other? Or perhaps…
The hot chocolate was gone now. Once again, Marie was leading somewhere. ‘Philosophical’; strange word, that. I wonder what a philosoph was.
There was a fire here, though Spot didn’t know it was called that. It excited the air around it, and just kept on consuming. These mortals looked to it like it was normal— didn’t they know it was in a constant state of consumption, respiration, combustion?— but it would, in time, either die out, or consume all of the Wheel, sucking away at it and burn the world away. Didn’t the mortals know what they had brought so close to themselves? It brandished the corpuscles of the air with its presence, forcing trades and rearrangements upon the wind. Couldn’t the mortals hear it snicker at them? Couldn’t they tell? Perhaps the race towards a highest entropy state was the point.
Spot looked at the fire entirely unreadably.
”I do not think, so I do not am.” ‘corrected’. Or perhaps it was something had read in a book? ”I am not a sort” Nor a type, nor a kind. ”the Why? of the Wheel and the Why? of sentientness.” Brief pause. ”and what cause for do” Hm, pardon?
