Monday, July 22, 2013
topology, tropology, who do you love?
In middle school, I “discovered” with a drawn circle, given points put uniformly all around it (10º apart, let’s say), that connecting each point to every other point caused a pretty, symmetrical pattern (like a cathedral window) that tended to show circles within itself emerging from the intersections of all the lines connecting every point on the periphery with every other point, circles emergent within circles within the beginning circle, because the symmetry of intersections was subcircular. (The more points on the initial circle, the more emergent circles-within-circles that are rendered by the symmetry of intersecting lines—the more horizons within horizons, relative to a virtual, circular center, smaller and smaller, the more lines there are from the more points there are.) For a 12 year-old, still bothered by having his 8 year-old question to mommy, “Where is God?,” answered senselessly by “Everywhere, dear,” the fascination I found with constructing things in an ultimately senseless world felt insatiable, thus endless (though I probably didn’t yet use ‘ultimately’ and ‘insatiable’ for feelings of wonder and capability).
Such patterning wasn’t like seeing multiple points connect to a shared base point recursively, like a tree or intricate fluff on a dandelion stalk—or like the bushy nature of biological genera (or the structure of the Internet , logically simple, but recursively inestimable , like genomic expression become organism)—no, rather, the cathedralic symmetry, horizons within horizons, was emblematic of some slice of everything connecting with everything else (and emergent horizons: the spirit of the thing—really, the “nature” of geometric thinging), though the pubescent couldn’t comprehend it as a slice in time (like eonically ecological Gaia). It was just what it was: a flat window into emergent self-formativity.
Imagine an Internet topology—an inestimable flourishing of networking recursions—folding and weaving into itself (a topogenomic introversion). Imagine the possible pointillism of thoughts brought into inestimable mirrorplays of revery. Imagine there is for real some kind of isomorphicity in the emergence of interplaying minds from the netweave of lived time born from the eonic legacy of bushy life born from the cloudy crystallizing of everywhere unwittingly bearing here born of Gaic life eonically bearing comprehensibility (not to imply that mind is explainable by neurogenesis as such).
Anyway…. I’ve made graphical headers for two “old” blogs, “mind evolving” and “our evolving.” [The content of passed years’ “mind” was moved to the “evolving” blog, mid-2017.] “Mind” will go its own way (more like “conceptual prospecting,” which won’t get a graphic header), and post-Habermasian evolving will continue its way. (By the way, I have an explanation for the odd “evolving” header.)
I imagine the pointillism of each blog—and all my earlier gardening—growing way beyond those years into topo-tropological intimacy so far unknown, weaving together in emergent ways I’ll realize, maybe even well design to render.
-- gary e. davis --- 12:02 AM