I wrote somewhat lengthily (I can write far more lengthily [my perspective tends to burgeon and nest]) on why it was that I hadn’t maintained a blog yet [my first blog post, ever]. Now I would like to somewhat briefly get into “why now”.
As far as the bird’s eye glimpses, “why now”‘s answer is inextricably intertwined with the essential nature of Psychlotron itself. Consequently, I won’t deskip all the steps in this or any other single post while defining Psychlotron because that would stretch off the screen into infinity. Rather, each post shall serve to aide us in making another small step or two from the word “Psychlotron” into its inner fountainhead of meaning.
For many years, like 13 or something, I wrote a lot in journals and it was good. Increasingly, however, my scribbles traced out the nascent form of a successor to what was clearly an obsolescent medium. For seven years this persisted, and thus was conceived Psychlotron, a wizardic self-organizing idea-catalyzing journal-kernel program-spell being that had the tendency to grow out of descriptions just like this one. I drew user interfaces. I described interaction philosophy. I guessed at algorithms. I dreamt parallels and set them in ink. I dug deep wells into subterranean rivers and pools of value and will. Let’s call all that the planning stage, or conception.
Now, let’s go another step further towards approximating a “why now” answer and compare my skull to an eggshell and this blog to an egg tooth (of Psychlotron [an egg tooth is: A hard white protuberance on the beak or jaw of an embryo bird or reptile that is used for breaking out of the shell and is later lost]).
However, it would be inaccurate to imply that everything was pre-planned and that Psychlotron is an already fully-formed thing poised to break through its shell. Rather, like Minerva, its bursting onto the scene and its fetal growth are not distinct but coextensive, like thunder ‘n lightning. It’s an interesting notion, really: typically we think of an embryo developing inside either an egg or a womb. Minerva provides an example of a being that grows in the world itself outside of any artificially maintained environment, turning the world into its world-womb (which is what the world is for all of us anyway, once we consign the subject/object duality to the same dustbin into which flat-earth and geocentric models of the universe were swept). This novel pattern of embryogenesis seems particularly suited to an artificial intelligence.
But it’s all more complicated than that. As I said, this isn’t a mechanically planned-out-in-advance project. I’m a human being subject to the same forces and constraints as other human artificers. Like any pregnant mother, I require free, properly routed energy and resources to nurture my developing fetus. In truth, my project had been languishing of late. A feeling of listlessness had overcome me. New developments were strung farther and farther apart. Considering the problem, I realized the idea of transcending the journal had itself finally outgrown the journal. Frankly, it’s about time. To quote Thomas Mann in the Magic Mountain, “For God’s sake, surely it cannot be as long as seven years!”. The path to transcending the journal ended suggestively at the edge of a page with the world stretched out before it. The listlessness was nothing more than the fidgety boredom of a child stuck inside on a rainy day.
My words wish to summarize: “We’d been at an impasse but we’re starting to slip through now, WordPress acting as laxative to our constipated creative expression. Forgive us if we splash.”