A Day Amongst the Infrastructure

Tomorrow is a travel day for this blogger, and I am looking forward to my entrance into the vast organelles of our Earth-amoeba. Dodging vacuoles, marvelling at cholorplasts, I plan to jet through the cytoplasm of the U.S. via microtubules, landing in a few hours time at the center of the cogni-nucleus, Mr. New York City (that's right, a return!). Shuttle buses, highways, airports, the atmosphere, more airports, more shuttles and highways and trams and trollies and sidewalks and etcetera: was any of this here 100 years ago? I think not.

Whorecull wrote a rave-tastic post the other day about the pioneering efforts we bloggers are making in the exploration of new realities, at least until the crypto-corpies and pentagonal control droids spoil the fun. Cull:

Every spare moment we're at it, positing alternative realities and visions of a better future by night while working as wage slaves in the day. This inquiry is directed mostly at the webmasters and the bloggers, but it is relevant to where they connect with those who make art or play and perform music, or promote these and other artforms, in their own micro scenes, content to cultivate not accumulate.

Cultivate, not accumulate. What if every city adopted this as their motto, what if every citizen deemed themselves a blogger working in the mediums of poured cement, carpool lanes, and monorails? What if building one's own private infrastructure, part of a web criss-crossing the planet of everyone else's infrastructure, was as cheap as owning a cell phone or calling collect? What if, what if.

And so I travel, joining the jet set within the empire of signs, returning to the city from which one never leaves (as I've speculated before, fractally-speaking, NYC is bigger than the rest of the United States combined, and to flip the old adage: there are a million naked cities in this one big story.) And the links and URLs and tags I've linked and accumulated and grown and farmed travel with me, yet ever they stay the same, a permanent habit in the Earth amoeba's cortex. And here I am, a mighty blood cell in need of too much coffee, young in years and dressed in jeans, surveying the surface of the (inter)national brainscape from the comfort of my free winged Blogger account, capsizing the old ways of thinking linearly with my jumbled to/fro Rise of Nations adage-spazz across the interior continent, never to be more blissed out again in quite the same way, yet spinning off para-galaxies and rugged cogni-lifeforms like a Cambrian Chain-Reactor whips out new strains of Jurassic coral.

Spitting in the oceans, drinking liquid fuel as it runs off the gangplanks of the whorl-D, webbing like a New Tide diving into the cess pools of the tired minds writhing for the stimulating tongue of the divine transit-wind, I creak my neck back to take in the vast skyscrapers which exist within and in me, my liver and my heart and my lung and my bones joyfully nailing themselves to the cross of the world as it sinks and I float...

See you soon.

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