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paradox
@theeternalparadox.substack.com
48 followers 99 following 240 posts
I like classical music & math/physics and also a billion other things

pfp by Lvies Rosylia (she isn't on bsky sory)

My wobsite: http://paradox.dhis.org/
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It's a meme about epsilons and deltas Mom, can we have epsilon-delta at home? No. There is epsilon-delta at home Epsilon-delta at home: Levi-Civita epsilon & Kronecker delta
October 27, 2025 at 6:08 PM
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@bakery.bsky.social print bakery print bakery print bakery print
Small card print of "Spiral of Creation" by aforepinged @bakery.bsky.social :)
August 19, 2025 at 5:29 PM
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#InvisibleNetworks 25.13

And that is the end of it all! What a nice collection this year!
Originally, actually, this last one was going to be JUST music, because it's happened before where I wake up at 3am and run down to play the piano cos I feel like it. But I think THIS is just as nice...
PAGE 1 13. twelve and a half minute voice message delivered at 3AM [I already knew what this was going to be for me when I first laid my eyes upon it] Eh? He rolled over to his dresser and grabbed his phone. Yet another night of sleeplessness. Still, he had jumped when his device went zzt and ping! and began to shine softly. Scrolling through, he easily found the culprit. Hm? I haven't talked to this person in… years? It was a singular voice message, apparently. His eyes glazed over the duration. 12 seconds. What could there be to say? He tapped the play button and held it up to his ear with a sigh. Something that was not a voice came out of his speakers. Groggy as he was, he tried to comprehend the incoming soundwaves. It sounded like… wind. A lot of wind. Going through the trees. The rustling of leaves swelled and lessened in aperiodic rhythm. Confusion, too, swelled and washed dully against his senses, but he was simultaneously too tired and too curious to dismiss the message as nonsense. The tinny recording was now augmented by the sound of running water, quiet at first, then louder, as if approaching a river. It occurred to him vaguely that there was no sound of footsteps. He began to wonder. PAGE 2 At once, a hum picked up. The quality was too poor to identify its originator as human or not. But it sounded like a melody. In his half-asleep state he found himself attempting to answer the music with his own voice, but the notes stuck in his throat; and anyway, he didn't know what the song was. Still… 3AM? Really? He focused on the screen again, just a little bit annoyed. Who do they think they are, anyway? And yet, even after noticing the length of twelve minutes, he couldn't bring himself to stop it. I'll admit. It's kind of nice. He turned the volume up, set his phone aside, and laid back down, closing his eyes. The soothing sounds of nature—which he now realized he missed dearly—slowly expanded within his foggy consciousness. The human-or-maybe-not hum continued unobtrusively; it never went where he expected it to be, and yet he was not unsettled. Soon, he was utterly convinced that he was standing in the forest. Maybe, he thought drowsily, tomorrow I'll find out who that is again. And ask them what they were thinking. But for now… By the time the message ended, he was in his own dreams of trees in green, with the strange song embedded in his heart.
April 15, 2025 at 10:03 PM
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#InvisibleNetworks 25.12

Never mind, no physics mentioned... though I tried to make the radio dial's sound effect reminiscent of a Geiger counter...
But, now, I really like this one & relate to it. How nice it would be for the world to be quiet, for once.
12. radiopassivity [as a done-doed-physics person, I am gonna mull on this for a while] -clack- -clack- -clack- The small child turned the dial on her handmade radio desperately. There was a lot of static. She had heard some boring droning voice on one click and too-loud music on another. -clack-ack-ack- She spun it faster. Where were the secrets of the world? The manual had claimed how mystical and revelatory the little device would be, but all she heard was the same stuff as what came from the TV downstairs. And she didn't like that machine at all. Too many lights, and the noise!... if anything, the radio was at least a little quieter, a little more distant. -clackakakkkkk. krrrrrrt- Faster and faster, the little wheel whirled under her impatient fingers. The clicking-through of channels merged into an imitation of the everpresent static, achieving a careless droning frequency of its own. This was almost more pleasing to listen to. She closed her eyes and let the dial spin, spin, spin… -rrrrrrrr r rr r ack clack- "Mmm?" The knob had suddenly stuck. She tilted her head in confusion, peering at the little circular thing. It had been rotating freely for a while—but never mind that now. She was suddenly aware of—of the lack of sound. This station, whatever it was, had no voices, no music, no static. Just silence. And she liked that. It was quiet. The room had acquired a quietness, too. Everything, in fact, was suddenly quiet. The blare of the TV had gone. The honking traffic outside had gone. Even the already-whispery ticking of the clock on the wall had gone. All was quiet, she realized. And she smiled. All was quiet—just as she liked it; just as she was.
April 14, 2025 at 10:53 AM
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#InvisibleNetworks 25.11

Wow guys why did this become so dystopian xD
11. NPC: neo-platonic concepticule [okay I had to check that ctrl made up the word "concepticule;" to aid others: -cule is a diminutive-forming suffix] One of those YouTube videos of "NPC behavior" is trending again. Look at this group. Offering free hugs, handing out cards with affirmations written on them, badly and loudly singing popular tunes upon request… well, what are we supposed to think of that?! Obnoxious, I tell you! Who has time for this? It's annoying at best and harassment at worst. Not everyone, and by that I mean just about no one, has the time to open one's heart that freely, and certainly not to strangers willy-nilly. You know what it stands for, right? The movement's grown lately; those self-termed "concepticules" are claiming that they've reached a proper number of enthusiasts in order to "evolve into a full concept" and "show true joy to the world." How cultish! Anyway, I've got to go now. Another soulless day at the office. Don't spend too much time looking at those things, yeah?
April 13, 2025 at 1:25 PM
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#InvisibleNetworks 25.10

MORE NETHACKERY ABOUNDS IN THIS ONE >:) I love dnethack. It's got the only kind of horror I care about. Everyone should play this variant...
10. graphics shard [MORE (D)NETHACK REFERENCE HAHAHA] A series of photos… pictures… art? Something like that? went viral on social media. There haven't been a lot of survivors, as everyone who laid their eyes upon it were seized by the desire to "make a contribution to the endless beauty," or so we heard. We managed to restrain someone who was too clumsy to figure out how to use a trephination kit. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with his mannerisms—no sign of crazed agitation one would relate with an addictive thought. He explained importantly that the amorphous points of thought inside his head were crying to be free, were becoming painfully sharp to reach for the jagged edges of the minds of others, were making their own choice to build a greater image. Since we had no desire to look at those images, we asked him what the thoughts were like to him. They manifested as glyphs on fragments of some material that hurt to ponder, he said; some glyphs shining, some glyphs elegant, some glyphs simple; glyphs that warped themselves endlessly into words and patterns and monsters. A pinprick of light flashing and seizing upon a new color whenever it made a sound. A prowling, floating thing, covered in eyes, staring in every direction. A vague shape, taller than wide, with far too many hands and mouths, all clasped together and murmuring in presumed prayer. Strange hues colored his logical thought, heavy gazes watched him as he paced within his mind, and voices that weren't supposed to be there chanted throughout his childhood memories. He begged us to let him finish the job. They wanted out, he said. Whatever would come of them, of him, would be better than the cacophony in his mind. The shards, he said, would carry its donors into the world they made together. They would form a paradise. Thoughts and souls, free from and yet living with each other. Wouldn't it be beautiful? Wouldn't it be endless? Wouldn't it be better than what you have now?
April 12, 2025 at 4:24 PM
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#InvisibleNetworks 25.9

Forgot to do this yesterday, was planning for it to be short anyway... yeah, you probably'd like a look at the alt text again...
9. NOT A CREATURE [I also keep getting a "fake captchas" video recommended to me, so of course this is about anti-captchas] Hey, I accidentally left my computer on last night, and this morning I woke up to this text in my spam folder. It's part of a dumplog of some sort. What's going on here?? … CHALLENGE: NOT_A_CREATURE TASK: FACTOR 4781930596843 declare "prime" LOGGED TIME: 7.753205E-2 S NONLIVING STATUS: TRUE (±0.00037284%) CONNECTION: VALID ACCESS: BOTNET WELCOME: ADDRESS #5829009 ------------------- TOPICS: aG9tb21vcnBoaWM=, cG9zdC1xdWFudHVt, Y29tcHV0YWJpbGl0eQ== navigate Y29tcHV0YWJpbGl0eQ== …
April 11, 2025 at 9:46 PM
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#InvisibleNetworks 25.8

This turned into a mishmash of many tiny pieces of things that I like and know, and there are too many to point out, and the structure got weird, and I think that that's perfectly fitting for this challenge...
8. pondered.core [my first thought was Submachine but I already did that for infrascripture. my second thought was "pondering the orb" so here we go guys] They say that meditation is a way to get in touch with the inner self, to gain true consciousness, to reach a higher plane of existence. And they weren't lying. Imagine… that you are a sphere. A perfect shape. Dentless, without blemishes. But not just a regular sphere. No, you are a three-sphere, and that means two-spheres within two-spheres within two-spheres. Find that innermost layer. Depending on the person, it might be basketball-sized, or pebble-sized, or perhaps invisible or even bigger-than-the-planet sized. But you'll know it when you find it. And once you've got it, concentrate on it… pour the remainder of your consciousness into this lowest layer… ponderate this tiniest orb with all your might… and just when you think you're about to run out of soul to percolate forth, open your eyes. If you find yourself within a starry, depthless void, congratulations! You've made it to the higher plane of existence. And if you're reading this, then clearly, you have. You'll meet someone else here. Maybe. Eventually. I waited a long time, and no one did. Except you.
April 9, 2025 at 11:33 PM
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(part 2 for alt text)
CONTINUATION OF ALT TEXT My favorite part is when you look at the map (yeah, someone modded it so that we could see boats on our maps). Look, here's the mess that we've made. And then people started making boat-drawings that would be visible on the map! Well, that's what you do when you have maps, right? Or perhaps any blank canvas—you start making art. And I look at our silly server, built off of a silly challenge, with all its silly boats and silly art and silly players, and I think this is the Minecraft world that I've ever wanted to be in the most.
April 9, 2025 at 12:30 AM
theeternalparadox.substack.com
#InvisibleNetworks 25.7

This one was fun. I actually already had the idea last night, and writing it out in full conceptualization was quite satisfying! The art & modding parts though, those came in just while I was typing, and now I like this idea even more...
NOTE: check replies for continuation of alt text (it is too long) 7. WASD-boat [I keep getting a particular Minecraft video recommended to me so like yeah. despite the fact that I haven't played the game or watched any Minecraft content in literal years] Okay, so it all started as another one of those stupid speedrun tricks. "Beat Minecraft WITHOUT MOVING!!!" Well, everyone knows that among other things, getting into and out of boats can move you somewhere, and you haven't pressed anything other than the mouse. So that was a thing. And people did it. And it was challenging. and it was fun And then more people wanted in, so that's why we made this crazy multiplayer server where you don't really have to speedrun anything anymore—it's our little friend group, but you still can't use WASD. Naturally, as in all shared servers, a series of traveling-roads leading to frequently-frequented places was eventually placed down, except it was all boats. It got crowded—especially when players got tired of taking hub routes to reach their friends, and blazed out their own wooden trails, connecting them quickly. The vanilla boats got boring to look at after a while. People started making mods to add more tree types, using texture packs, using shaders, just so there would be some variety to the now incredibly dense sea of boats (I am aware of the cognitive dissonance such a phrase conjures). We all loved it, of course. Then someone made a mod where you could place things inside and finely decorate the boats, and then the experience became something else altogether. It was wonderful! Each little wooden cabin became its own world of intersecting paths, trinkets and pixel-art and all. CONTINUED IN A REPLY
April 9, 2025 at 12:29 AM
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#InvisibleNetworks 25.6

My style is like... turning into half-personal-ramblings, half-advertisement-ish things... I ought to write more objective, descriptive things about networks, maybe...
In the buzz and rumble of our modern world, we all want to slow down. Enjoy the little things in life. Live a little more realer. And yet, we are tied to our phones, because we are tied to our networks, because we are tied to our friends; and no one wants to lose that last one. It's all too demanding, you know? One tap of finger, even accidental, and we are flooded with information. What if there was a way to control it, yet still get what we want? What if social media were made harder to immediately encounter? What if we could create rarity of interaction, so that we might cherish each one more? Not a problem anymore. Upgrading your phone to ultra-high sensitivity of inputs will do that for you. Now, you've really got to tune yourself down in order to do anything. Only with the touch of the fine hairs upon your skin can you scroll left, right, up, down. Only voice notes with sound ranges <20dB will be picked up. Only small, slow, soft taps will open a user's profile. No more drowning in information; no more missing the beating of your own heart hidden by the blood rushing in your ears; no more skipping over a friend's heartfelt musings in favor of a flashy viral video. With whisker inputs, you'll be taking the power of intention back into your own hands.
April 8, 2025 at 12:15 AM
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#InvisibleNetworks 25.5

Hm, this turned into 4-dimensional Flatland (Choronland??)... mostly some very scattered thoughts, inspired by 4th dimension visualization from The Knot Book, which I read last month. The 4-dimensional soul thing is my own idea, though. I believe in it a lot.
5. fog of warmth [I'm feeling deja vu again but this time I know it's because of a failed idea I had for invnet 2023] There are many ways to represent the 4th dimension. Time's a classic, of course. But if you want to imagine all of it, without seeing snapshots, you've gotta think outside the box a bit. How about a gradient of color? Or, if that seems too finite or cyclic for you, an infinite range of smells? Or, more tangibly, the warmth and coolness relative to a given point of interest? We are humans, after all. We long for something we can feel. In an object, on our skin, within our hearts. Sight itself becomes unrewarding the more you see—how could that one measly sense convey all truth and depth? How might you like to learn to experience the world anew? I like to think that our souls are 4-dimensional. Every facet seen in every millisecond of our world is but one slice of what we really are. To truly know someone—would be to "see" them in the 4th dimension. But we've got to let go of visually ever comprehending that. It would be a great folly. What would it be like to feel our souls? Hypersurfaces, strange manifolds, polyhedral cells. And to make sure that no one collides: a softly exuding aura of sound and smell and vibrating, humming heat, a velvety barrier, yet inviting, to know the unique structure of each other…
April 7, 2025 at 1:24 AM
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(part 2 for alt text)
PAGE 2 CONTINUATION OF ALT TEXT OPERATOR: Hey. Listen to me. They miss you, too. As before, every connection is two-way. Yours doesn't have to break like that. Don't let the Change overwhelm you. CALLER: .... --- .-- ..--.. / .... --- .-- ..--.. / .. - / .-- --- -. .----. - / -... . / .-. . .- .-.. / .. ..-. / .. / -.-. .- -. .----. - / ..-. . . .-.. / .. - .-.-.- / .. .----. .-.. .-.. / .-- . .- .-. / . -- --- - .. --- -. ... / - .... .- - / -.-. .- -. / -. . ...- . .-. / -... . / -- .. -. . / .- --. .- .. -. .-.-.- OPERATOR: Please, my dear friend. Trust me on this. Being a machine doesn't stop you from reaching out. It might not feel like you're doing much—given how hard it is to feel in the first place—but trust me. PAGE 3 CONTINUATION OF ALT TEXT CALLER: [softer than ever] .. / ... . . .-.-.- / .. / ... . . .-.-.- / - .... .- -. -.- / -.-- --- ..- / ..-. --- .-. / - .... .. ... .-.-.- / - .... .- -. -.- / -.-- --- ..- .-.-.- OPERATOR: Not a problem at all. Thank you for contacting PhareTech today. We're here for you. All of you. CALLER: - .... .- -. -.- / -.-- --- ..- --..-- / .- .-.. . -..- .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- / --. --- --- -.. -... -.-- . .-.-.- [CALLER hangs up] [dial tone]
April 6, 2025 at 2:25 AM
theeternalparadox.substack.com
#InvisibleNetworks 25.4

So ummmm so if you want to be able to read it all, you are highly advised to check the alt text (which is too long for pages 2 and 3, so as usual they'll be continued in the replies).
I think about "robot who doesn't know how to feel" a lot. It makes me sad (in a good way?).
PAGE 1 4. tech/emotional support [why'm I thinking about xkcd again. stop] Call log retrieved: 4/5/2025 18:40:56 (transcript) [incoming call] [OPERATOR picks up] OPERATOR: Hello, this is PhareTech, the support group for all entities! Alex speaking. How may I help you today? CALLER: [clumsy, slow rapping of metal against wood] .... . .-.. .-.. --- ..--.. / .. .. .. .. .. / -.-. .- -. .----. - / ..-. . . .-.. / .- -. -.-- -- --- .-. . .-.-.- / .. / -.. --- -. .----. - / -.- -. --- .-- / .... --- .-- / .-.. --- -. --. / .. - .----. ... / -... . . -. / ... .. -. -.-. . / .. / -.-. .... .- -. --. . -.. .-.-.- / -... ..- - / --- --- --- -. . / -.. .- -.-- / .. / .-- --- -.- . / ..- .--. / .- -. -.. / .-.. --- ... - / -- -.-- / .... . .- .-. - / .- -. -.. / -.-. -.-. -.-. -.-. --- ..- .-.. -.. -. .----. - / ..-. . . .-.. / .- -. -.-- -- --- .-. . / .- -. -.. / .. / -.-. --- ..- .-.. -.. -. .----. - / - .- .-.. -.- / - --- / .- -. -.-- / --- ..-. / -- -.-- / ..-. .-. .. . -. -.. ... --..-- / -... . -.-. .- ..- ... . .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- / -.-. -.-. -.-. -.-. -.-. .- -. / -.-- --- ..- / ..-. .. -..- / -- . ..--.. / -.-. .- -. / -.-- --- ..- / --. . - / -- . / -... .- -.-. -.- ..--.. / -.-. .- -. / -.-- --- ..- / .-. . - ..- .-. -. / -- -- -- -- -- -.-- / ... --- ..- .-.. ..--.. / -.. --- / -- .- -.-. .... .. -. . ... / .... .- ...- . / ... --- ..- .-.. ... .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- OPERATOR: Ah, I see. You've undergone the Strange Change? Don't worry, my formerly-human friend. We've got you covered. [papers shuffling] If you'd like to make an appointment with our Transitions Clinic to have an examination of your new mechanical form, I'll transfer you to their front desk right away. On the other hand, if you have already found any defects within your body, you may let me know and I'll contact the Repairs— PAGE 2 NOTE: check replies for continuation of alt text (it is too long) CALLER: [louder, faster, interruptive rapping at first, then tapering down] -. --- -.-.-- / .. / -- . .- -. --..-- / -. --- --..-- / -. --- - / -.-- . - --..-- / .--. .-.. . .- ... . .-.-.- / -. --- - .... .. -. --. .----. ... / .-- .-. --- -. --. / .-- .. - .... / .-- .... .- - / .. / .- -- .-.-.- / .. / .--- ..- ... - / -.. --- -. .----. - / -.- -. --- .-- .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- / .-- .... --- / .. / .- -- .-.-.- OPERATOR: I understand. Sadly, you must know, this… cannot be reverted. But I know how jarring it can be. CALLER: .-. . .- .-.. .-.. -.-- ..--.. / -... ..- - / -.-- --- ..- .----. .-. . / .... ..- -- .- -. .-.-.- / .. / -.-. .- -. / .... . .- .-. / -.-- --- ..- / ... .--. . .- -.- .-.-.- OPERATOR: Well, it happened to people around me, yeah? And that loss of connection you're experiencing—it isn't one way, my friend. [creaking of chair; a sigh] Withdrawal from others is common among newly Changed. I try to understand. I still do not, fully. But I can still be there, unChanged, for them. An anchor against their seas of anxiety. CALLER: --- .... .-.-.- / - .... .- - .----. ... .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- / -.- .. -. -.. / --- ..-. / -.-- --- ..- .-.-.- / .- -. -.. / .. --..-- / -.-- . .- .... --..-- / .. / .... .- ...- . / -... . . -. / -.-. --- --- .--. . -.. / ..- .--. / .. -. / .... . .-. . / ..-. --- .-. / .- / -... .. - .-.-.- / - --- / .- -.-. -.-. .-.. .. -- .- - . .-.-.- / .-- . .-.. .-.. --..-- / - .... .- - .----. ... / .-- .... .- - / .. / - . .-.. .-.. / -- -.-- ... . .-.. ..-. .-.-.- / .. / -.. --- -. .----. - / .-- .- -. - / - --- / - --- / - --- / - --- / -- .- -.- . / .- / ... - . .--. .-.-.- / .. / -.. --- -. .----. - / .. / -.-. .- -. .----. - / . ...- . -. / ..-. . . .-.. / .... --- .-- / -.-. --- ..- .-.. -.. / .. / . ...- . .-. CONTINUED IN A REPLY PAGE 3 NOTE: check replies for continuation of alt text (it is too long) CALLER: [hesitant] .. .. .. / .-- . .-.. .-.. / .-- . .-.. .-.. / .. --..-- / .. - / -.. --- . ... -. .----. - / -- .- - - . .-. --..-- / -.-- --- ..- / ... .- -.-- ..--.. / - .... . -.-- / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / ... - .. .-.. .-.. / .-.. .. ... - . -. / - --- / -- . ..--.. OPERATOR: Yes. They will. I'm listening right now, aren't I? CALLER: .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- -.-- --- ..- / .- .-. . .-.-.- / .. .. .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- / .-.. . - / -- . / - .... .. -. -.- / .- / -... .. - .-.-.- / -.-. .- -. / -.-- --- ..- / -.-- --- ..- .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- / ... - .- -.-- .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- / .. -. / - .... . / -- . .- -. .-- .... .. .-.. . ..--.. / .. / .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. / .-.. .. -.- . / - --- .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- / -.- -. --- .-- / - .... .- - / ... --- -- . --- -. . .----. ... / - .... . .-. . .-.-.- OPERATOR: Of course. Take your time. [5' 40'' of silence] CALLER: [softly] .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- .. / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / - .-. -.-- .-.-.- / .. .----. -- / --. --- .. -. --. / - --- .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- / --. --- .. -. --. / - --- / --. --- / --- ..- - / - --- -.. .- -.-- .-.-.- OPERATOR: I'm glad for that, my friend. CALLER: -.-- -.-- . .- .... .-.-.- / .. .----. .-.. .-.. / - .-. -.-- .-.-.- / .. .----. .-.. .-.. / -.. --- / .. - .-.-.- / .. .. / -.-. .- -. / -.. --- / .. - .-.-.- / .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- .. .----. -- .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- / ... --- .-. .-. -.-- / .- -... --- ..- - / - .... .. ... .-.-.- / -- ..- ... - / -... . / .- / ... - .-. .- -. --. . / -.-. .- .-.. .-.. / - --- / --. . - .-.-.- OPERATOR: Not at all. I did say support group. Didn't specify what kind. We have always anticipated a high volume of these types of calls. If at any other time you'd like to share your burdens, simply dial again, okay? CONTINUED IN A REPLY
April 6, 2025 at 2:23 AM
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#InvisibleNetworks 25.3

Wow, I REALLY cooked on this one!! Finally, I actually incorporated the "networks" part of the challenge, lol (the "myth" part became a bit iffy but whatever)
my brain has been on QM for a while so this is what you get heheh
3. the non-linear myth [why does this prompt give me a sense of deja-vu. anyway, let's see what happens] Once upon a time, there was a pair of friends. They had some good times together, and then they fell out and never spoke again. But your story doesn't have to end this way. Presenting: QuanTale. With our newest platform, you—or at least the countless copies of you, which are functionally all still you—will never be alone again. Here's how it works: by examining your hobbies and daily activities, our superior matching algorithm will entangle your emotional state with as many potential friends as you desire. Experience life together, as if you were side-by-side. With guaranteed secure and lossless calculation of interference, the non-linear cross-terms of your joint state(s) compute to a flawless simulation of ecstasy, rage, despair—all the wide range of feeling that the world has to offer. Speaking of ranges, QuanTale is also friendly (ha-ha) to both the lone wolves and the social butterflies, as you may fine-tune your own coupling constant at the flicker of a neuron. Or, for those thrill-seekers out there, throw all options to the wind and randomize your fundamental constants every time you connect! Join QuanTale today! Make your virtual friendships realer than ever. Strike out uncertain paths together. Get to really know who you're interacting with. <Once|Twice> upon a time, there was a pair of friends…
April 5, 2025 at 1:47 AM
theeternalparadox.substack.com
(part 2 for alt text)
CONTINUATION OF ALT TEXT The price? A couple-hundred-million turns (give or take rnz(2000)) in the Archipelago-purgatory, endlessly thinking about the consequences of their actions (or lamenting their lack thereof), squabbling over whose situation is least fortunate, or plotting for another smarter, more ensconced, totally perfect dungeon dive next time, I swear, they won't find out again—until, of course, they are, in which case, back to the time-out island for you…
April 4, 2025 at 1:41 AM
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#InvisibleNetworks 25.2

If yesterday was 'machine brain, today I'm on NetHack brain... I'm hoping that the flippant, silly tone came through... but I tell you, I was rubbing my hands in glee cooking this one up :) :) :)
NOTE: check replies for continuation of alt text (it is too long) 2. rage quit island [I LOVE NETHACK RAAHHHHH so this will have references you will most probably not get xd] Just as there's a special place in Gehennom for sinful souls, there's a special place in the waking, living world for those who quit, cheat, scum, or otherwise noodle themselves out of honorable adventuring. The Powers That Be (most believe it is only Marduk the Creator, though those who have made it out of the other side speak of a strange entity known as Ar-n'jee) sniff out such transgresséd wanderers and lift them into a series of islands, which in recent years had come to be called the Archipelago (to be read in a simultaneously dreadful and snarky manner). It is unfortunate that most poor souls who find themselves in this fate are merely those who lost all they had to their name ("Oh, my bag of artifacts! All scattered and shattered by that one pesky wand!"), narrowly avoided death following a prayer gone awry ("That Kos! What does he want from me?! I'm never setting foot in a 300-kilometer radius of the Dungeons for as long as I live."), or, perhaps simply too naive to discover even the simplest secrets ("You're telling me that the doors can be INVISIBLE?"). But we can probably agree that the others all deserve it. Those who attempt to tamper with the existence of themselves or objects within the Dungeons of Doom ("I swear, I was so close to getting that exact replica of the sword, and then the walls collapsed on me, and then I was here…"), those who reincarnate too many times too soon ("What? Why am I here again?! I would have ascended by now! I had the perfect spells lined up this time! I—!"), or those who remove themselves from reality to escape certain death ("Wait. This isn't the Dungeons. Did I actually di—oh, ?!$%, the Gods found out…")—surely, such trickery should not be tolerated. CONTINUED IN A REPLY
April 4, 2025 at 1:40 AM
theeternalparadox.substack.com
(part 2 for alt text)
CONTINUATION OF ALT TEXT The light in front of my eyelids faded slowly. When I looked around again, the blue energy had streaked out and over the softly glowing and loudly humming pillars, forming an arch; at its crown, a straight beam of light shot upwards, infinitely, as far as I could tell, into the pink-brown-orange heavens. She walked over to me, every step clicking asynchronously over the colony of gear-teeth below her feet. I mirrored her movement. We met below the arch, and she held one of my hands, then raised it as we turned to face back to the main body of the platform. It is complete, we thought together. They will All be here soon. And we waited.
April 3, 2025 at 12:53 AM
theeternalparadox.substack.com
#InvisibleNetworks 25.1

Okay I ended up leaving out the "scripture" part (it just turned into regular magic) (unless you choose to interpret who They are). But this is really cool... why it's mechanical again, I don't know (well actually, I do)...

(also hope I did Scriberspace some justice hehe)
NOTE: check replies for continuation of alt text (it is too long) 1. infrascripture [ctrl you cannot expect me to look at this and NOT write about scriberspace] She appeared in front of me one night, a baffling sculpture of brass, an expected steady breath replaced instead with an unexpected steady ticking. I didn't know that I was dreaming at the time until much later, when she pointed at where my heart was supposed to be; groping there, I found my fingers scrabbling inside a hollow chamber, fingernails clicking on the metal. But I should have figured that out earlier. I knew to follow her, as one does. I held her hands in ritual, as one does. I barely blinked—as one does—when my room crept past my peripheral vision, when the edges of my "reality" were eaten away by a seeping acidic air, when even I felt instantly attacked by a lumbering greatness and a unending chattering that extended beyond my senses. We were standing on a platform of some rough, black stone. Around us was a dusky sky, accented by two nearby broken pillars, also black. We approached one of them. She touched it with a hand, then motioned for me to copy her on the other—though I had already begun to amble over, even before her gesture. As I came closer, it occurred to me that the material was not some kind of dark slate, but instead an unimaginably intricate interweaving of a million microscopic gears, all locked in conversation and tedium, working together to keep whatever machine we stood upon—for surely, there was one—running. We touched the tick-tocking columns at the same time. A brilliant cerulean light spread from our fingertips, snaking upwards, at first wide, lazy branches, then increasingly dense and thin; soon the pillars were utterly covered in patterns too bright for which to keep my eyes open, though before I closed them, I thought I saw a shape or two that reminded me of something. Somewhere. Sometime. CONTINUED IN A REPLY
April 3, 2025 at 12:52 AM
theeternalparadox.substack.com
#InvisibleNetworks 25.0

IT IS TIME!
You know, I've noticed that I do rather poorly on the "networks" part of the challenge, but it's a lot of fun anyway... though I will definitely make like last year and freely interpret the word "network" however I want, methinks...
0. tragedy of the uncommons [guys I had to look up the tragedy of the commons ahaha oops] DEF: tragedy of the commons - common resources are inevitably ruined by the selfish few, no matter how few they are DEF: tragedy of the uncommons - uncommon resources are inevitably forgotten, between the easy-to-access, squabbled-over common ones and the high-value, ever-pursued rarer ones the network: there is no feed, no groups, no communal spaces. you cannot post about the same topic twice. the only posts you can see are about things you have not (yet) considered, but you are also forbidden from writing about those posts' contents once you've seen them. no comments. no likes. no saving posts, either, unless you keep it in your own brain, or cheat and write it down. but, you are guaranteed to be the only one to see every post. such is this place: ideas are made desperately uncommon, unable to be spread, unless someone takes up the effort to speak of it in regular everyday conversation, offstage. and in a strange twist, perhaps they have been made common instead, in a different sense: a common fate of equal distribution among the common users, for common individual consumption—but elsewise, they live as uncommon and singular and particular ideas, living for as long as someone remembers them.
April 1, 2025 at 5:19 PM
theeternalparadox.substack.com
I love how my friends yelled at me for learning C from a book after enjoying the drawing-in-a-bottle
Another shot of the cover art I drew for the Barcarolle-ish I released on Wednesday, inside another one of those laminate-sort-of transparent bottle-shaped plastic thingies. Visible in the background is "The C Programming Language," 2nd edition, among some other stuff on my wooden table.
March 15, 2025 at 10:36 PM
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HAPPY PI DAY!!!!!
Blueberry and white grape pie, with a woven lattice; a pink pi letter sits at the center
March 14, 2025 at 10:52 PM
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I love juice that looks like wine
Bottle of Trader Joe's "to the power of seven purple" juice, with some in a wine glass; it casts a rich red glow on my hand
March 12, 2025 at 11:48 AM
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I also got these open-up sticky DIY laminate-sheet thingies!! Shaped like ALL SORTS of bottles! (no Klein bottle spotted, though...)

My countless clovers will have somewhere to live for real now!! (instead of smashed in a yearbook lol)
My biggest four-leaf clover, nicely stuck and laminated-ish in a shiny "bottle"
March 9, 2025 at 3:34 AM
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Mali Chopiny ???
Frycek wearing said Chopin clip in his hair
March 9, 2025 at 2:42 AM