La Zone
La Zone - Un peu de brute dans un monde de finesse
Publication de textes sombres, débiles, violents.
 
 

Maintenance mon cul

Démarré par Glaüx, Février 20, 2006, 13:00:07

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lapinchien

je pense que Glaüx devrait cramer son PC pour la saint Con

Glaüx

L'inverse est vrai aussi. En fait on va faire un suicide collectif des objets de mon appart', moi compris.

Dourak Smerdiakov

#47
Tout ce que je sais, c'est que j'ai remplacé la page d'index dans la nuit du 31/01/06 au 01/02/06 à 00:27.

Je n'ai touché qu'à celà, et à rien d'autre. Le but était d'avoir du xhtml correct au moins pour la page d'index ( http://validator.w3.org/check?uri=http%3A%2F%2Fzone%2Eapinc%2Eorg ).

A noter que l'ancienne page d'index avait une extension ".html", et que la nouvelle a une extension ".php" (pas de raison que ça pose problème, sauf si ton marque-page pointait sur "index.html" ).
Pour le débat citoyen et convivial dans le respect indivisiblement démocratique de la diversité multi-culturelle des valeurs républicaines oecuméniques.

Glaüx

J'en sais rien, mais en tout cas, depuis ce matin, tout fonctionne comme sur des roulettes.


Je te dois une boutanche de blanc d'Alsace, à moins que ça replante, auquel cas je la garderai pour l'utiliser contre et dans le postérieur des descendants des concepteurs des ordinateurs. Parce qu'avec un boulier, ça serait jamais arrivé.

lapinchien

c'est Dourak qu'a foutu des roulettes à la Zone ?

Glaüx

Il a fait un site pour admin handicapé comme on fait des fauteuils à roulettes.

C'est grand, c'est beau, c'est moral.

Dourak Smerdiakov

J'ai juste mis des majuscules en minuscules, entourés des attributs de doubles guillemets, et fermé des balises. Sur une page de 10-15 lignes. C'était inénarrable.
Pour le débat citoyen et convivial dans le respect indivisiblement démocratique de la diversité multi-culturelle des valeurs républicaines oecuméniques.

lapinchien

Inénnarable, vous savez quoi, çà a failli être le titre de Digressions fractales... finalement je l'ai pas gardé çà faisait trop pompeux... mais çà aurait pu s'appeler "Illisible" çà aurait été un bon compromis

Dourak Smerdiakov

Tu aurais dû le traduire du limba romana (ce idee sublima!), aussi.
Pour le débat citoyen et convivial dans le respect indivisiblement démocratique de la diversité multi-culturelle des valeurs républicaines oecuméniques.

lapinchien

Digressions fractales (1/4)
17/07/2004
by Lapinchien


Priority 3: The thinker

In the darkness of a tunnel to the wet and palpitating walls, with the turning of a decorated cutaneous neck of fat pores lubricating by places of immense prolonged mucous carpets of tortuous pits covered with fleeces of roughcast hairs, the raucous noise of soufflements alternates inlassablement with the failing sound of inspirations. In this gigantic cave, marbled bubbling veins, constellated with discontinuous asperities and small tumoral aggregates, resound of the regular beats coming from a membrane sweating of a translucent appendix, a cytoplasmic pocket blanchâtre beading of an opening which contracts and is loosened, hidden in a folded up cavity. The bag is balanced from top to bottom and makes undulate the whole of the skin of the vault by jolts. With each jerk, large squirted haemoglobin emerging of the opening, streams on the membrane and agglomerates in small puddle pools in the cells of the ground. The placenta ends up falling heavily in a rut where blood splashes. Long egg albumin filaments connect egg to the opening which coughs spasmodiquement this viscous liquid, taken of a sudden attack epileptic which is propagated by waves in all the remainder of the tunnel. A trembling hand takes shape when it tightens the fine placental film. It ends up boring and tearing the pocket. A being leaves there to the anguish, with sorrow and determination. It is an adult, an adult woman who lowers herself on a movable ground which is caught convulsions. It is ballottée in all the directions by the bowel which contorsionne of pain. Itself suffocates and vomits placental liquid. It does not manage to breathe, and seeks air frantically while gesticulant. Its eyes counterirritated sounds, it sees nothing there and awkwardly tries to rise but falls with each attempt, slipping on the moist skin of the tube whitewashed of secretions. Its naked body trails the placenta while trying to flee and sudden it stumbles on its own umbilical cord, loses balance and fall through valvule which it did not notice. But its fall is short... It is smelled curtly retained by this long tended cord which was gotten mixed up higher around a protuberance of the bowel. The woman suffers awfully but can now breathe in this ventilated and filtered neck of a reddish light. One courrant of nauseous air makes him take again its spirits. She pushes a cry of fright, not which she has fear of the vacuum under her feet but because she sees her proéminant belly and curvature. She is pregnant and remembers:


"All was played in advance... For a long time we veiled ourselves the face. Us remeltings to return to us to the obviousness... We however had in hand all the charts, all the parts of the puzzle, all the undeniable evidence that Humanity was not viable, that it would finish one day or the other by péricliter and to disappear... We are so to speak still-born children, asphyxiated tares and defects. Our existence, fortuitous and inevitable - intrinsic characters and fundamental properties common to existing in the broad sense - will not have had of another similar singularity to its magnificence - of which we were only and single privileged witnesses, it should well be conceded - which its transitory and poor insignificance... "

It hardly has just been born but the assembly, the connector industry of the synapses and the dendritic flowering of its neurons, are those of a person of about thirty years. They méticuleusement seem to have been worked so that to be it can in an innate way face its reality. It of it is conscious, and that the intrigue, that excites it, so much so that it forgets of it the imminent danger which it guète. Automatically it intertwines full with love its round and hot belly and feels the life to beat in it. Insane of joy and impatience, it replonge in its marvellous thoughts, this memory which does not belong to him, this heritage which it is in a hurry to encircle, to quantify and use:

"We are the fruit of a paranoiac Process, an algorithm which seeks to solve a problem which exceeds it... We became an assumption of work, a track of reflexion, a tough and persistent anguish... an assumption in a pile of assumptions confronted between them with an only aim of cancelling itself, to be eliminated the ones the others... In what concerns us, the Process finally found the rest... We were only one benign disorder and it will have is enough only to one attack for driving back us forever... "

The viscous cord is disentangled and the woman slips by stages. She does not even notice it and continues her analysis:

"I remember, pale of shame, our naivety, our virginal frankness when with the end of the second millenium we assisted impotent - and it would rather be necessary to say passive even idiotic sometimes amazed, sometimes ignares, uncultivated or worse, without the least consideration, contemptuously autists - with arrived of the messengers who announced, in manner relentless and mechanics, our nearest eradication. Some among us had observed the phenomenon, of the "astronomers", the "initiates". These providential receivers believed to have to make so that they had catalogued as "the fall of a comet split up on Jupiter". They modestly gave their name, "Shoemaker-Levy", with this demonstration to which we assisted for the first and last time "

Million unknown and yet however familiar images attack the spirit of the woman by successive flashes. She does not feel the cord to crack in several points, and remains hung, by her tended belly, like a désarticulé puppet, arm and legs drawn aside out of star now. The ascending draughts make it pitch in all the directions and its head runs up against on several occasions the walls of the puit upholstered cellular bearings deadening the shocks. It despized its reality, captive agreeing of its thoughts:

"All is information in the Process, all is incredibly simple there actually, the some either cut, the some or scale or the projection which is made by it, all can be easily classified in two dual categories: Bosons and Fermions, flow and data, vectors and points, mediators and réactants, forces and matters. All is only action and reaction. The predictibility does not exist there, it is only one illusion there. The Process is an arborescent iterative calculation in progress, it is stupid to want to anticipate the exit of the interior of it... It uses already the optimal cycles of resolution... An assumption which takes for search to predict the exit of the Process is unrelentingly dedicated to the failure, because the expression of this search engages, with the centre even Process, an infinity of new tasks which will be carried out in parallel, each one of them disturbing to become it that they seek to elucidate, being transformed into disturbances and vortex, under-algorithms of the algorithm. Any attempt at comprehension is useless because it enriches complexity and the incomprehensible character by the Whole. The length of the iterations of these extrapolations condemned by advance to fail could ideally only tender towards the limiting length of the infinitesimal iterations of the Process. It would be necessary to be able to exceed this absolute frequency of reasoning to be able "to see beyond", which is by impossible definition "

Groggy, the woman emerges... She brutally feels multiple pains in all her body and loses herself in a long rail. The child whom it carries tambourine like protesting. She is covered with hématomes and includes/understands, by looking at the sky, which she survived a fall of several tens of meters. She is now on a cornice overhanging an underground lake bubbling of gastric juices. The air is saturated with the gas emanations of the lake. The woman feels her skin attacked by ambient acidity. She fights against this atrocious pain which prevents it from concentrating but nothing tries to flee. It does not seem y to have any loophole around her and much more voluntary than resigned she sinks in a welcome coma. She finds there the discussion thread of her memories:

"To anticipate and include/understand... Not only this type of search is useless, but moreover, it delays the Process in its mysterious and frantic reflexion. This last was naturally equipped with mechanisms of defence: laws of regulation are used to eliminate any inopportune monopolization from cycles as calculation. Humanity was one of these sterile convolutions of which the Process could occur. Our loss is paradoxically related to our potential of single reasoning, with our exceptional aptitude, for an assumption, to observe, explore, analyze.... It was obviously stupid to waste cycles in this curious introspection, this obsessing handing-over of cause which Humanity incarnated. Our existence set up recursive functions whose dangerosity went exponentially increasing progressively with our survival "Shoemaker-Levy" that we took for a comet was in fact a Terminating Boson, a messenger carrying a missive heralding our programmed end. It sowed Jupiter which we however believe unfertile. An assumption started to germinate there without we having a presentiment of it, an assumption charged to cancel us, the by-effect of our existence even, one of our antitheses. It A is enough only to one hundred years in Jupiter to give birth to the enemy. During all these cycles, we drowsed, well too occupied by our small sub-hypothetical confrontations to notice the colonization of the gas giantess so near and so remote. We encountered our own limits all this century during, those same which inconvenienced the Process: Our doubts recurring, our thought delirious, our fear irrational, which multiplied by the cardinal of our population, never so many, locally saturated the Process and generated internal scissions with the strong consensus that Humanity had represented a long time, us making more vulnerable in fact. Our imagination without terminals caused the inopportune emergence of very complex oneiric Universes to the centre of the Process whose duty is to digest very new track of reflexion given birth to by the system, by us enters others: each one of our new ideas thus was the subject of modelings, big-bangs and big-crunchs beyond our dimensions, the systematic practical applications of the Process testing the viability of our theories increasingly tough and consuming cycles, increasingly residual and less and less cancelled and eliminated. It was necessary that cease all this pollution primarily generated to feed our dreams and to project images of these parallel realities in our heads. The Process was known about the bad way, it was also smelled to lose capacity as of the moment when we had started to dictate the essence of its intuitions to him... "

The ground trembles of more beautiful... The woman opens the eyes and attends gigantic crumblings of mucus cluster. They explode in a deaf noise by impacting the lake of acid. The wall of the underground gondole locally, as if enormous a furoncle pushed other with dimensions. All vital space is compressed and the acid goes up dangerously. The woman goes back upright with sorrow, feeling strong pains with the belly. Its instinct of survival fights of all these forces against its addiction... This girl one is doped of this knowledge which it has without knowing the explanation of it, it would be let well die if that could help it to include/understand... Its mental force is still weak in spite of appearances... It has evil to make the share of the things and to classify its priorities, like an awkward child acting by instinct. Also, is again let it sink:

"But which were the decisive advantages of our Infirmateur? And well, it is current thing, a priori, its advantages were our hereditary weaknesses which did not have to him, these tares and indispositions which we had agreed to trail, these assets that we had conceded, to survive our environment as hostile as changeable... Oui, it is that... It is well that... First of all, we appeared on a planet where the gravity reported to the ray of the atmosphere is too much large... It is this singular report/ratio for a fertile planet which explains mainly the appearance of our intelligence without similar. Usually, the life ends up dominating its environment by the simple fact of the natural selection, no need for it, to include/understand the medium where it bathes, to use tools, to work technologies for that. It was partially the case on Earth, various diopters were controlled by the only changes of desoxyribonucleic acids: The oceans, the plains and the reliefs, some are temperatures and pressures, were annexed by victorious basic organizations of the "great lottery" without having to resort to brains out of the commun run... With regard to the skies, the conquest was only partial. Splendid species of birds admirably overcame the airs, they could fly during hours, plane on kilometers, cross whole oceans... It was considerable, that is to say, but however these birds were infichus to reach the surface of the diopter, the limit between the atmosphere and space, confining themselves to skim the ground, and this because of monumental energy that that implied. We come from a hearth of life frustrated by this problem, a hearth of life which had of cease and slackening to only try to be extracted with the gravity, which became obnubilated about it and which was put in a hysterical way to generate to make a success of it to escape from its primitive prison. Our intelligence, if different from that of the remainder of our biofratrie, with considering the day with a this only aim: to allow our home to extirpate bosom of this authoritative, demanding or too attentive mother for its brooded, who is this pleating of space time that formerly we name the Earth. We, Human, managed to free us from this handicap, but while using of ridiculous and poor artifices, poor expressions of this substitute of intelligence of the Process, which is our brain. Our solutions, made brigs and pitchers, did not carry out us well far from all ways "

A cold mucus cluster has been just crushed on the thinker who emerges again, very limed... A species of broken giant dimension, burst at a peak, has just bored the stomach in which it is... All the acid flowed by the breach, which surely saved its life... This feeling sticking and cold mucus on its skin, upsets it curiously and, aggravated, it does not manage any more to disregard its environment to insulate itself in its thoughts... It spends a small moment to be cleaned, irritated. Intrigued then by what there could be well behind the breach, it moves towards the hole and lets exceed its head... a chaotic spectacle is offered to it... A vast field of various bodies suffering from multiple malformations extends as far as the eye can see on reliefs papered from flesh necrosed and bordered of dense forests of long neurons. Their axiones is carried in the insane choreographies directed by large gusts of wind. Their dendrites per thousands claquent like whips the ones against the others. The woman knows herself on Earth even if it does not recognize of it any more the flora... She breathes a great breath of fresh air which invites it to serenity and introspection:

"the enemy did not come up against this problem. Its precursors result from a quite remote hearth born from the fecundation of one planet with the low atmosphere and weak gravity. The life did not encounter particular difficulties there to withdraw its niche. The medium is less severe, more homogeneous there, to also is less plentiful there it. It is a very clear assumption for the Process, a duplication of ideas, which it already tried out elsewhere, which proved reliable and on which it was based again. Very quickly the first organizations could without effort and quarrels to join the roadbases of their atmosphere, to be directly in contact with the sidereal vacuum, to splash there prudently initially, to plunge there with more and more of ease, conviction and insurance, to end up passing there from the whole lives in apnea, in complete autarky, free and autonomous. All that without their evolution by no means needing the affubler of unspecified an extra clearness. All this phase was not that a cascade of obviousnesses that the Process unrolled and reformulated to lead to an innovative doubt in termination, a new track much more advanced than our in its incommensurable reflexion "

The thinker is now in the medium of a field of oversize human hearts connected the ones to the others by a network of arteries and nerves which seem almost braided. They palpitate all regulated on same rate entonnant one envoûtant concert of percussions. Behind it draws up the organic dome which it has just left. It broke down on itself and ceased living. Immense construction is covered with necrose. Several osseous beams of its frame broke under the weight of a cancerous tumour almost as large as the dome. The woman is not turned over on the skin of her mother... She can now that she was born for a precise reason, to achieve a mission on which she must focus herself... She yet entirely does not encircle it but its research obsesses it and obnubilates it... She wishes only one thing: to finish booter its memory for finally including/understanding its order of mission and carrying out it as a good small soldier won over well to his cause... Its body was designed to this end... Each time that it tightens towards him its hypothalamus releases from great amounts of dopamine to thank it for its collaboration... It feels a quasi orgasmic extase each time that it detects a new invaluable index. Its body, its single tutor and lover, becomes on the other hand worst torturers when his attention is mislaid and moves away from the briefing: horrible electric discharges give the thinker on the right way. Whereas its raising continues, the young woman starts to feel refrigerated, also, blottit it near one of the large hot hearts which starts to rock it, to comfort it. She falls asleep, smiling and reassured. His/her child too.

"the second of our disadvantages is related to the tiny size of our Sun... It is a very small matter factory... Even with full thermonuclear mode, our star does not have the power necessary to synthesize very complex atoms, composed of enough protons and neutrons... The organic chemistries which rose from its atavism in its system, as that of Carbonne from which we come, revolve around too simple mechanisms not being able to succeed which has of the forms of also weak lives and without future only our... The star of our Infirmateur is much larger than the Sun. The organization of the enemy functions according to rules' of the chemistry of Lead. The reactions which enable us to store and release from energy, implied in the cycle of the phosphorus of adenosine di and triphosphate, are gadgets in comparison of those which work in the organization of these monsters: Their body naturally controls fusion and cold fission, it can constantly to operate million transmutations of various atoms according to its needs, to generate and channel in their being of energies equivalent to those released by the explosion of thousands of megatons of our atomic bombs. This type of energy control their A, in addition, be essential to be able to live in space. It ensures to them a large longevity of several of our millenia. Thanks to this asset, they can remain decades without having to feed and allow themselves to swim in the interstellar vacuum at vertiginous speeds. In spite of these formidable faculties that their evolution their conceded, these animals remain true travelling nuclear thermal power stations, gigantic fortresses with hen cerebellums "

It suddenly started to snow. The thinker remains filled with wonder by this spectacle which it lived only by delegation. Its eyes open wide dreamers and it does not even feel the intense discharge which recalls it to the order... It thinks of all the imaginary marvellous one which snow with Human could inspire... However, something starts to obstruct it. The flakes remain suspended in the air... It does not feel their characteristic coldness... They are not liquified in contact with its skin... That does not correspond to the memory that it has some. The woman remains dubitative one moment "They are not flakes...", Panique it, "It are of Smart Dusts, intelligent and autonomous dust forming vast networks of detection... kinds of exo-bodies microscopic of Infirmateur... of the inert sensory receivers, in sleep, which enable him to apprehend the world... Smart Dusts replace eyes with which it is not equipped, it powders its environment with it abundantly... They are able him to account for the least fluctuations thermal, the least variations of pressure to inform it imminence of obstacles or targets moving in its space explored near... Permanently, the mental image of the world which it can extrapolate is refined by another of its frightening directions, that which enables him to sail in space, of surfer in the ascending gravitational currents in feeder planet search, a powerful boson detector of Higgs by making a frightening predator... " The woman court to lose breath of it, but it is known already located... "It is enough that one of this malignant dust detects a fluctuation so that she enters in communication with her neighbors. It makes them share of its statements and the receiving ones are requested to make pass information... This one disperses initially in all the directions, affecting gradually, all Smart Dusts registered in a sphere with the ray growing... It is enough only to a few seconds so that the data go up until Infirmateur and that the latter turns over a feedback towards the dust which informed it, itself informing its informatrice, who makes of it in the same way, until the initiating exo-body is reached and which a network of preferential routing of information temporarily is not formed and is configured... "

A red halation is guessed very high in the skies... The woman sinks with any pace in the field without being turned over, striking with the passage of the palpitating bodies which explode with its contact... In the horizon, it noticed the covered ruins of an old city, almost packed up like present, by an immense cutaneous shroud... The capitals that it forms, under which one can guess beat them of a forever completed time, then give an idea to the thinker: to slip under this skin, where dust could not be introduced to be extracted from the field of perception of what took it in hunting. Around it, however, there is not the least sharp stone than it could use as tool to gash a notch... Perspiring with large drops, it seeks panicked a solution in the tumble of knowledge which it did not approach yet.

"If Infirmateur had a reason, it surely regarded us as a species of inoffensive lichen... We are well little of thing vis-a-vis to him... at the dawn of the year 2099, the first intrusions of the antithesis took place... The meetings of objects emitting of powerful radiations were reported by many drivers or passengers of aircraft... They testified to the presence of unknown flying entities which threw into a panic all their instruments being devoted to improbable accelerations and impossible variations of their trajectory with right angle, as if these objects had the possibility of cancelling their inertia at any moment or of deferring their kinetic energy entirely in a desired direction... Concordant testimonys were increasingly numerous, and which more is, corroborated by the fact that the witnesses would undoubtedly die in the week which followed their observation, in horrible sufferings. The business did not remain well a long time secret bus soon a red spot which very quickly was transformed into a cloud of entities, could be observable in the night with the naked eye, coming from Jupiter, by very with each one. All our ridiculous attempts to cancel the enemy were useless. We were not ready to face it and the cloud broke on Earth without encumber. We were on the defensive without knowing that that would not be used for nothing. Several nuclear accidents causing of the thousands of victims were charged to the effect of panic which accompanied the event. It was however only one ironic prelude of the Process, like touching us in our disproportionate pride, to show us at which point we were weak and will fanfarons. We did not even control our own attacks. The continuation was even more pathetic. The intruders took possession of all stratosphere and are reflected to bathe there peacefully without same attacking us... They ignored us royally drawing sufficient resources in these high altitudes. We felt reassured one moment. These beings after all had never directly attacked us. We vainly tried to make a pact with them. We however made proof of greatest ingeniousness in the coding of our messages of peace. These animals were quite simply connes... infoutues of piger such an abstract concept... Our insistence to approach them ends up inconveniencing them, but I imagine, a little like ivies climbing, invading a frontage, could upset the owner of the places... They are reflected to plunge towards our towns of time to others to do the housework a little and to get rid of this species of useless aesthetic pollution that we represent... "

The thinker emerging of its considerations, sees herself covered of blood. She is with four legs in front of an open wound of the ground. An unpleasant back taste has just invaded its mouth. It then spits a great piece of flesh which it shredded with the teeth and plunges its head in the notch from which it extracts a greater mouthful. It continues its work by tearing off long meat scraps with its hands, evolving/moving now in a puddle pool of haemoglobin. The infirmator approaches leaving behind him a stereoscopic trail and a constellation of scintillating Smart Dusts. The thinker looks at her scarlet fist. Its fingers are loosened slowly and of small engraved escape from its palm and fall down in the puddle pool which little by little is absorbed by the mineral ground that the woman has just updated while digging. The stones soak with blood like sponges. There is an interstice between the rock layer and the organic layer. The derm is raised like badly fixed fitted carpet and the woman slips her legs into the slit after having lain on the back. She seizure finally the cutaneous carpet and overlaps some as if it acted of a cover. At this point in time it feels a presence behind it. Slowly its eyes rock behind and the reversed image of Infirmateur solidifies in the center of its field of vision. It is petrified by will have red animal which burns its retinas instantaneously. Its flesh bubbles and of the identical memories of pains, of already tested similar tortures, remake surface.

"Following the exposure prolonged to the radiations emitted by all this new fauna, a multitude of the people, luckiest probably, succumbed, irradiated... Whole cities were pulverized by the fall of colossal radioactive asteroids digging deep craters and raising enormous blades of funds in the seas. They were not however that will étrons, excrements, innocently and naturally evacuated by the animals without the least intension to use them as weapons. The survivors as for them suffered most atrocious from the martyrs... Certain cells in our organizations are particular. They are adult cells stocks. They have extraordinary properties close to those of the embryonic cells stocks. Some are implied in mechanisms of repair of the skin, liver, or renewal of the blood cells like the cells hematopoïetic stocks of osseous marrow. These last are known as pluripotentes because they have the potential to create various cells specialized like the adipocytes, the lymphocytes, the plates... Others, which interest us more particularly if necessary are known as totipotentes and have the same potential of differentiation as the embryonic cells stocks. It was never too well known why they were present in our organizations, since they were inhibited, in sleep... Perhaps were they quite simply residues, stays of our construction? Or perhaps although they played a part of first importance in the random appearance of new bodies making it possible our species by anticipation to survive the abrupt purifications ordered by the ceaseless variations their biotopes? At all events, the body radiation of Infirmateur caused to stimulate these cells stocks totipotentes in sleep at the majority of the individuals of our biofratrie, to withdraw them from their atavistic lethargy... Bodies started to develop at inappropriate places in the organizations of the survivors... Some died on the blow for example following aneurisms cerebral caused by the appearance of teeth in their brain, or by the initiation of chain reactions as the ceaseless production of new vertebrae until them column does not break. The others became completely insane, affublés of multiple members, of parallel nervous systems giving contradictory instructions at their organization, liquified in their carnal envelope, supersaturated the information collected by the reduction of their sensors... The violent ones and bloody battles of dreams resulting from all the species having until now survived in our home of life were spread and been established in all the land biotopes and diopters. All that of course because of the violent rupture of balance generated by the intrusion of Infirmateur, also ingenuous and naive had been its intensions... The terrestrial one underwent the by-effect of it and after a fashion tried to survive while adapting to this news gives... A species of consensus was found within the organic mechanisms resulting from the chemistry of Carbonne... A sudden reaction of polymerization welded forever the destinies of species and formerly dissociated individuals... This sedimentary layer in which I evolve/move, this alive organic carpet in symbiosis with the tumours caused by the radiations of Infirmateur, this organic coral species covering the abyssals zone with the medium of sedentarisation of the enemy, is the result of this consensus... the expression of the control of the chemistry of Carbonne by the chemistry of Lead... I am an emanation of this consensus, a prototype of mechanism of rebellion and defense against the oppressor... Perhaps the last chance of our colonized home?"

Smart Dusts are introduced into the lungs of the young woman each time that it takes an inspiration... It feels the enemy to invade it, to penetrate in its blood system, to traverse any sound being. Its skin is in boiling bombarded massively by the radiation of Infirmateur. The woman knows herself well too near to the source of radiations to be able to hope to survive... the animal encircles smallest of her sudden starts, the least of her breaths or cardiac beats... She holds her prey, ready to carry the final thrust... The victim as for it is slowly let sink.

"did the whole residual organic layer conspire against the oppressor to develop to me, to conceive itself in the secrecy... one of the last cells stocks of this carpet of life to the anguish was reprogrammed, coded to lead so that I am... material? What a material basically? How could one define this term? For a long time our answer, morally, éthiquement would moderately have been confined with "Any element making it possible to the Man to build objects, tools, beat... used in a rough way or refined or implied in mixtures..." Of course implicitly they would have been materials of mineral origin or died organic matter as wood... Perhaps by disavowing in this definition our primal intuitions, barbarians who pushed us to design objects to be started from bone, internal organs dried, tanned skins of animals? ... Surely by occulting the fact that the plastics result from the organic chemistry, them which seem so artificial? It would have seemed ridiculous to speak about material while speaking about the contents about an egg in the design about a receipt, of a cake for example and yet ç' would have indeed been the case... The cluster of flesh, bone and neurons which I am, is nothing more than one machine, fruit of the reflexion of the so particular residual conscience of the Man within what it remains today of our original home of life... I am the result of the techniques and engineering the most led in the field of the design... "

The thinker starts... She seems to emerge from a terrible nightmare where its life would have slipped by to him between the fingers without she being able nothing to make there... All is dark around her... She feels in immersion in a liquid... Some bubbles of air tickle it pulled by the push of Archimedes. It blinks eyes and is discovered in a placental pocket. Taken of panic, it inspires a great mouthful of liquid and lack of little to drown.... But instinctively of the two hands, it starts to push the membrane blanchâtre which retain it captive, the borer and flows with the liquid outside the cocoon... an impression of already lived gains it... Thrown into a panic, it hastens to palpate its belly... It is round and hot... the child does not have anything, it gives even small kicks. "I thus dreamed all that?", Question yourself it, "that seemed so real however... It is surely related to the construction schedule of my memory... May its installation taking place well before my birth, it be that I would be the prey of powerful are delirious during my development? It is well that, it was right a nightmare... A repetition before the great representation... "Then the thinker seizure her umbilical cord not to stumble... It draws a great dry blow and at this point in time a tear from light not of nothing. A wall of coagulated blood breaks down... Lux fugit... A heavy mass falls by the notch and fall brutally on the ground. The thinker notices whereas its feet press a mineral ground strewn with small stones... She cherishes hand the ceiling of the neck in which she is... It is well a épidermique layer which perspires... She promptly plunges her eyes towards the fall and then pushes a horrible cry of fear... She sees herself... It is it... Atrociously mutilated and disfigured, but it is well it... The umbilical cord goes up until the crotch of its skin... "Infirmateur thus has finishes by me having... Its radiations were right of my old envelope... But then? I do not make the weight? I am a failure? With less than... Yes it is that... I am not an attack directly launched against Infirmateur... But then...? If such is not my mission...... which is it?" The woman is taken spasms, small and spaced at the beginning, then more and more violent one and close relations... She falls to knees by pushing a long moaning simultaneously pronounced and selected... She rolls, struck by the dopamine which its neurons release, and loses itself in an orgasm liberator...

A sparse avalanche of Smart Dusts of flash reds is engulfed by the notch... The dissociated lasers are linked and do not finish being essential like dense ambient light. Several Infirmateurs met outside and whirl threatening, around the breach... A gold glare not in the medium of a scarlet emulsion made up of haemoglobin and lasers: One of Infirmateur has just plunged its mouth in the open wound of the organic layer and the first skin extracts some from the thinker who blazes up and make in a magma of alternative transmutations of lead gold atoms and lead atoms into gold. Another Infirmateur catches the umbilical cord and expels of a violent one beat of fin the second organization of the thinker in the airs. It completes its race against a large cartilagineux rock on which it is crushed and dislocates itself. The first both Infirmateurs melt at once on the body and divide it savagely, whereas third continues to whirl dubitative around the breach... Its Smart Dusts restore the mental image of a disconcerting viscous volume registered in a dangerous expansion under the épidermique layer which swells and gondole to him... The monster approaches the breach prudently from where suddenly a thick egg albumin foam is propelled like geyser. Taken fury, Infirmateur infiltrates in the interstice and is found encircled still hot corpses packed up in split pockets bathing in enough of placental liquid. They are connected the ones to the others by umbilical cords... They blaze up all with the approach of Infirmateur.

The thinker, who knows finally her mission, has just initiated a relentless chain reaction, a pitiless cycle of lives and deaths "I am not a response against Infirmateur...", Clame she whereas without effort she gives rise to a new Ego and that the old one dies at once its achieved task, "I am a logical continuation, a cascade of obviousnesses..." Each new being already am fertilized, adult and am sown, ready to give the life. The rate of the settings with bottom and the deaths takes a hysterical rate/rhythm. Each new entity resembles a ruffled organic paper which one would have rolled in ball, it is unfolded in "pop" as a material with memory of form that one would have stimulated by heat. The last expelled placentas bubble before being cracked, to split itself and to release ten bored foetal bags, hardly formed corpses, the whole bathing in a thick placental foam and invading "One gives One...", Répète the thinker become the single cursor of the controlled reaction, "I am only one machine... My brain was excentric, excentré, deportee of my cranium to give me new potentials... I smell it there, with the hollow of the belly of my child... It is there that I live... It is there that I think and that I control... Around him, thousands of workers were affairent to coat, amonceler, and to build the N+2 Iteration... All is clear and limpid now, I was already closely convinced of my mission before being certain for it... I showed itself it by recurrence... The doubt is allowed to me more... "

Infirmateur under the organic layer taken of panic struggles after a fashion... It as quickly consumes as possible all the matter around him but is found quickly captive of a sudden crystallization of a flood of dry ice appeared to its interaction. Infirmateurs outside attend impotent its capture. The whole organic layer swells and seems to start a intrigante dance of intimidation whereas in fact in its cave, the reaction packed and the skin is pushed back by the births in chain. Terrified both Infirmateurs flee in two long stereoscopic tubes towards the higher realms to find refuge within their community.

"All is information in the Process, all is incredibly simple there actually, the some either cut, the some or scale or the projection which is made by it, all can be easily classified in two dual categories: Bosons and Fermions, flow and data, vectors and points, mediators and réactants, forces and matters. All is only action and reaction. The predictibility does not exist there, it is only one illusion there... ", the thinker is haunted by her primal considerations... It repeats them in loop like justifying itself before starting the second inevitable phase of the reaction which it initiated. There is well enough organic matter with phagocyter in the layer to feed its transformations, to poke its flame "All changes, nothing is not lost...", the thinker does not know too much for what a reason but this consideration sounds false when she puts it in prospect with her order of mission, "It is in this erroneous banality that this finds the key! The loophole! Strict laws, a drastic regulation, control the oneiric Universes of the Process which is in fact only prisons for the assumptions which are born there... The Process is meticulous person and ordered, he clearly dissociates his axes of reflexion out of consensual packages, of categories and entities which he classifies. It sets up parapets to be ensured of the purity of its analysis... But the fault precisely emanates from this paranoia, this desire of exaggerated control... All the mechanisms of moderation, feedback, scheduling, hierarchisation are large consumers of cycles of calculation... The laws of our Universe can be circumvented, violated, ridiculed bus precisely all is only information and flow of information... The matter is prey with the gravitational forces only parce Bosons of Higgs, Gravitons, circulates and is exchanged between the masses informing the ones the others of their respective presence and inviting their neutral Leptons to interact... The positive Quarks obey only the orders which Gluons their give, the negative Quarks respect other directives only those of the Bosons W, W+ and Z°, the negative Leptons are inclined only in front of the authority of the Photons... I can ridicule the laws if I am faster than the Messengers who are supposed to submit the report/ratio of the rupture of balance than I caused with the Fermions whose mission is to thwart very tentative violation... Because if they are informed only when the misdeed was accomplished, they are useless... I was designed to this end, to have a length in advance on Bosons of the Process by concealing cycles of calculations to him... By which mechanisms? I do not know it... I know just that I can it... "

The organic layer is now inflated like a balloon... The births and deaths, the cycle of the iterations of the thinker are emblent to have been blown. Infirmateurs emerge in pack and fall down on the Skin which blazes up in a flash and revêt the aspect of a magma in perpetual change... The bodies on its surface are dislocated and recomposed, of immondes varixes take shape suddenly letting spout out hundreds of large aortas which break flooding the places of a fine and abundant rain of haemoglobin. Infirmateurs insane of rage burn their radiations very.

In the medium of this chaos, tapie in the ruins of one beat old city, lost in the heart of the thick egg albumin foam, a placental pocket palpitates and does not seem not split. It is enough to cross its membrane to find one of the corpses of the thinker, flooded lungs of liquid. Among its livid legs in weightlessness, a finished umbilical cord of a new palpitating pocket emanates which when one crosses its membrane reveals us again the same spectacle on a reduced scale. It is the same when one penetrates egg in egg, the egg of egg in egg, the egg of egg of egg in egg. With each step, the corpse seems less and less succeeded and formed... One does not manage practically any more to recognize the thinker with the tenth iteration, from twentieth one has evil to identify it with a foetus, beyond thirtieth it does not have any more but one small shredded meat conglomerate there and a small cord ballotté by light running, who is connected any more to nothing...

On the surface of the tsunamis of necrose are propagated on all the organic layer while moving away from the point of contact with Infirmateurs. The tapi of life dies as a whole whereas at the point of contact even it redoubles vitality. Large eyes emanating of the magma of flesh, locate Infirmateurs before exploding in a swirl of haemoglobin. Stubs appear of-Ci beyond temporarily, and sink in vortices of annihilations and gamma radiations. Infirmateurs transpierce the turns of the old city which dégoulinent of caramelized grease such of improbable candles, but whereas they gather in formation and undertake a turn with right angle, the capital of flesh gives birth to gigantic hands which are folded up in fists before falling down violement on several of the entities and imploser with them in a tornado of cartilages, broyats of bone, of flesh, lead crystals and gold, intense photonic, decorated bombardments shootings of flashes and handles of Smart Dusts. The cloud of Infirmateurs tries a fold but whereas the last monsters bore the capital, the organic magma is transformed into multiple trenches bordered of sharp-edged hooks, jaws which déchiquètent the entities with the drag. The Infirmateurs last disperse radially and try individually to join stratosphere in a stereoscopic fireworks to escape from the ire from the biosphere. But it is a waste of time and effort... The globality of the organic layer explodes in the unit, generating an intense spherical shock wave which catches up with the runaways and breaks in full flight. The layers of peripheral matter of the Earth are vaporized in the interplanetary vacuum whereas its thin bark is parcelled out. Whole tectonic plates fold, break and are raised before sinking such of gigantic ships in flames in the coat of lava, immense magmatic ocean exposed...

Perhaps more at the same moment, but with very approximate cycles of calculation, on subatomic levels, an undulation remains. The thinker continues her recursive propagation and her frantic miniaturization, followed of a comet tail, various a Boson procession taken of course, not having anticipated the multiple infringements with the universal laws which they are supposed to prevent but that the thinker made without shame. They inform, with an unquestionable delay, various Fermions neighbourhood which are grabbed by incommensurable fields of force and which interact violement with iterations Nm of the thinker, where delay Nm believes exponentially in each cycle of calculation stolen by it with the Process. Envelopes Nm are repressed with largest of severities, with the height of the committed crime, by the pure one and simple annihilation but iteration N survives with more and more of ease. The amplitude of the wave thinker declines until reaching 10-54 meters, barrier of Planck beyond which nothing any more can exist. A sphere of nothing grows by effect of zoom and the cramp...

...



Ariankh

Traduction ? (non je ferais pas.)

Kirunaa

on avait fait ça une fois.

le retour au français avait été assez marrant.

Ariankh

Selon google :

Dans l'obscurité d'un tunnel aux murs humides et palpitating, avec la rotation d'un cou cutané décoré de gros pores lubrifiant par des endroits d'immenses tapis muqueux prolongés des puits tortuous couverts des ouatines des poils de roughcast, le bruit raucous des soufflements alterne l'inlassablement avec le bruit échouant des inspirations. En cette caverne colossale, les veines de bouillonnement marbrées, constellated avec les aspérités discontinues et les petits agrégats tumoral, resound des battements réguliers venant d'une transpiration de membrane d'une annexe translucide, perler de poche cytoplasmique de blanchâtre d'une ouverture que des contrats et est détaché, caché dans plié vers le haut de la cavité. Le sac est équilibré de haut en bas et fait à undulate le tout de la peau de la chambre forte par des secousses. Avec chaque secousse, grande émergence injectée d'hémoglobine de l'ouverture, jets sur la membrane et agglomérés dans de petites piscines de magma dans les cellules de la terre. Le placenta finit vers le haut de tomber fortement dans une ornière où le sang éclabousse. Les longs filaments d'ovalbumine relient l'oeuf à l'ouverture qui tousse le spasmodiquement ce liquide visqueux, prise d'une attaque soudaine épileptique qui est propagée par des vagues dans tout le reste du tunnel. Une main de tremblement se dessine quand elle serre le film placentaire fin. Elle finit vers le haut d'aléser et de déchirer la poche. Un être part là à l'anguish, avec la douleur et la détermination. C'est un adulte, une femme d'adulte qui s'abaisse sur une terre mobile qui est des convulsions attrapées. C'est ballottée dans toutes les directions par les entrailles qui contorsionne de douleur. Soi-même suffoque et vomit le liquide placentaire. Il ne parvient pas à respirer, et cherche l'air frantically tandis que gesticulant. Ses yeux counterirritated des bruits, il ne voit rien là et essaye maladroitement de se lever mais des chutes avec chaque tentative, glissant sur la peau moite du tube blanchi des sécrétions. Son corps nu traîne le placenta tout en essayant de se sauver et soudain il trébuche sur son propre cordon ombilical, perd l'équilibre et la chute par le valvule qu'il n'a pas noté. Mais sa chute est courte... Elle est sentie curtly a maintenu par cette longue corde tendue qui a été obtenue mélangée vers le haut de plus haut autour d'un protuberance des entrailles. La femme souffre terriblement mais peut maintenant respirer en cela le cou aéré et filtré d'une lumière rougeâtre. On courrant d'air nauséabond lui fait la prise encore ses spiritueux. Elle pousse un cri de fright, pas qu'elle a la crainte du vide sous ses pieds mais parce qu'elle voit son ventre et courbure proéminant. Elle est enceinte et se rappelle:


Ca me rapelle les textes de quelqu'un, mais qui...

Kirunaa


Glaüx

Je vous tiens pour responsable de l'explosion de sonotone de ma voisine du bout de la rue suite à un cri de rire venant du troisième droite de chez moi.