Metavalent Stigmergy

How New Default Consensus Realities Instantiate



indiscriminately tautological obfuscatory exegesis

in First Life, a playful if oft pointless posthumanish portal of parturient postulations perhaps approaching an eventual emergent focus. in a Second Life haven, posing as a self-deprecating vainglorious role-playing maven; exploring and debunking an experimental proto-identity as harbinger of all things metavalent; observering, absorbing, reframing, reporting as Metavalent Harbinger. in Third Life (see 'Third Place' for analogical context) like StumbleUpon, Newsvine, and more recently Facebook; an experimental extension of the First and Second, toward a practical, participatory, Accountable Anonymity. prior to being jory'd (also see, ubik) by some kind of metavalent stigmergy, the original idea for this site, aWebcamDarkly, had devolved into little more than a compost heap for all kinds of interweb refuse that seemed -- albeit, by a willfully if whimsical narcissistic disshelveled irrational intuition -- of vastly greater overstated significance to our world and its future than is presently conceivable by today's extant 44+2 hominid variety. and yet, i must resist the urge to coddle, dear reader. only following the links, digesting the material, can make all discernable over time. glossing, glancing, or assuming that previously demonstrated powers of pattern recognition will be, or should be good enough -- are not. and so it gradually dawned upon me that any attempt to describe the aforementioned meaning, or comment upon it in any detail, would only detract from the imperative and consciously inconsequential collecting and composting process. what this means is, things didn't turn out as planned and that clicking through the pages of what is now called (until such time as the camper holding out on lets go) is like rummaging through the Valis office trash bins, picking out and uncrumpling scraps and drafts of scribbled or sketched intentions in a vain attempt to discern the meaning of the scrap's creator. is then, in its current form, an essentially misanthropic and pretty much pointless proliferation of highly abridged and largely neglected semi-articulations of what one might otherwise consider something of a mandelbrot-like maelstrom of mostly incomplete intuitions, formed as the ignoble result of information gluttony and attendant, inevitable bloat of intellectual indigestion. here they huddle, such and sundry displaced, disadvantage, and disjointed imaginings, under what might only be described as a rickety handcrafted mud and grass hut of a web space; starving for attention, agape with pity-provoking, bleary, teary, and utterly innocent wide-eyed little barefoot orphaned aspirations.So hurry and ...


... or risk dying of eternal guilt and shame not not even sparing so much as a miserly click or two. Or worse yet, run the risk of becoming an everlasting inculpatory extropian. Hey, it's your beman karma, friend, I'm just trying to help. Besides, it's all psychobabble rap to me.

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