Created but infinite, our time is that of the Monad. We are the black box of God, cognitive induction cones, intellects-agents neither separate nor simple extensions of the Unique, but still synthetically disconnected from Him. We are closed/open. We are quantum fields whose individuation emerges only at the severance of all severances, like at the pivotal point of our time machine, where everything is numbers, everything is code; everything, paradoxically, becomes manifest presence.” This is what he is hearing, this voice that seems to be present in everything and nothing, part of every subject in Being. The voice is inside him, singing inside him, resonating to the other end of the universe. They are at the Hotel Laika, Grand Junction; Capsule 108, in her room. They have translated themselves here, and everything is surrounded by a halo of light, like the distant echo of a furnace, and he hears the voice. The voice—the voices—the multiplex of the Single—divine technology. And yet, here the most absolute silence reigns.
What do You think about Cosmos Incorporated (2008)?
