Crimson Cadence

Crimson Cadence1

In the  Sacred Coal Kronos Nebula of the Crimson Cadence region , on the apparently dead fourth planet of a star called Tybolt Nerfon, Captain Martha Steffeny of the Mapping Command stood counting chocolate pecan tarts. Eleven to infinity on a scale of Turtle Twelve. No, Twelve minus Octave Omega. She wondered if there was any significance in the hypothermia of the soul at this dimensional level. She had no idea or any trans-dimensional basters for psycho-morphic inquiry.

 

Crimson Cadence 2

“What do you take off from its apparition layer?” she asked.

Lieutenant Tom Ballistic, the executive officer of the Cube, almost tried to scratch his crow before he remembered that it was wearing a spacesuit.

“Looks like a temporal camp,” Ball said. “Very few buildings, and all built out of native exo-plasma materials, the only stuff available. Castaways, maybe Gilligan and the Skipper?”

Steffeny was silent as she walked up onto the rise. The flat weathered stone jutted out of the neutrino coral and sand before Cube’s seventh dimensional frame.

“No inscriptions,” she pointed out.

“They would have been worn away. See the solar wind grooves? Anyway, there’s not another building on the whole damn planet. You wouldn’t call it much of a civilization.”

“You don’t think these are native?”

Ball said he didn’t. Steffeny nodded and flung a holo-frisbee through the consciousness of the planet’s temporal membrane.

 

 

Crimson Cadence 3

Standing there and gazing at the translucent stone, Steffeny felt the awe of great age. She had a hunch, deep and intuitive, that this was old—too old for either a Mork Analysis or an Uncle Miltie Transferal . Reaching out a gloved hand, chrono-particles ran gently over the smooth stone ridges of the wall’s shadow. Although the atmosphere was very thin, she noticed that the buildings had no airlocks.

Ballistic’s voice sounded in her telepathic field: “Want to set up shop, and look for the Skipper , The Professor  and Mary-Janes?”

Steffeny paused. “All right, if you think it will do any good.”

“You never can tell. Excavation probably won’t be much use. These things are on a raised crockery foundation, swept clean by the wind. And you can see that the clock face itself is native—” he indicated the ledge beneath their feet—”and it was engraved a long while back.”

“How long?”

Ballistic pointed his ballerina toed foot at the sand uncomfortably. “I wouldn’t like to say off-hand.”

“Make a rough estimate.”

Ballistic looked at the carnelian capstan mirror , knowing what Crimson Cadence estimated in tachyon degradation, he hazarded, “ Octave Omega to the Jive Particle.”

Crimson Cadence 4

Steffeny whistled a Mooga-mooga Charlie at the crow as it flew over Ballistic. Drifting slowly, it morphed into a mecha-butterfly.

Ballistic pointed again at the sub-station pie plates at the tectonic levels of mythopoeic metaphor . “Look at the striations. You can tell from that alone. It would take even a brisk Venusian wind doing talkie-walk at least several thousand temporal decibels to cut that deep, and the photon steam tractors here have only a fraction of that force.”

The Crimson Cadence adjusted the Cube parameters and ghosts began to move about as the atmosphere thickened into a more bio-friendly state to support emotional responsiveness. A flock of crows arrived and began to transform into their mecha-butterfly forms. In preparation for the next phase of research Steffeny and Ballistic each composed official haikus.

 

Crimson Cadence 5

Close vaguely, crows fly –

Anything made leads to freedom.

Blank blank state, ghosts rise.

 

 

Slotting time will sleep –

Bezhig speeds up tachyons.

The Ostrich has landed.

Progress Report:

It was determined to proceed – faint surface.

There was one aspect.

Familiar area under miles,

Metaphors continue to grow

niiwo-diba’igaans memories that sing

while the ship is moving –

Oxygen together was silent,

but it was clear Mashi-Palinode strip.

Finally detect, the expected growth –

this MISTY Location will go to the ball.

Silver slippers measure out mnemonic iambic metres –

Twilight, went to shine on the third chirality.

And Eye had one on.

 

City and people in rock –

Left, now in a spiral.

The height of some of the sun,

For all the clouds of the planet had brazers –

Steffeny displays sleep.

 

 

It was dark.

My Naked Mile did not describe it.

They have nothing.

Slowing the ship down,

He-below on lists has watched.

 

 

Clouds’ Will move completely.

Zone first mapping of the planet’s soul forests,

try sums, cranes came, they saw Steffeny.

Moons After Sorrow-tide -scanning the hot track of what to do.

This is due to gas up from the heavy hill miles and is shown below.

More Or Less:

However, the move

Before the flat,

In apparitional norms and systems,

Particles shed them for tachyon tears to get;

Then from feinberg faster storage

comes first haven – into woods.

Speed tachyons,

Two nights as Greeks allows sommerfeld-stillness, space sleeping.

 

Sub – S-dimensional Caesura transmission to Crimson Cadence

 

Putative meaning,

Sleep who have the tachyons –

Fictional cats travel.

 

 

Will there be Niswi ?

accentual-syllabic

universe expands.

 

 

Crimson Cadence 6

 

Consider a future where the boundaries, not only of various sciences, but also the arts and diverse cultures are removed to create a more accurate exploration of the universe and space-time. The language, terminology and even the reference points for experiencing and describing reality will blend multiple disciplines into a coherent whole. To our senses, reasoning, and understanding, there would be a breakdown in meaning . The pattern and organization would become a morphing abstract of implied meaning, at times almost mystical/absurdist. Click links provided for background information, some terms are in Ojibway.  The base of the text is a public domain science fiction tale from 1952 – see original text here.

Advertisements

11 thoughts on “Crimson Cadence

    1. It was fun pulling the threads together. Rather than scrambling the text ( published in 1952) , I started by updating it with more contemporary elements. Turning the leader of the expedition into a woman, incorporating modern physics (at least terminology). Then played with the mass media and art/literature cultural elements & terms.

      I used some Dada messing up of text to create a basis for the poetic forms. 😀

  1. Not sure that my mind can play these games/mind warps, Joseph but I love the absurbities of it all. And the images are amongst the best you’ve posted.

    1. Thanks Lee. Yes, it is one of those compositions where potential future idioms and descriptive language becomes an absurdist commentary on present social trends. I was thinking about how many phrases , mottos & slogan, names and other idioms have either disappeared or changed meaning. A generation may not even know the origin of an expression or who a celebrity brand was ( they may morph into something else – Paul Newman the actor disappears into history, but Newman’s Own salad dressing lives on ).

      The original photos were from the sequence I made when I poured the liquid wax into the cold water in the washroom sink. My updated current version of PaintShop Pro came with new features and some bonus plugins. Combined effects with some of my standbys to create these visual pieces. 🙂

      1. I like what you are doing in PaintShop Pro and how exciting to have new stuff to play with 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s