Logo of the Museum of Vestigial Desire
The Museum of Vestigial Desire


tags: lamp published on:

We access what we need to experience just in time. We do not store any content locally. When you store content locally, and you do not refresh it often, you run the risk of possessing a content-body that is out of sync.

Out of sync content bodies do not bear any weight. They can sink without any trace. Such bodies do not have anything to contribute to the conversation.

What does going out of sync mean?

Imagine a pool of organic matter. Each instance of the bitstream of the pool's continuum has a different state of reality. Each such state demands a different configuration on the part of the entities that access it. If an entity attempts to access the pool without itself possessing an appropriate configuration, it can be rejected by the pool. The entity might not be able to even perceive the pool as visible.

This configuration is generated by each state in flux. To know this configuration it is necessary to be in sync with the flux.

By storing content locally we risk an encounter with a pocket of time that is out of sync with the world.

So we never store content locally.

We access what we need to experience just in times we access the content of the moment through our browser-like mind.

At any given moment, our mind loads the fresh content held in the bosom of time. We browse remoteness, fresh and unpolluted with dead remains of local experience. Once we are present, we enable you to experience the remote.

What is remote?

What is not here?

The pocket of time that we live in is here. The time we are suspended in is a fabric of time that this pocket is stitched to. The fabric is not here. The fabric is there. The fabric is remote.

We frequently experience time at the border, the interstitial space between the pocket and the fabric. The noise between the remote and the local. In any act of projection, this noise prevents immersion.

This noise is the only thing that give us a chance to discover the remote.

Otherwise there is no clue.

Browsers are beings in time that load portals that exist in another time. There is always a difference in time between the local and the remote.

This difference in time creates the separation between local and the remote. Otherwise everything would always be in sync and there would be no anxiety about understanding which copy we are browsing, the local or the remote?

Caching is a useful technology. Caches have a deadline. They expire after a certain duration. On each access, a browser checks if the cached copy is older than a certain interval. If yes, it refreshes the copy from the remote copy, if not it displays it. Caching reduces the dependency on the remote, it makes the process of content display more variable and makes the possibility of connection more redundant. It is true that I can connect, but sometimes I cannot.

How does a connection with the remote happen? Is it a mystical thing, a spiritual ability or advancement or something else?

Connecting with the remote depends on the ability to read. If you can read, you can connect.

‹ index