Even the odds can seem strange

This is the time, and this is the novel of the time. This is the novelty of the time. Time cannot be parted - this exists without time. It neither always was, yet it is now without cause. Yet this exists also without chaos. Yes, he affirmed. He arrived. He sat down at the station. All he had to say was yes. All he had to give was the ticket, and he was there, he did arrive. It did not occur in passive voice - it did occur in a passive vocoding. He could not speak without a carrier. He could not speak without a modulator. Neither can you. You could operate a ski lift and wear a ski mask and lose your modulation. That option remains available to all: "Mmmm, mmmmm, mmmmmm..." you would say. Or: "Aahhh, aaaaaaah a-a-a-a-a..."

The pitch went up. The modulation tightened. "Hello," said Rob. The pitch dipped. The modulation squirmed. "My name isz Rob," he added helpfully. You didn't need him to tell you that. He spoke to somebody else, not to you. That was a person sitting next to Rob. The person was sitting there in the station, in the - port, in the - air station, in the - air...port. The air whistled through the person's mouth, carried its words into the station to fly out, to fly away. "Oh," said the person's voice. "Tadd. Tadd Harkington."

The person meant that he called himself Tadd Harkington.

Their hands embraced and this made their hands very happy. One hand could communicate with the other hand. If their hand's communication could be put into words, Rob's hand would have spoken, "Oh! Woorr-worr-worr-worr" and then Tadd's hand would have said "Oh! Gusha-husha-husha-husha" and they would have hugged. They would have been friends, if they weren't merely hands. So they were only briefly friends.

Tadd's face covered up a mild revulsion towards airplanes. Every 5 or 6 seconds or so, his face would twitch for about a 4th of a second. The muscles of his eyebrows expanded and tightened so that his eyebrows flicked upwards. The corners of his mouth similarly flicked as if they wanted some personal space on the opposite end of Tadd's moonlike face. Tadd did this all unconsciously. He didn't know, in the fore of his mind that he usually called "Tadd", that he was actually terrified of planes. He could understand how they could fly but something desperately primal inside his overweight pinstriped frame said that they couldn't fly, their wings did not move and they were far too heavy. Something just as instinctual inside Tadd's preconscious mind was at odds with the fear, the part of Tadd that made him Not Cause a Scene in Public, something that all humans at the time did indeed possess. One was stored in neural patterns in the middle of his brain, and the other resided in the front. His brain, and indeed no brain, especially in this record, no, novel of the time is united. Every brain, no, mind in this record, no, novel of the time is going to try like crazy to think and make other minds, no, brains think that each one actually is, and that nobody is actually ever at odds with himself, no, herself, no, itself, no...

Microexpression

O Superman

Brain Complexity

Complexity is size, metric and currency of information. Of mind. Of the soul.

You don't know me
but if You had ... (to)
would You refer ... (to me)
in the future tense
Please?

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...