I never knew who this dude was and yet all my life I remember seeing pictures of him, especially when I was a kid. It almost haunts me really.he can do it
I never knew who this dude was and yet all my life I remember seeing pictures of him, especially when I was a kid. It almost haunts me really.
The existence of higher dimensions, it is possible that their number also tends to infinity.Anyway serious answer
The infinite dimensional stuff, usually OBD takes dimensions on a case by case basis since how much they actually tangibly affect anything varies wildly from series to series (even sometimes varying within the same series). However the Giant Corps creating an internal multiverse, and those inside of doing the same etc. is pretty impressive in its own right
That said I don't really grasp what the overall strength of the Laplace Demons is, and it seems to be pretty different from how the concept was originally imagined in real-life physics
Based on what you've presented series like Elder Scrolls, The Dark Tower, Elric, Transformers could probably be able to deal with it
Some thought the whole thing was a fairy tale. Perhaps we are like nothing more than weeds planted on the hand of a Brahmin, and when the Brahmin awakens we will be torn up regardless of whether our dimension is high or low. Or perhaps there is some turtle in some hyperdimensional space, and when the turtle turns, some even-higher-level elephant in some even-higher-level dimension also has to turn
The Techno-Gnosis Group is said to be searching for a theory of the soul, seeking internal progress toward the next stage, but the results of this search are difficult for outsiders to detect. The central idea propounded by Hildegard and her cohort is the Nemo ex machina, a mechanized null. These giant corpora of knowledge are spending most of their passing instants in a semi-trance, exploring the multiverse within. For the most part, this renders them incapable of communication
This idiotic picture was what it was. This was the nightmare from which no one could awake. It might have been that somewhere there was a way to awaken from this, but this was the kind of nightmare that even once escaped, its dreamer would remain unknown. To awaken from this kind of nightmare was a loss. The dream, as dreamed by who-knows-who, dispersed, but that did not mean we knew the identity of the culprit. To find him, I had the feeling it would make more sense to burst into a number of dreams and walk through them. It might be difficult to find them, but we would ultimately be able to get at the dreams-within-dreams. Unfortunately, the only ones sleeping here right now were all the Freuds.
Let's think about the instant when the writer entered this world. One day a man obtains a giant page, by complete coincidence, on which is written everything he has ever decided, exactly as he decided it. This is great, the man is thinking, and he starts getting into all kinds of nonsense. He is the owner of the page, and he sets the rules for everything that happens on the page. Even if it disturbs him a little bit.
But he is in good spirits as he writes and writes, and then he notices that what is written on the page is not just about him. On the page are several other writers, and they all seem to be writing whatever they please. The man thought he was writing his own novel, but the work is not his alone. He comes to realize it is a gestalt written by all the different writers on the page. Could it be he is not writing a novel at all, but something more like chicken tracks among autumn leaves?
And the man becomes suspicious that these other writers who seem to be writing about him on the same page must also be around somewhere.
Whenever he encounters another's writing, he starts to resist by using it in his own work, or erasing it, putting it in quotation marks, whiting it out. This kind of editing, however, requires care and consideration. What will he do on the day when the text he is editing becomes the text that is the record of himself?
And so things go on, and the man feels unsettled. He wonders what would happen if he wrote that it was in fact himself alone that was authoring the work. At some point the man started writing a novel. But at some point, by mistake, he wrote something about some other man who was also writing a novel. And it was because it was actually the laws of nature that were doing the writing that such a man could exist.
That is when the man realizes it is himself he is writing about, and he alone made the rules. In fact, the man writing about himself could not tolerate the fact that it is he himself being written about. This is also strange in terms of the flow of time, the order of things. But on that plane the order of things is of little significance. On the blank sheet on which the novel is written, anything can happen.
It is clear that if the novelist felt threatened in this way, he should have at once taken measures to protect himself from the rules. For example, he could just write that down. Unfortunately, however, that insight was not his alone. The other writers felt as though they were the writers, and the same thing kept happening over and over.
What's happening now may be just like that.
The differences in this case, however, are that the "writers" are the giant corpora of knowledge that have been singularized with the natural laws of the universe, and human beings are something like the lines of text that are being written.
This is a very interesting analogy, at least according to the giant corpora of knowledge that are running the universe. As structural organisms go, human beings are strange. They have a tendency to take the most obvious things and somehow go off on the strangest tangents, with no logical backing whatsoever.
There are also Hypergiant Knowledge Corps, which are also qualitatively superior to Giant Knowledge Corps. Even one Hypergiant Knowledge Corps is enough to destroy an entire race of Giant Knowledge Corps.At the end of an endless chain of deduction, the client had concluded that they were in someone else's dream. While it was not clear whose dream it was, there was no doubt it was a dream. Time to wake up, sober up, enough of this deceit! they screamed. The character having the dream—wait a minute, if this is a dream there is nothing he can do about it, they thought, slowly opening their eyes and stretching.
The character writing about the giant corpora of knowledge, noticing he is out of mineral water, takes a short break to do some shopping. The girl at the cash register thanks him, as always, and he heads home again in a good mood. But he fails to notice as a truck drives up recklessly from behind him. By the time a shriek alerts him and he turns around, all he can see is the truck's grill.
What if, the giant corpora of knowledge are thinking. What if the physical foundation of our existence is a book? We may go around with a slick-sounding name like giant corpora of knowledge, but really there's not much to us, is there? And maybe there's really not much to us because the writer was a dope. Such were the thoughts of the letters making up the words "giant corpora of knowledge." They would show the guy who wrote this stuff, and the people who were reading it. One of these nights, the letters spelling out "giant corpora of knowledge" would catch fire and start a blaze. They will cause the wind to blow, fanning the pages, turning them as if the book were reading itself, and return to ashes.
It is not known how many of the giant corpora of knowledge were destroyed as a result of this first contact. Eighty-one giant corpora of knowledge suffered confirmed, albeit reparable, damage. If the self-proclaimed star-man Alpha Centauri were to be believed, however, those giant corpora of knowledge that had been destroyed were destroyed so completely as to leave no trace, including any records that they had once existed. There is no method for counting things that fundamentally cannot be counted. The vanished corpora were not simply unknown, they had become entirely unknowable.
Their adversary claimed to be an entity from a hyper2-high-level dimension. What would such a being need with a cutting from the low-level dimensions the giant corpora of knowledge were dealing with? The only way to answer this question would be to ask the self-proclaimed star-man Alpha Centauri, but that avenue of communication seemed to be a one-way street, opened or closed as he saw fit.
"Don't push your luck, Yggdrasil. To me, a giant corpus of knowledge such as yourself is less than a speck of dust of a speck of dust that has fallen into the universe that exists within a speck of dust. I could flick you away without so much as lifting a finger. I wouldn't even have to think about it."
The point is that in SRE the principle "Ladder of Hierarchies" is in force - it is theories creating infinite hierarchies of arbitrary scale, separate elements of which in their turn can contain other ladders themselves, whose steps are qualitatively different from each other and can also include some other compound cosmological models inside, different logical tiers themselves are just steps in existential ladder becoming an element of even bigger hierarchy; the principle of development of hierarchies building up from other ladders has constantly evolved exponentially and qualitatively, like the progression of the Great Cardinal Numbers.It hardly needs to be said that for the giant corpora of knowledge, which have taken charge of the management of, and in fact exercise dominion over, everything in this universe, and in fact beyond, everything in the multiverse, the appearance of the old man was a gut-wrenching experience.
The report Hildegard had provided was made up entirely of rhymed verse and so was practically useless. These poems sang the praises of the light that emanated from Heaven, praised the dancing angels, and praised ladders leading upward to other ladders, upward for many levels.
Laplace's demons were able to comprehend the whole ladder all the way to the end, and reach its end being at the very top of the "Ladder of Hierarchies". But even so the Demons of Laplace have their own infinite hierarchy, where the higher Demon perceives the lower one as a fiction.A landscape in which texts containing truths are swallowed up in a sea of papers. I am imagining, for example, a single strange molecule that may exist in the midst of such a sea.
Or else, it could be that when the Z to Z Theorem ultimately appears, and truth is once again upended, this disturbance will simply blow over. It's fun to think that after that, without theorems or anything like them, the null set may appear, or a Null Set ø Theorem based on that, and from this Null Set ø Theorem the Von Neumann Ordinals: the {ø} Theorem, the {ø ,{ø}} Theorem, the {ø ,{ø, {ø}}} Theorem.
Given a choice, I would choose to be involved with this last. The ø Theorem points toward the Transfinite Number ω Theorem, which could lead to the ω + 1 Theorem, the ω + 2 Theorem, 2ω Theorem, ωω Theorem, etc., etc., a progression of large cardinal numbers.
It is just possible that, via this method, we will reach the realm of theories incomprehensible except with inordinately massive intelligence.
And then one day, at the pinnacle of the limit of this progression, a grave voice will intone that the truth is "42" or some such. Or we will hear the echoes of Professor Moriarty laughing that truth is the Binomial Theorem. And then, in that instant, Sherlock Holmes will interrupt that laughter, and he and the professor will plunge down the waterfall.
Without end.
And perhaps forever. Ad infinitum.
"For us too," Yggdrasil begins. "As I have told you many times in the past, the overview of our plan is not well understood. But we believe the plan will succeed in the end. This belief has a structure comparable to that which is known as Laplace's Demon."
Laplace's Demon is the idea that time is just one of the dimensions in a deterministic system. Everything that will occur in the future is already completely determined by things as they are now and cannot be changed. The demon knows all about the current state of existence, and for that reason the difference between the present and the future has become meaningless.
It is hard to say whether the aphorisms the staff members share among themselves are informed by knowledge or ignorance, whether they show the way to a revolutionary new idea or are mere clichés. It is also possible that at times like this they speak in aphorisms simply out of habit.
"We are capable of comprehending plans such as these. We think this is due to the work of the devil. Given the extent of our facility with calculations, we are closer to Laplace's Demon than we are to any other person that existed in the past. It is because something like this transpired in the past that the devil ascended, moved up a step, and escaped to a place where we could not reach him. However, it is because of the devil's closure, a trick of topology that thinks this stairway through to the end, that our plan was recognized. That is why we are able to think about it and to carry it out. That is our belief.
"In that sense, our plan is an attempt to reenact Laplace's Demon. By reassembling the various fragments of the universe, we will recall the new demon. Our goal is to ensnare and take down the demon that has moved up a step on the logical hierarchy.
Nemo the Ex Machina is the creator of all stories, who has absolute control over the universe, including cosmologies corresponding to all possible stories that can be described by any grammar and mathematics of any logical level. For all that I have described, the Multiverse, the Hierarchy of Hierarchies, the Giant Knowledge Corps, the Hypergiant Knowledge Corps, the Demons of Laplace, is but one story from the infinite number of other stories created by Nemo Ex Machina throughout all eternity.James thinks this way of thinking is nothing more than the giant corpora of knowledge's aspiration. They simply integrate too much leverage structure into their own thought processes. Of course, James is just like a dream of Yggdrasil's. But if that were true, then Yggdrasil is a dream of the demon's, and the demon must be a dream of a higher-level demon. It is Yggdrasil's contention she should be able to pierce through this endless hierarchy of demons and reestablish space-time as a coherent bundle of meaning. That is because, according to Yggdrasil's line of thinking, this thought is the sole interpretation capable of penetrating an infinite number of layers.
My name is Self-Reference Engine.
I am a construction that has never existed, that was never designed from the beginning, to not tell all.
I am the distant successor to those machines that were designed in the beginning: the Difference Engine, the Analytical Engine, the Différance Engine.
I am completely mechanical, completely deterministic, and completely nonexistent.
Or I am Nemo ex machina.
A mechanical nothingness.
There is fundamentally no way of knowing the nonexistence of my nonexistent self. Therefore, it cannot be that what you are seeing is me. Even if I am aware that I am being seen by you. Even if I feel a twinge of regret at this.
By the time they met again, innumerable other events had taken place. The fragmented universe had climbed the ladder, or they themselves had fallen and fragmented, and frozen, and thawed again, and fallen and fragmented and thawed out again. And in the interstices of those occurrences there was buried yet another infinity of stories.
And in the interstices of all these tales lie buried innumerable other tales. That is in fact the reason why all these tales cannot be told. Stories are not a well-ordered set. Between any two given stories lie countless other stories. I know of no method for lining up those stories in some order so they can be told. The best I can do is to focus on a lone story, as though it were a single point, and try to imagine even converging on that point while the stories dance atop stepping-stones.
I find it truly regrettable that the tale of Rita and James is not of a sort that lends itself to this sort of convergence. The story of when those two meet again exists only as a point that lies beyond innumerable tales left in the gaps between any other stories.
A SET OF all possible character strings. All possible books would be contained in that.
Most unfortunately though, there is no guarantee whatsoever you would be able to find within it the book you were hoping for. It could be you might find a string of characters saying, "This is the book you were hoping for." Like right here, now. But of course, that is not the book you were hoping for.
I still don't know either.Just to let you know, none of us have any idea of what you are talking about and what series it's from.
You should be more specific so people can have an idea and trying research it.
VSB does not know about the Self-Reference-Engine.Literally all quick searches lead to either nothing, or VSB.
VSB does not know about the Self-Reference-Engine.
Oh, they did a profile on him, I'm surprised. I'm going to go read what they did there.Self-Reference Engine
vsbattles.fandom.com
No, it's not a series of books. It's pretty short, and yes, the profile is very, very bad, it doesn't explain anything at all.I still don't know where this is from. It looks like a book series.
Could you, like, cite where it is?No, it's not a series of books. It's pretty short, and yes, the profile is very, very bad, it doesn't explain anything at all.
Could you, like, cite where it is?