Thursday 26 July 2012

Notes: 26/07/2012

I have decided against putting the whole book online. I appreciate that there's an audience out there who may benefit, but I have an overriding nostalgia for books. Thick, heavy tomes, full to the brim with knowledge. I shall be sending it instead to a publisher. However, I feel that I should probably summarise the gist of it for audiences here.

Plato devised a thought experiment - a hypothetical apparatus used in philosophy - referred to as the allegory of the cave. He hypothesised a world where a community lived only in a cave, unexposed to the world outside. All they knew of the world was in that cave. And through a hole in the wall, shapes of various things were projected onto the wall. The people of the cave, since they only had experience of these imperfect representations, would assume that these projections were the real thing. He used this to explain his theories on mathematical reality (the situation wherein mathmatically accurate geometric forms and the like cannot genuinely exist in the real world) and furthermore about consciousness and memory. He posited that knowledge is external, and that we can only discover it, not generate it ourselves, and that it exists in a plane beyond reality, which contains inaccuracy and imperfection. Further thinkers expanded this to state that all knowledge exists collected on another plane of existance, called the Akashic Records. This contains a perfect form of all the knowledge in the world.

Of course, if one were to look at Kurt Godel's incompleteness theorems, or the philosophy of Decartes and Hume, we are forced to admit that there is no knowledge, not really. We take everything on faith, build upon central assumptions that cannot be tested. We cannot confirm that our senses are not lying to us. We cannot confirm that we are not the only truly sentient being in the world, or that we are not truly sentient and genuine sentience contains aspects we cannot imagine. We cannot prove conclusively that x=x. Simply put, the true limits of a system cannot be tested from within that system.Arithmatic cannot be used to prove arithmatic.

When one grasps this, one thinks; in the mathematic realm, where infinity lies between any two values, what are the chances that x genuinely equals exactly x? If one were to imagine a genuine, externally realised true reality, there are many millions of possibilities for truth on which we build from just one. We say x=x, and not any of the infinite values even slightly to either side. In short, the foundations for all of our experience of the world are probably wrong. And the effects of this, building upon this sinking foundation, would rattle in a supreme corruption throughout human knowledge and experience.

Where is this corruption found?

In a being for whom even experience thereof is a weapon to be used against you.

In a being of such incompatible truth that your mind strains and buckles trying to restrain it, and keep it within rational bounds.

In a being seemingly constructed from many different concrete concepts and ideas, but consistent in none.

I believe that between the truth of the Akashic records and the reality of the world behind us, growing like some deep black rot, is the Slender Man. A corruption of the world around him, who twists and warps reality and uses truth as a weapon, and who shatters everything we rationally know, the cracks spreading out like great tendrills.


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I am glad the manuscript is on its way to my publisher. The children have drawn something dark here. It has not been true for a long time - not even with the attacks on the camera crew - that I have truly been scared for my life. But I am now.

Monday 16 July 2012

Notes: 16/07/2012

There's dissent amongst the ranks. The child who was looking for me. She's locked in their hotel room. Tied up most of the time. Clearly whatever she's doing, they object to it. Maybe they don't want her looking for me. Maybe they're His agents.

The other two are interesting. The boy, the one who's missing an arm snapped. He's been shouting at the other girl lot. One gets the impression that only half of this is aggression over the girl, though.

They haven't even noticed me watching.

The book is finished. I might share a piece of it sometime.

Thursday 5 July 2012

Notes 05/07/2012

Suddenly some activity in this godforsaken town.

Three poppets, fresh and eager, trying to find god only knows what.

Except that I'm fairly certain one of them is trying to find       m         e        .

One of His watchers has been making an appearence too. Tall, ragged. The usual facial covering. It's been dark, so I can't discern much else.

It's a good job the new book is coming to a close. I feel a deadline approaching.

And the Pallid Mask enters stage left.