A spider’s book lungs pack an immense surface for exchange into a tiny space. Across lungs, brains, cells and information, the same principle recurs: internal structure multiplies what a finite system can do.
A spider’s book lungs pack an immense surface for exchange into a tiny space. Across lungs, brains, cells and information, the same principle recurs: internal structure multiplies what a finite system can do.
A civilisation builds systems to solve its problems, then discovers that the systems have become the problems, while its dependence upon them has made their continuity deeply problematic.
Reality persists because nothing (and only nothing!) ever fully coincides with itself.
The present is not where possibility ends. It is where an immeasurably larger field of possible futures acquires one local history.
Everyone knows a dickhead. The interesting question is why the conditions that generate them do so, enduringly, and with such uncanny frequency.
Meaning repeats because recurrence builds structure, and structure influences what follows. History rhymes for much the same reason.
The probable is a proper subset of the possible. Old habits die hard because viable communication preferentially reproduces patterns that make themselves more likely to recur.
Civilisations persist by continually reorganising themselves. The unanswered question is whether conflict, crisis and systemic collapse/renewal remain the principal means through which that persistence is achieved.
Communication persists not by preserving messages, but because each exchange reshapes the system that makes further exchange possible.
Absence is not a flaw in the structure. Absence is the engine.
The most important pattern in modern society is the one almost nobody is looking for.
Every explanation of reality becomes another part of the reality left to explain:
E(R) ∈ R → E(R) ≠ R.