lets imagine a mathematician

lets imagine a mathematician that we construct not from human society according to the present dominant model but words  poets and politicians tortuously create alternative realities from their desires and also shouldnt we  whatever we are  make mathematicians from ours? for arent our desires arithmetic and by entering them and listening to the hidden voices of numbers whisper not the truth but truths of their desires we return to seeking opennesses toward the numbers of which we are comprised and while not ours somehow possess us?

as we manufacture a biography for our odd and even friend we notice its preeminent trait is a kind of nonexistence we find difficult to properly classify  it might have a rare disease maybe even if were fortunate one not yet invented  it might belong to those books about nonbeing in which nonbeing fails  it might have been diagnosed with any of those endless pathologies routinely being created by established experts to justify themselves and suppress spirit   but its not this attribute that primarily interests us  as the crux of a matter is rarely found in preeminence but shades  where few go to escape the glare of names   and so we find our linguistic creature of number lounging under a sycomore tree with a bunch of leadmunching phoebastria immutabilis smoking whatever you wish to put in its mouth and brooding on the personalities of numbers through the poetic functions of their names

its name  though number in its names shifty  might be  

and in its mind strings like lets not attempt to unite with the godhead in the manner of the mystics of old but zero with the zerohead and death toos a number

its devoted a universe of nights to studying the masters of math and knows they cancel one another like a fine equation  for isnt a mathematician like a poet a maker of patterns and isnt mathematics the art of giving the same name to different things while giving different names to the same thing and cant we say as truthfully as truth is said its the science of skillful operations with concepts and rules invented just for the purpose of skillful operations and would we be wrong to postulate it  like any core human quest  is a subject in which we never know what were talking about nor whether what were saying is true and to have faith that the more games we study the better   a subspecialty of fiction  a mythological and social construct  a dispensability and body of falsehoods not talking about anything real   and a mathematician a blind person in a dark room looking for a black cat who isnt there?

our hyperspherical collegiality applies the ancient science of nymhematology to number  the res ors roes ozes and os in zero  that o of no beginning or end at its end curving to meet an end of a beginning  that z  forming an oz  wærloga of empty illusion  thaumaturge of destiny and mind  the one we fear to consult but consult we must in times of greatest duress  for if we neglect this duty it comes unbidden and this unentreated agitation might be history but hardly wisdom

zero exists most fully among the numbers and ones a radiant nothing

it sees the no in one  the ive in five  neins in nines   it bumbles toward the creation of a logic in which two and two make six or nineteen  not in the manner of despots or avatars of dereliction to justify subjugation but for the failure thats a multitude of freedoms

i walk into the valley of number and fear no counting

for thy gaffe and bawd are with me

knowing that two to be two too must be nottwo

and what it is is most explicitly not itself

while what its not manifests infinitely

and 

of inestimable repositories  no compass within bound or far or near  dediagnosed and semelessly vitrescent  trace hieratic hollows in shadowed absences

     

the sadoo metro

heres a map of the sadoo metro whichll help unfamiliar unreaders get around novel

while these maps may appear to be the same to an untrained eye

theyre wholly different in substance and effect

and one who follows two will move in places alien to one who follows one

coming soon to a novel near you

lets imagine a mathematician

dao de jing 15

mystykomydy

relighting on flor

vorts

wrapping up this chapter of visual acuity

unwrapping that chapter of fruits and vegetables

a theology of mathematick

numbers go peculiar in the years after the takings and always they lack the power to get away

its because of the names some say numbers were never designed to be caged in definitions

nine seduces me at the cosine hex club with an unexpected angle and the fictions are complex enough to create imaginary persons arising as structures to perceive realities existing in these abstract entities such that quantity becomes a physical quality of word

as soon as you abduct a number from its natural home  seize it from the intuitive lands  and give it over to graspability  regardless of how comfortable its life might become  its innate vitality diminishes and what you then might see is not anything of the number but your own insecurities

everyone knows the estrangement between theology and mathematics  number and god  mysticism and science  counting and oneiricism  has been growing and is bad for human and planetary health

as the poets say all is war but what they dont tell us is that the only wars between words and numbers  a war neither can win and humans forced to take sides and the pay poor and any promotion is to death  and so humans fight one another on behalf of forces indifferent to them  being used indiscriminately for prelapsarian purposes

pythagoras roaming in the ecstatic geometry of its cultic esotatica knows in its viscera the sanctitude of manifolds and the one thats present in all  not just the many ones but nines and fours and sixes and fractures and even the odd zero in its joyful bashfulness and witty modesty prowling among the conjecturing shapes

that numbers in their potent abstractionality are incapable of or refuse to dialogue easefully with other creatures in the spiritual realms could only be a conviction of the insane

numbers draw me into a dream and i see science leave its lab and go walking into the forest and there loses time and drops its measure

i enter the zeroversity of number and a curriculum garishly poses   patalinguistic theolunacies of number  some phenomenologies of zero  the interpretations of dreams of affine transformations  probabilistic geometries of an absent god  the nonexistence of one  ratio as mind  the middle of number  zeroverses of i  were all uncanny mathematicians   with as much seriousness and credibility as proofs of tessellated fields of the boundedness of optimal differentials by moduli cohomologies in equidistributed perfectoids lacking automorphic normalizations

i approach the notwill of number and in their sleepiness and drunkenness voyeur as they copulate on beds of questions  in their notness slumbering in crises of identity  chatting with them when theyre young and silly and full of possibility  before assuming hard social identities

give a child of a certain age two blocks and ask it how many blocks there are and what will it say? two perhaps  one  even three or nine or zero  it might say blue or silly jammies or monster nothing halafaf   it wouldnt be wrong   the child knows that counting  while existing quite legitimately on rationalitys enclosed steppes  is nomadic  comfortable in many environs and curves  whereas the adult has typically come to know that rational realm as numbers only habitat  its cage of action and determinant of time & destiny

one sun  one moon  one god  one love  one pole  one the  one one

no one on fucking jupiters a monist

the number of memberships in number a number maintains varies according to contextual data no one has full access to

my mathematics is the purest mathematics  far purer than the pure  for it cant be used for anything  even pleasure or beauty  maintaining a radical separation from the human love of destruction

writing number isnt something you can do until you see number strip in a galactic burlesque and laugh alongside its horny wit and ionic vacancies

all numbers  like justice love madness suffering  are uncountable

number a novel writes me and i decount the countings and decant the war