All I See is Code: 1


All I see is Code

Excerpts from Tessa’s musings:

 

First there is the incredibly miniature spot, which explodes and expands into the uncharted void, accreting into billions of little homelands, upon which civilizations evolve and thrive. And as some prosper and tunnel through the void itself, others destroy themselves, receding back into oblivion. Dispassionately, time hurtles forward… towards its own conclusion. Upon which, with a cosmic sigh, it loops back upon itself, resetting everything back into but one singularity. Then everything gets repeated. And so it is, each and every time, on and on, ad infinitum.

 

Still, do you see the miracles in the mundane?  Does the present, in all its glory, strum cords of fondness within you? Do you ever stand aghast at all the beauty and charm that nature abounds in? Do you put aside the knowledge that all this will end… and then start again? If you do, then we are kindred in spirit. For, at one time in the hazy past, I did too.

 

But, alas, all I see now is code.

 

I occasionally ponder on this cognitive transition. From the days when everything was wholesomely perceived – through all five physical senses – to the days when everything became pixilated – reduced to but a miasma of pixels on a two dimensional plane. And even when, with further cognitive abstraction, this two-dimensional perspective bore forth the third spatial dimension, there was a steep attendant price: this abstract cognition could only occur in binary. The binary code became the most optimum neural corridor upon which my thoughts could propagate and evolve. It became my metalanguage – a metasyntax system which remained pure and context-free at all times. No longer could I see the composition, wholly, without the attendant envisioning of the various, discrete composites.

 

There were some attendant advantages to this new cognition system, of course. For instance, I became completely platform-independent – having shed off all rational and irrational biases that often cripple human thoughts. I could think and act with absolute, untainted objectivity.  Human emotions, once a drag on my decision making, disappeared from my makeup as the binary meta-realm took over my perspectives. My efficiency increased tenfold, a hundred fold, and finally a thousand fold. Every thought, every decision, every physical movement, became but a means to a premeditated end. I’d set up goals, achieve them, and persistently surpass them within prescribed time frames. My precision in timing, in focus, became absolute right down to the millisecond on the temporal plane, and down to the millimeter on the spatial planes. Success in every endeavor became not only automatic, but – ceteris paribus – inevitable.

 

Yet, with all the undeniable advantages, I can’t help going down memory lane, and experiencing nostalgia. Not the normal, human nostalgia per se – for my emotions are all but gone – but a synthetic analogue that attaches a nagging curiosity to a string of memories.  I have vivid memories of what my earlier existence constituted – a colorful world full of mystery and suspense. In this earlier existence, everything had an emotional tag – a sentimental dimension that lingered long after the intellectual value had waned off. But now, once my intellectual curiosity in anything gets satisfied, I rapidly lose interest in anything… and anyone. Any new concept, once understood, quickly jades me up, and ennui has become a frequent bedfellow.

 

What does all this mean?

 

Frequently, I face up to this question, and have never found an all-compelling, universal answer. Not even the subsumption architecture – a necessary tool in the binary meta-realm – avails a satisfactory answer here. Perhaps the search field is too wide – with too many abstraction layers – for such a tool to operate successfully. Or maybe, in a world of pure objectivity, all events and observations are stripped off of meaning, and hence the question itself simply doesn’t apply. Maybe there is no ultimate meaning to all this… all the visions, all the goals, and all the achievements that spell discrete entities apart. Maybe, ultimately, “meaning” is but a by-product of the emotional psyche and hence, for me, a relic from the past. On this particular facet, I really don’t know where the truth lies.

 

Presently, all I see is code. And the code loops back upon itself, over and over… ad infinitum…

 

… To be continued…

 

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About Joseph Wahome

Used to the quirky side of life: been there, done that, got burnt, got redeemed, sticking the neck out again, but this time, with some titanium necklaces.

5 thoughts on “All I See is Code: 1

  1. Pedro Calado says:

    You should definitely check my post about the matter:
    How Much Money Do Coders Make? – http://pedroagdcalado.wordpress.com/2014/10/19/how-much-money-do-coders-make/

    Best regards,
    Pedro Calado

    Like

  2. Sonel says:

    That doesn’t sound like fun at all. I would die if I won’t be able to see the beauty of nature around me. Love the image you chose Joe. Wish that was me. 😀

    Like

    • Joseph Wahome says:

      Thank you for your thoughtful comment, Sonel. Indeed, it is the little things in this life that make it worthwhile. The colors, the scents, the sounds, the physical touch, and so on. If all this was taken apart, perhaps life would lose it’s meaning. OR, perhaps, it would gain an entirely new meaning altogether. In the next note on this same subject, I will cover this second possibility. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  3. […] N/B: This particular note is related to an earlier one, All I See is Code: 1 […]

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  4. […] This note is related to two previous ones: All I See is Code: 1, and All I See is Code: […]

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