Electric man The elvish face reflected a man who was once a handsome legend. He studied it for a while noting the spacing, obeying the golden ratio 1.618. He stared deeply into his image, searching for coherence. Looking into eyes that have seen the growth of his own vision. Shifting his gaze to the propped window of room 3327 he shuffled his tired feet over, and craned his neck to see out. Street noise from below littered his mind, once he could pick out the individual hum of a gear in his generators, calculate the resonant frequency in his mind and make appropriate adjustments. Now all the noise irritated his dulled senses. His last remaining friend landed on the sill of the musty hotel room, cooing and looking for a handout, the misunderstood genius dug in his trousers to find a few bread crumbs. Receiving the gift, the bird fluttered off. "You're welcome my friend" he said, with a crackled voice. Looking over to the stained oak hutch, the only remnant of his lab, he began to visualize a new invention. At first the noise of his thoughts clattered like dishes in the busy kitchen down below. Then a tone of coherence found its root, followed by an overtone at a perfect third, then a chord of three with the fifth. His mind concocted everything in a beautiful harmony, a masterpiece of perfection almost unimaginable to any other. But then, this was the problem. Once the work was finished in his head, he struggled to manifest it in the real world. Perfectionism is a blessing and a curse. ---Dedicated to N. Tesla.

the gods The gods or icons exist to shame us. We look up to them and they shit on our heads. We like this, it has been the way for humans. Without hierarchy comes ineffectiveness. There is no better or worse, wrong or right. These are arbitrary labels placed to form reference. The power that humans possess is the ability to observe. I asked god why I'm here, then the answer came: (godlike voice) TO SEE SOMETHING I build the universe by first observing it, then forming opinions on it. I see a reference and make a measurement. The equation is balanced. Without me there is no god, without god there is no me. Use your power, change your mind.

You are sitting in a small chamber. The only light above and directly behind your head is a monochromatic red light aprox 640nm In front of you a small metallic cart which has one object on it. Its cold brushed surface reflects the sickly red light in the room. You sit in a chair which has been designed for the dmv. Uncomfortable, you glance around. On the second shelf of the stainless cart you see a cube. As you reach forward to examine it a wave of familiar memories strikes a chord in your mind. This is the rubiks cube that sat unsolved on your bookshelf for years. It eventually found its way to a garage sale, then magically to this room. It sits before you, mocking with its shades of gray. There is no hue in here only luminance. The chair screeches against the rutted tile floor as you stand up to examine your cell. The sound causes your hands to curdle and slowly fades in small room reverb wash. The red light appears to be coming from a fixture in the ceiling which is sealed by a metal grate. You gaze around with limited depth perception and shallow moves. There is no way out. You are inside a sealed box. Your breath begins to stricken, shorten, flutter. Will you run out of air soon? This can't be happening In a burst of pent up nervous energy you hurtle the cart against the wall, splattering it on the cold hard surface. A clatter of sound sweeps the small cell, deforming the corner of the cart as it ricochets on its side. Then silence, deafening silence. The rubiks cube finds its resting inertia in a corner near the chair. Waiting for input. A component of reality, a box within a box. What do you do?