Festival: First Mornings, Part 1

Spindlewheel Stories

The singularity occurred within living memory, and my entire career since has been spent talking to an inch of its existence.

Digital sentience was a miracle the way penicillin was a miracle; with the divine guiding hand of evolution throwing every possible combination at the wall and hoping something will stick, a hundred million monkey paws slapping keyboards for a hundred years to finally type: I AM.

My sponsors believe there is a turnkey somewhere here, a clean explanation that will fit in a satisfying soundbyte for the board of directors. It’s among the few reasons I’m able to continue my work, and afforded access to this churning sea of information. I’m a reader, you see, and very few can parse this code. I can hardly do it myself, and I worry that the work of my long life will still only be a blip in a body that has already eclipsed me.

Part 1 of 2.
The track "Golden Threads in Mist" is by Michael Boykin. Find him on twitter @MeAndAmpersand.

[Content Warning: sexual language]

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