In that cold and frigid air
Laid waiting with steel eyed stare
A thing of beauty fair
Yet also of nightmare's lair

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Autumn reflection
On a lonely twilight day
Still calling inside

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Nutty and rich
Delightful steam
An autumn dream

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Bursting from green
Into yellow
Ochre and brown

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A new day knocks
On the shutters
Sunshine beckons
To go explore

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“I gotta get out, out of Frac­tal City, clear my head, refresh my synapses, go down to Blue Water City. Blue Water City, so clean you can dip into any pud­dle and come out fresher than the morn­ing dew. Gotta take a dive, make a splash, wash it all off and rinse it down, that grime, that crime, those cal­cu­lated abnor­mal­i­ties. It’s sim­ple, it’s smooth, it’s the per­fect shape. Dome after dome per­fect clar­ity, absolute trans­parency, no dis­par­ity. It’s all the same, no shame, no blame. It’s straight­for­ward, no cor­ners, no edges. It’s plain, no strain, no pain. I jump right in, into the blue. No need to look behind, it’s all in front of me; no sur­prises, no dis­guises, no need to make com­pro­mises. I gotta get out, I am going down to Blue Water City, I am going to town, make a splash, won’t leave any trash, it’s so clean, it has that sheen of per­fect ingenuity.”

A follow-up to the previous post once published on my now closed down short story blog. The picture is an almost microscopic shot of water drops.

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Fractal City, originally uploaded by Thorsten Becker.

“Fractal City, a dirty pit of infinite geometric forms and grids of mathematical patters. Where binary thugs come at analogue signals in precisely calculated intervals, where Mandelbrot crime lords reign supreme over lesser iterations. The lowest common denominator here is that you can always count on some algebraic crime going down somewhere within the statistically accurate back alleys. Pie charts smile at you while some lower function mugs you from behind.

And then there is Julia, beautiful, mesmerizing Julia, in all her holomorphic beauty. She is cold and calculating and every half witted calculus in this town is functionally in love with her. But if they dare to add themselves too closely they're quickly subtracted from the general populace. She is Big Daddy Chaos's sugar babe. She always was, she'll always be, infinitely.

And me? I am just a shadow of the function I used to be. But I still have some subroutines up my sleeve, some of the kind others would delete for. I watch, I calculate, I investigate.

So long my analogue friend, I am off executing another procedure. Trace on...”

A homage to a few of my favorite things: classic film noir, crime novels and the beauty of mathematics as found in nature and replicated in computer science, all combined in slightly abstract piece of prose. Posted this once before on my defunct short story blog.

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