Before Orion's Mist
Sophia was afloat somewhere, blind as a bat suspended in a cavern. She could not see, She could not hear, She could no longer sense the tremor that had launched Her plunge. The sense of its delectible pull was gone, and in its place was nothing to attract Her any more, and nothing to resist. Somewhere, cast out into a neuter zone, She was far from the Pleroma, lost and alone.
Numb and senseless, She hovered before Orion's Mist.
No Aeon ever felt like this, like a vast and sprawling blotch. Without the play of streaming lines to define Her intent , Sophia felt all Her magnificent currents go slack. She was at loose ends, awkward and awry. So strange it was for an Aeon to feel vacuous and spent. Yet it was vacuity that turned on a dull internal spin, as if pivoting around a soft, queasy center. Sophia sensed a vague churning motion and realized what She had become: a flaccid spot, a churning blotch that turned inanely on itself with a slow, blind, hesitant momentum. All She could do was watch, without really seeing, just how She was so bizarrely suspended, as if caught in a net, or as if She Herself were a net gathered massively into a tangled knot.
Strange venture for an Aeon, to have become such a blot.
Then slowly Sophia came around to a dawning sensation, the impression that She had a fine metallic skin, a sheen that felt like armor pricked with weightless dust. The skin spread and She felt external movement of a sort. Her passion flickered back to life and then subsided again, and there was no way She could rally it. She knew then that Her desire had pulled Her from the Pleromic core, and somewhere out there in the sprawling limbs, She had simply splattered. Yet She felt anything but loose. Somewhere deep down in that dull churning motion, a torsion was building, a tension She had never known or dreamed of knowing.The tension kept growing like a storm inside Her, yet all She felt around Her was the crawling prickle of that odd metallic skin, like an invasive mist She was breathing in.
The odd sensation peaked. Pressure filled Her splattered form and expanded from within. Still dazed, disoriented, Sophia dimly felt a shimmer of radiation rush across the surface She had become, whatever that surface might be - and slowly, slowly See began to see.
The throbbing pink smoky flush of Orion's Mist...For a moment Sophia was distracted. The power returning to Her gaze was drawn away from the glittering skin of radiation that encased Her, drawn toward that smoky flush. For an instant, without knowing what She saw, She beheld the terrible deep maw of elementary flux, the awesome dema melding in Orion's Mist. Dark elementary matter in arrays, the batter churning in dense cataracts through the galactic limbs and, like a scarf in tow from a whirling carousel, the figure of Atu Kadmon tumbled in a soft molecular glow.
Then Her vision broke open with a bolt of excruciating pain, yet it was pleasure to absorb the pain and come awake again, a pleasure to behold what She was turning into. Strangely, the ripples of sensation that spread around Her did not move at all, yet they multiplied as if they were moving. The waves were self-composing, yet not in the way familiar to Her, not similar to the sublime and lively play of Her currents, the torrents of divine delight that compose an Aeon. No, this was composition on a endless rigid curving plane, some kind of propagation frozen in time, fixed in space.
Now the distraction from Orion stopped. And what She saw, in the last moment that She saw it, became also a sound. And then Her hearing popped. What She heard then She had never heard before and almost could not endure, so awful was the sound. The teeming mist hung in Orion's loin emitted noise, a droning terrible and deep. The agony of metals in cold fusion screamed from the mist and struck Her with a high-pitched screech like the plaint of immense cicadas. Had She been made of flesh of any kind, this sonic tumult would have torn it all away. The vast pulsations pummelled Her in waves, in jarring, jagged chords of horrific dissonance.
Sophia now went straight from stupefaction into shock.The sweet careening hum of the galactic core, the soft drum-pulse of the Oirginator, were sounds She bore within Her as an Aeon - at least She had borne them internally, 'til now. But the din of Orion's Mist was overwhelming to Her internal bore. Her finely calibrated tonic core was breaking down in the presence of that nebular eruption.
But even as Her core was in collapse, Sophia felt Her boundaries growing tight, approaching a formation of sorts: a zepellin grotesque, a bulbous figure-eight covered with warts. Squeezed at the neck into a shrinking head and bloating body , the eight half strangulated Her - but the constriction made a clearing, a calm within the chaos all around. It cleared Her hearing and centered Her against the massive din that had been pouring in from the angle of Orion's Mist. Oddly, Sophia felt contained, and even safe, although the sprouting warts produced, each one, a riveting effect like a cold-burning contusion.
What confusion reigned in this new-found order! What was happening now?
She bobbed and felt sublime, and felt the bobbing slow into a null effect, as if a massive black oblate rebounding in a net got settled in the mesh and came to rest: Sophia produced the Mandelbrot Set.
Becoming still at last, Sophia beheld with growing fascination the rigid borders that defined the sea of fractal propagation.
The patterns She beheld were waves that froze as they arose. Each wave when it mounted toward a crest turned into other waves resembling it, and these waves made a chain. And in the act of cresting, each wave curved upon itself and imitated how the chain was forming. Then the chains in turn unfurled and curled into the self-repeating forms they had escaped, the propagation of the self-conforming waves.
Around Sophia it seemed like multitudes of seahorses were swarming.
Sophia was awake now, but paralyzed. The vast black and bloated cocoon She had become looked out in all directions, but all She saw was one infinite plane inclined from somewhere out of sight. The spectacle made Her feel a little giddy, and not without delight. The pleasure She now felt was mixed with foreboding, though, for the pleasure returned Her to a primal knowing, the way Aeons alone can know - by esthetic kenning. Instantly She knew what She was seeing: the very conversion of Her forces into endless chains of cascading seahorses.
The forms She watched were tensile, the erupting seahorses resembled glittering scales on a metallic skin, its underside a spectral green. She realized this was Her skin, or what She had felt to it to be, before She beheld the vastness of the fractal sea. The skin of metals formed and folded, furled and enfolded, spreading as far as the sea itself along the infinite incline. In fractal generation a grainy light emerged, a greenish crystal glow compelled Her gaze, and to Her amazement each seahorse became an embryo.
Sophia was alarmed, for the propagation now looked immensely live. The enchained embryos took on the allure of something living, but they were not so in themselves, only as animated by Her mounting attention. Enthroned in the black cocoon of the Mandelbrot Set, She sensed ever more clearly how each chain of embryonic forms was Her outgrowth, the progeny of Her own powers though not of Her intent, umbilically nested in the dema zone: Archons emerging.
The frozen reaches of the fractal sea became increasingly dense and agitated. With a tight sensation almost like fear, Sophia saw the embryos pitch and yawl, reacting to a second propagation, the independent wind and whirl of serpent cords attaching to their bowels. The cords had heads like biting skulls and long entwining tails that fed on the black depths of the fractal sea, pulling the embryos out of their passive float, their finger-sucking bobble in oblivion. The cords were wound in grainy knots of greenish light, wound tight and growing tighter at the tails, while at the heads they bit into a grain of metallic light, something the embryos clutched to their torsos as if it were precious fruit, but could not retain. The fetal and the drakonic forms were locked in violent rictus, joined in the friction of self-simulation.
Sophia's gaze softened the edges of what She beheld: Archons alive with snakey wiles, a reptilian horde in the three-billionth iteration.(Commentary, ETArchon Navigator)
A God Insane
Thus She was mother to an alien legion, Sophia from the Aeons, whose wisdom was still to bring forth the human world, its tender edge, it singular design.
As reptiles and embryons unfurled in fractal waves across the frozen metallic sheen in the Atum limbs, Sophia saw a signal glint emerge from the direction of Orion's Mist. In the molecular cloud there was a massive bang, and then a rushing sound like gold would make being poured into an ingot as long as massive as the bed of the Nile. From the nebular maw She saw a borning sun flare up, and immediately the fractal sea recoiled into an isolated point where one reptilian form affixed itself, confronting the entire swarm of fetal Archons.
"Yaldabo," Sophia cried, calling the entity by the manner it arose, in reaction to the bright explosion of the borning star. "Yah, the bold one who confronts the face of Da'ath, the blue-light sun."
Indeed, Yaldabo was extremely bold, taking his arrogance from the borning sun but knowing not what he did. A lion-like head ablaze with solar fire, his torso a glittering serpent green. Sophia watched him prance and preen, a violent blot of color on the rippling sea of metallic waves, and then, suddenly, She saw the sea entire contort in heavy throes and spin into a whorl, but not a world, not yet a place for Atu Kadum to emerge. The whorl was winding from Orion, pinwheeled on the borning star, and Yaldobo, reacting from afar, took the expanding disk to be his own reflection. Looking around him, he declared, "This is the void I fill, the cosmos entire, and I alone am Lord of the celestial zone. Lo and behold, the spinning wheels that I control."
Sophia watched and felt no horror, but no affection, either. Only a kind of dumb-founded fascination. If truth be told, this was the first animal She ever made, but he was formed devoid of Her intent, outside the Dreaming She so longed to pour into a world where Atu Kadmun would grow wise and happy, becoming human in the lovely limbs of Atum. For consolation, She pondered on that human emanation to emerge where Orion's Mist displayed a faint, alluring stain.
Meanwhile, She was face to face with a God insane.
JLL Oct 2004
Episode 12: The Mother Star
Episode 13: Anthropic Fire
Episode 14: The Template Sheared
Episode 15: In Roiling Mauve
Episode 16: Foetal Attraction