syn·site

sin.sīt
noun, verb

(1) an entangled situating, conjured in approximation

naughty-site–knotty-sight—cited-knot–sighted-naught—naughty-cited-sight–knotty-cited-site—sited-cited-naughty-knot–knotted-knighted-sited-naught—sighted-knot-cited–sited-not-naught

that approximation, translated and re-presented (2)

(1) an entangled situating, conjured in approximation

naughty-site–knotty-sight—cited-knot–sighted-naught—naughty-cited-sight–knotty-cited-site—sited-cited-naughty-knot–knotted-knighted-sited-naught—sighted-knot-cited–sited-not-naught

that approximation, translated and re-presented (2)

SYN (along with, at the same time | from Greek SYN, with | ~SYNTHETIC) + SITE (N: point of event, occupied space, internet address; V: to place in position | from Latin SITUS, location, idleness, forgetfulness | ~WEBSITE ¬cite ¬sight), cf. SITE/NON-SITE (from Robert Smithson, A PROVISIONAL THEORY OF NONSITES, 1968)

the noise seems immediately suggestive of another dimension's alien strangeness. A dimension out of which ghoulish and unnatural things might flicker and ooze.

the noise seems immediately suggestive of another dimension's alien strangeness. A dimension out of which ghoulish and unnatural things might flicker and ooze.

the noise seems immediately suggestive of another dimension's alien strangeness. A dimension out of which ghoulish and unnatural things might flicker and ooze.

apophenia...drawing connections and conclusions from sources with no direct connection other than their indissoluble perceptual simultaneity. This apophenia, a seeing of patterns where there is actually only noise, is neither a failure of imagination nor a virtue, but rather an unavoidable qualification of our predicament and its (only partially decipherable) aftermath.

apophenia...drawing connections and conclusions from sources with no direct connection other than their indissoluble perceptual simultaneity. This apophenia, a seeing of patterns where there is actually only noise, is neither a failure of imagination nor a virtue, but rather an unavoidable qualification of our predicament and its (only partially decipherable) aftermath.

apophenia...drawing connections and conclusions from sources with no direct connection other than their indissoluble perceptual simultaneity. This apophenia, a seeing of patterns where there is actually only noise, is neither a failure of imagination nor a virtue, but rather an unavoidable qualification of our predicament and its (only partially decipherable) aftermath.

It is the glitch that incites anticipation—that ecstasy of interference. An immersive différence, in the purest sense of the French translation—both “difference” and “defer” alike.

It is the glitch that incites anticipation—that ecstasy of interference. An immersive différence, in the purest sense of the French translation—both “difference” and “defer” alike.

It is the glitch that incites anticipation—that ecstasy of interference. An immersive différence, in the purest sense of the French translation—both “difference” and “defer” alike.

In the place of the ever-changing cloud that we carried in our heads until the other day, the condensing and dispersal of which we attempted to understand by describing impalpable psychological states and
shadowy landscapes of the soul – in the place of all this we now feel the rapid passage of signals on the intricate circuits that connect the relays, the diodes, the transistors with which our skulls are crammed.

In the place of the ever-changing cloud that we carried in our heads until the other day, the condensing and dispersal of which we attempted to understand by describing impalpable psychological states and
shadowy landscapes of the soul – in the place of all this we now feel the rapid passage of signals on the intricate circuits that connect the relays, the diodes, the transistors with which our skulls are crammed.

In the place of the ever-changing cloud that we carried in our heads until the other day, the condensing and dispersal of which we attempted to understand by describing impalpable psychological states and
shadowy landscapes of the soul – in the place of all this we now feel the rapid passage of signals on the intricate circuits that connect the relays, the diodes, the transistors with which our skulls are crammed.

There was something distant and alive in the depths of the white noise - a living glide of thoughts swimming forward, a moving body of concepts and half felt images.

There was something distant and alive in the depths of the white noise - a living glide of thoughts swimming forward, a moving body of concepts and half felt images.

There was something distant and alive in the depths of the white noise - a living glide of thoughts swimming forward, a moving body of concepts and half felt images.

Glitches, feedback, white noise, interference, static - although these may not be the final frontier, they are demonstrably - for now - the edge. [...] Cyberspace is now the error-space. The place where pixels crash against each other in chaos.

Glitches, feedback, white noise, interference, static - although these may not be the final frontier, they are demonstrably - for now - the edge. [...] Cyberspace is now the error-space. The place where pixels crash against each other in chaos.

Glitches, feedback, white noise, interference, static - although these may not be the final frontier, they are demonstrably - for now - the edge. [...] Cyberspace is now the error-space. The place where pixels crash against each other in chaos.

Imagine a sentence. “I went looking for adventure.”

Imagine another one. “I never returned.”

Now imagine a sentence gradient between them—not a story, but a smooth interpolation of meaning. This is a weird thing to ask for! I’d never even bothered to imagine an interpolation between sentences before encountering the idea in a recent academic paper. But as soon as I did, I found it captivating, both for the thing itself—a sentence… gradient?—and for the larger artifact it suggested: a dense cloud of sentences, all related; a space you might navigate and explore.

Imagine a sentence. “I went looking for adventure.”

Imagine another one. “I never returned.”

Now imagine a sentence gradient between them—not a story, but a smooth interpolation of meaning. This is a weird thing to ask for! I’d never even bothered to imagine an interpolation between sentences before encountering the idea in a recent academic paper. But as soon as I did, I found it captivating, both for the thing itself—a sentence… gradient?—and for the larger artifact it suggested: a dense cloud of sentences, all related; a space you might navigate and explore.

Imagine a sentence. “I went looking for adventure.”

Imagine another one. “I never returned.”

Now imagine a sentence gradient between them—not a story, but a smooth interpolation of meaning. This is a weird thing to ask for! I’d never even bothered to imagine an interpolation between sentences before encountering the idea in a recent academic paper. But as soon as I did, I found it captivating, both for the thing itself—a sentence… gradient?—and for the larger artifact it suggested: a dense cloud of sentences, all related; a space you might navigate and explore.