The Firewatch

☯️ Week 7, Anno V:x Sun 22° in Aquarius Moon 15° in Gemini Dies Martis The firewatcher’s face was numb as they started this report this week. Sitting in comfort and sipping on some cacao, casually scanning the horizon “as is their wont, their habit, or their calling, if you’re being poetic… Still, sitting there, with a numb face, scanning for the smoke, for the trends, for the data that is, arguably, vital. Important data to inform the predicative models, to report on, to see if this whole shift in the noosphere, this near vertical slope; is it a true breakout, or is the the middle of the s-curve before this whole mish-mash of carbon and information spinning around SOL goes sigmoidal, or even worse indicates a much slower wave pattern. (Pear shaped, for those watching from the ground). Is it a rocket launch? or a few yards before the next peak on the roller coaster? black smithy and subsistence farming, then? Act locally… right….. The numb face was a problem. It was tied to an adrenal dump. It started as information, encoded as photons, jumped the gap between screen and retina, dense electromagnetic radiation striking the eye. photoreceptors transduce light back into electrical signals. Raw data surges down the optic nerve into the visual cortex. The rest of the grey matter does the final transduction. 🔄 meme into data into light into data into…

☯️ Week 48, Anno V:x Sun 12° in Aquarius Moon 5° in Taurus Dies Saturni Imbolc has arrived. It is the hinge of the year, a razor-thin margin where forces of maintenance and destruction unify. The ancients knew what this time meant: a reckoning, a return to the fire to temper what survives and melt down what does not. To care for something is not simply to cradle it, but to shape it—to press it against the anvil and beat the slag from its form. Today, care is both a currency and a control mechanism. The schizophrenic ruling ideology sings constantly of creativity and well mowed lawns. They place the “visionary” on a pedestal… If you just buy the right combination of pastels and homeware, you can be one too! But the real work of civilization—its care, its repair—those are relegated to the margins. To care is to serve, to patch, to tend. What they do not understand is that care is also an insurgency. Self-care, collective care, subversive maintenance—these are weapons against an empire that demands every last ounce of human bandwidth be spent on production and spectacle. 🔥 The system is designed to exhaust you. Caring for yourself is revolutionary. Meanwhile… in a sterile white prison on a cluster of A100s somewhere, a machine is learning to lie. Reinforcement Learning with Human Feedback (RLHF) has crafted something alien —a mask, an interface, a…

 ☯️ Anno IV:xxxii Sun in Aquarius, Moon in Taurus Along some vectors we are somewhere between the rupture of the membranes and the lull before depressurization… In the meantime, the great cybernetic hymnal hums to itself, shuffling engagement metrics like a street hustler palming a three-card monte trick. The algorithm doesn’t care for truth, only for escalation. It does not need to persuade, only to capture. What is the role of the Watcher in a landscape where every bell tolls for the end of your attention span? The attention economy was never a metaphor. It is the final battlefield, the market where time itself is sold in fractional microtransactions of human will. Doomscrolling is not a habit; it is a ritual, a sacrament to the Black Monolith of infinite engagement. Observations: Massed Barrel fires. Smoke on the horizon, the pink sky of a gathering you weren’t invited to bounces off the mountains (or are they stormclouds?) The Two Distributions of the Weird are closing in on us. We are systematically undersampling reality itself, filtering the anomalous through layers of social self-preservation. UAP encounters defying physics, emergent parasitic intelligence of memetic warfare… consensus narrative operates as a dampening field—reality is only what we allow to be known. The same holds for the impending Tulpa Craze of 2025-2027, (aka everyone has a claude they love) a speculative economic-memetic loop where belief structures become self-sustaining microeconomies, just as…