notlydialovelace
The None, The Nonely
Concordia
When I first arrived in the oft-lauded Concordia, city of contrivance, it was by gondola. The gondolier in question was a strange sort of contraption, consisting of a suspension of gears, screws, and winches, which altogether were driven by the unseen running of some creature or another within a metal wheel. As the wheel turned, so too in quite elaborate fashion, was the oar maneuvered about. I was at first transfixed by the nature of the contraption itself, that was so seemingly-painstakingly engineered for so esoteric and mundane, as well as to mention, haphazard a purpose. But in my careful study of how the movements of one element were redirected into a corresponding but altogether distinct movement of another, I came to realize that the true artistry was not the mad genius---supposing there was only one such figure, that they were what one might call a genius, and it would not be indelicate to refer to them as being mad---who had devised the assemblage, but in the mind of the unseen animal who drove the whole affair. Somehow, it had become accustomed to the route even never having seen it, not perhaps being able to hold the idea of a gondola within its less-developed mind, were it even permitted to learn, such as it was capable, of how its movements on the wheel indirectly dictated the pace and course of the craft it was bound to. Perhaps it had not even the inkling that if it should make a wrong move it had no prior concept to even anticipate its far more insignificant footfalls would necessarily inspire in the oar, that the craft might capsize, and it would drown. Or perhaps out of necessity, these animals had realized this fact through arcane methods, and therefore, comported themselves however they might, but for to avoid every such choice that would lead to such an unfortunate result.
Throughout the ride, I was thoroughly transfixed by the nature of the contraption and further in the digestion within my own mind of what must be just so to make it thus, in this fixation, I neglected to take note of even the most talked-about landmarks of the city from the vantage of the maze-like river-ways surrounding it, and only upon depositing my ducats in the small slot astride the gondolier's wheel and stepping onto terra firma, did I realize that I was now too close to the buildings to see them in their proper glory. As well as that, though the ride of the gondola was remarkably uneventful for how many steps removed and obscured its semi-witting pilot was from its ultimate motions, it was a bit bumpy.
Once within the city itself, I found myself once again enthralled by how the carriages that one saw in the streets were orchestrated. Every carriage had, in place of where the horses normally would lead it, instead was a fully articulated metal sculpture---I know not a better word for what I saw, though the idea of a sculpture inadequately expresses what I saw, for its novelty outstripped such a prosaic description. Though unlike the oar, there was no hidden rodentia in a wheel somewhere, but instead, whether more or less aptly I have no ability to say, a horse behind the cart, whose movements were linked through metal rods to precise emulation in the sculpture ahead of the cart. Now not being of enough of a caliber in the realm of the natural sciences to judge how the forces thereby conveyed might pull a cart that the driving element---the true horse, and not its simulacrum---could only be seen by a layperson as pushing, I shall remain silent.
Quite interestingly, a detail which I noticed only after observing for longer, was that the passengers in the cart between the horse and its metallic mimic, were themselves a mimicry---likewise, constructed of metal in quite exquisitely detailed fashion, their laughter and the lighter movements of their fingers captured perfectly, and modeled after the true passengers, who were in turn in a second cart, behind the actual horse. What purpose was then served by either the mirror-horse or the mirror-passengers, I could not hazard a guess I would be the slightest bit confident in positing as truth. But at the very least, it meant that there were half as many horses on the road per mile of traffic, which was a welcome relief in the summertime.
It was only at that point that I looked down to myself and realized that I was experiencing Concordia through the 'eyes' of a sculpture of myself, and upon this realization, I stepped back, and found myself on the pier where I had departed by Gondola. Though I supposed that were I to step back into the cradle of metal bits and lenses that comprised the connection between my self and the 'self' I had falsely believed to be true, who was surely still within the city of Concordia, I decided to abandon such diversions and instead continue my journey undaunted.
One star plucked forth from a batch of five, and delivered by means of a basket hanging from a rope line, to thee, dear reader.
When I first arrived in the oft-lauded Concordia, city of contrivance, it was by gondola. The gondolier in question was a strange sort of contraption, consisting of a suspension of gears, screws, and winches, which altogether were driven by the unseen running of some creature or another within a metal wheel. As the wheel turned, so too in quite elaborate fashion, was the oar maneuvered about. I was at first transfixed by the nature of the contraption itself, that was so seemingly-painstakingly engineered for so esoteric and mundane, as well as to mention, haphazard a purpose. But in my careful study of how the movements of one element were redirected into a corresponding but altogether distinct movement of another, I came to realize that the true artistry was not the mad genius---supposing there was only one such figure, that they were what one might call a genius, and it would not be indelicate to refer to them as being mad---who had devised the assemblage, but in the mind of the unseen animal who drove the whole affair. Somehow, it had become accustomed to the route even never having seen it, not perhaps being able to hold the idea of a gondola within its less-developed mind, were it even permitted to learn, such as it was capable, of how its movements on the wheel indirectly dictated the pace and course of the craft it was bound to. Perhaps it had not even the inkling that if it should make a wrong move it had no prior concept to even anticipate its far more insignificant footfalls would necessarily inspire in the oar, that the craft might capsize, and it would drown. Or perhaps out of necessity, these animals had realized this fact through arcane methods, and therefore, comported themselves however they might, but for to avoid every such choice that would lead to such an unfortunate result.
Throughout the ride, I was thoroughly transfixed by the nature of the contraption and further in the digestion within my own mind of what must be just so to make it thus, in this fixation, I neglected to take note of even the most talked-about landmarks of the city from the vantage of the maze-like river-ways surrounding it, and only upon depositing my ducats in the small slot astride the gondolier's wheel and stepping onto terra firma, did I realize that I was now too close to the buildings to see them in their proper glory. As well as that, though the ride of the gondola was remarkably uneventful for how many steps removed and obscured its semi-witting pilot was from its ultimate motions, it was a bit bumpy.
Once within the city itself, I found myself once again enthralled by how the carriages that one saw in the streets were orchestrated. Every carriage had, in place of where the horses normally would lead it, instead was a fully articulated metal sculpture---I know not a better word for what I saw, though the idea of a sculpture inadequately expresses what I saw, for its novelty outstripped such a prosaic description. Though unlike the oar, there was no hidden rodentia in a wheel somewhere, but instead, whether more or less aptly I have no ability to say, a horse behind the cart, whose movements were linked through metal rods to precise emulation in the sculpture ahead of the cart. Now not being of enough of a caliber in the realm of the natural sciences to judge how the forces thereby conveyed might pull a cart that the driving element---the true horse, and not its simulacrum---could only be seen by a layperson as pushing, I shall remain silent.
Quite interestingly, a detail which I noticed only after observing for longer, was that the passengers in the cart between the horse and its metallic mimic, were themselves a mimicry---likewise, constructed of metal in quite exquisitely detailed fashion, their laughter and the lighter movements of their fingers captured perfectly, and modeled after the true passengers, who were in turn in a second cart, behind the actual horse. What purpose was then served by either the mirror-horse or the mirror-passengers, I could not hazard a guess I would be the slightest bit confident in positing as truth. But at the very least, it meant that there were half as many horses on the road per mile of traffic, which was a welcome relief in the summertime.
It was only at that point that I looked down to myself and realized that I was experiencing Concordia through the 'eyes' of a sculpture of myself, and upon this realization, I stepped back, and found myself on the pier where I had departed by Gondola. Though I supposed that were I to step back into the cradle of metal bits and lenses that comprised the connection between my self and the 'self' I had falsely believed to be true, who was surely still within the city of Concordia, I decided to abandon such diversions and instead continue my journey undaunted.
One star plucked forth from a batch of five, and delivered by means of a basket hanging from a rope line, to thee, dear reader.