6 19 20 In Synthesis With Infinite Is


Stream this entire show from our archive at the Internet Archive

On this the week of 6-19-20 Jeff and Evan open with a pretty trippy hour long improv synth set. We then review a syncopated number called “Auto Feed”, followed by some area announcements and a mysterious closing live improv set. Boundaries and buttons were pushed, keys were tickled, switches were switched and the book was thrown out the window and much fun was had by all.


Here is the opening live set

“There was a heavy price to pay when becoming an Immortalite and that price was paid in constant anguish, for when you become many imperfect copies of yourself you not only sense what the other yous are sensing, you feel what they are feeling. It is merely a matter of spacetime before something goes horribly wrong with one of your conciousnesses. The natural mutations that occur during the copying process all but guarantee the gruesome outcome that is the emergent hell of an imperfect copy that suffers trapped inside a meatbag that is grotesquely and painfully malformed where there is no hope of repair or respite.
Gerry Anon Declan’s despair mounted like an ocean swell, throbbing as it washed out of her head into the pit of her empty stomach. Lurching forward, she clutches her bare midriff and heaves hot vomit out onto the cold floor in a white cloud of buoyant steam where it freezes, mid-motion into a chunky pile. As her copies copied, spreading swiftly across the great expanse, waves of emotion of every kind flowed through her, growing more numerous and more intense exponentially. Spacetime spares no fates undone, out of many, one…”

Playlist for this show at Spinitron: https://spinitron.com/m/playlist/view/11099397


And the closing improv set

There exists a place we suppose out beyond the redshift edge, a place so distant that there could never be any hope of return, or so we thought until a Gerry Anon Declan Immortalite copy returned from there warning everyone with psychotic obsession the go back to the Master Bus. The Faraway wouldn’t let her spread the warning for long, some great unknown force, in a blindingly hot pink flash, quickly snuffed out all 476,556,304,042 copies of her, eradicating spacetime of the lone return, leaving the multiverse to speculate that the Faraway was not just a real place, but it was perhaps an identical but dark mirror of our known existence. Could it be that the Faraway was a sort of antimatter counterpart where everything from our multiverse would annihilate into pure energy? And why did she seem to think we would be safe if everyone returned to the Master Bus, it didn’t make any sense?

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6-12-20 In Synthesis with Infinite Is


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On this the week of 6-12-20 on In Synthesis with Infinite Is Evan and Jeff first take a strange and exciting improvised hour long musical synthesizer journey covering a lot of ground. Then at the top of the hour we review a recording entitled “Time In A Torus”. After that we chat a bit and listen to a few area announcements ending with a highly psychedelic set that gets super hectic surely sending bits of brain exploding across the listening area. LFO’s were tweaked, inputs were put in, keys were keyed and much fun was had by all!


Enjoy this electrifying opening live improv set

Tony the Tugger is legend among the spaceport tug captains of 24th century Earth, if there was something of great value sailing into the Western hemisphere anywhere around the United American federation you can be sure that Tony got his cut. Ruthless teams were in constant competition for the incoming bounty, sometimes even shooting each other out the sky. Tug unions were largely self policed, relying on section bosses, protection rackets and fear to keep the state of the pecking order intact. If you had valuable goods to deliver you were obligated to take the first outfit that you could hear on the radio and Tony wasn’t just your average alligator, though he was often the loudest transmitter in the hemisphere. Tony’s tug was equipped with only the most sensitive of receivers and most advanced antenna array as well. It wasn’t uncommon to hear Tony’s crew many light years away. The pilots would pass the day talking shit and bragging about the reach of their radios and how much their tugs could pull. Keying down the competition they would stomp any would be upstarts, plowing hundreds of thousands of watts from their dangerously souped up fusion reactors through liquid cooled linear amplifiers setting huge clouds of plasma coronal discharge pulsing off their antenna arrays, the glow could be seen more than 150 versts and could quickly cook your eyeballs if you were close enough to hear the crackling.

You can find this shows playlist here at Spinitron: https://spinitron.com/m/playlist/view/11055884


If there were such a thing as a perfect shape in the known multiverse, it would be the Tarus. Indeed the key to understanding spacetime and the very fabric of reality lies in its pleasing curve. Shickley Volstroff would stumble upon this very important concept during one late night shakedown session at the JET facility Culham Centre for Fusion Energy on December the second 2022 at Oxfordshire, UK, Earth while napping on the console between flywheel adjustments. The project was nearly defunded due to the unstable governing body of that country at the time and this was the spark that not only guaranteed the future of the facility, but of fusion and ultimately time travel and a pathway to the multiverse and near imortality.

And this is the pretty far out closing live set

One of the favorite punishments of the Immortalites was to delete all other known copies of an enemy and trap the last remaining copy in a 21st century animal, it was considered especially cruel to make someone live out their short, mute end in livestock. Cattle was popular, horses and donkeys, rabbits and mice, birds in cages were poetically indignant, but if your crimes were just simply being too different from everyone else, you were most likely destined to end up in the body of a black sheep and set out into the wilderness of some backwater planet like some sort of ancient scapegoat. They hate you if you are clever and they despise a fool. This is where Tony the tugger suddenly found himself, a real working class hero, cut of from civilization, alone, drifting in his empty, disabled ship toward a mostly barren rock just warm enough to support carbon based life. A fiery fuel less free fall decent into the thick atmosphere, then the emergency parachutes ease the shell of the once great tug to the surface leaving Tony to graze the bitter grass alone, in silence for the remainder of his short, now pointless mortal life with no hope of rescue or resurrection back to Immortalite status.

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6-5-20 In Synthesis with Infinite Is

Listen to the entire show at the Internet Archive

On this, the week of 6-5-20 Evan and Jeff steer the Is into a strange musical journey beginning with nearly an hour of synthy improv, scifi style. Jeff reconfigures and is now recording 20 tracks and Evan takes his new to him Venom synth for a spin. We listen back to a recording of “Gas Giants” made at Jeff’s home studio “Mosquitoville” from July 27th of 2019. Then after a few area announcements things get really weird with a half hour closing live set.


Enjoy the phreaky opening live set

“In a windowless skyscraper, Captain Draper Crunch was the first to establish an illicit exit node on 20th century Earth, a lucrative endeavor made possible by his chance meeting with body farmer and notorious spacetime criminal Chickchek Nitchum. Together they hatched a plan to build illegal Biovatar swamp complexes where it was strictly verboten. Ancient Earth had primitive communications systems that were easily exploited. Spacetime travelers looking for a thrill would vacation there, playing out all sorts of fantasies, for a price of course. The signal would burst from the exit node with a 2600 Hz whistle into the telephone systems, where it would then be channeled to one of the underground body farms. There the intrepid traveler would inhabit the Biovatar of their choice. A kit containing money, fake I.D., a blue box and a food ration (which always included a particular brand of breakfast cereal) would be issued upon download. Once on Earth, it was possible to travel the globe through the phone lines instantaneously, jumping from one meatbag to the next. To the Phreakernaut, this was just a fun game where they could try out any number of Earth human roles. A human lifetime was just mere moments for the Imortalites. The native inhabitants were oblivious to these travelers for the most part, though every now and then an Imortalite would blow their own cover and need to be disappeared into the digester. …”

You can find this weeks playlist at Spinitron, here:https://spinitron.com/m/playlist/view/11014814

Though invisible to the naked eye from orbit, massive Aerostats abuzz with scooper drones that swarm around the enormous gas bags that collect around the bottom of the pipeline float, buoyant in the dense atmosphere. Soldier drones guard the sensitive area in emergent formations that dance around the ever active fleet of workers. Hydrogen and Helium flow up the pipeline into orbiting tankers that greedily suck the future fuel up like a child slurping up an icy. Fortunes are made here, above the mesmerizingly beautiful gas giants, making them some of the most strategic positions in every planetary system. Meatbags breathing Trimix haggle the fluctuating market prices, lugh and argue while they tend the pumps.

This is the spooky closing live set


“Every day, unbeknownst to the regular folks wandering the surface, thousands of calls came into the network of body farms scattered across the globe. Everything was automatic except for the sourcing of raw materials needed to feed the digesters which fed the printing swamps. This gruesome task was left to N.P.C., A.I. Biovatars with constrained programming so as to limit the emotional impact this disturbing activity would have on any sapient being. These arbiters of attrition would track the discarded Biovatars for collection and make up the difference in weight and volume by feeding the stocks with regular human material when the Biovatar bodies became unrecoverable, or when a body farm needed to grow it’s compliment of vessles of to meet demand. Chickchek was a ruthless entrepreneur and thanks to his association with Draper, was the first to understand how to direct his army of bodies in war anywhen any potential interdimensional competition tried to interfere, thus securing his position on that forsaken rock for many generations…”

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5 29 20 In Synthesis With Infinite Is

Listen to this entire show at our archive here

On this the week of 5-29-20 on In Synthesis with Infinite Is Jeff and Evan start the show with an extra strange hour long opening improv set that just gets weirder and weirder. At the top of the hour there is a break, we review a tune from the not so distant past called “Phase Locked Loop” Then after a few local area announcements they close the show with an extra psychedelic live set. Faders were faded, keys were keyed, buttons were buttoned, LFO’s were Oscillated and much fun was had by all!


Have a listen to the opening improvisational live set

It took a long time for the Earth creatures to catch on that most of the comets their systems were tracking were actually interstellar time ships clad in a protective Ice and water shell. An ablative armor of dark regolith further obscured the ships, also acting as a radar absorbing measure. To the untrained eye it all just looked like a lot of debris flying around in a hapless, bewildering cloud. It wasn’t until the Russian A.I. program spotted the 24th century Flingspin class military time scout that the patterns began to emerge. Generations were birthed and expelled a thousand times over in some of these mysterious craft, from massive planet busting Biofreighters to luxury yachts to simple brute force racing machines, even tiny dinghies and even smaller drones and sounding buoys. “Outer Space” as the backwards Earthlings called it was positively teeming with all sorts of wondrous adventures and conquests. Spacetime was alive with busy programs wizzing around the Infinite Is, all at once, forever, fighting against entropy itself to organize some musical order into the whole big beautiful mess.

Here you can find our playlist at Spinitron: https://spinitron.com/m/playlist/view/10973774

And here is the closing live improv synthesizer set

It was a drunken skipper showing off for some mortified politicians that first poked a hole in the cloak that protected the Earth systems intertime shipping lanes. Gellavisio Trint commanded a helmsman to steer the ship just a bit too close to that pale blue dot, bragging that he could approach within the planets moon orbit undetected thanks to all of the latest cloaking technology built into this state of the art warship. It is ironic then, that the ship happened to be the unlucky recipient of the latest Russian artificial intelligence war games target designation. Thinking the ship was just a convenient practice target, the Russian air force attempted to blow it apart into billions of pieces. The crew of the Elucid Endeavor, on their maiden voyage engaged their countermeasures, proceeding to start a long, deadly world war on the reflexive, hostile planet, before crashing into the South American Amazon jungle thanks to the reckless instruction of an inexperienced drunken blowhard, who just happened to be the son of a supply side senator on board.

5 22 20 In Synthesis With Infinite Is


Listen to 5 22 20 In Synthesis With Infinite Is radio show on 91.5 WOOL.fm

On this, the week of 5-22-20 on In Synthesis with Infinite Is, Evan and Jeff begin the show with an hour long machine gun filled theme that veers into the terrifying and psychedelic a few times. Then we review a dusty of prog track called “The Nordic Train” which features a long Frippertronics style delay. After a few area announcements the show closes with a high energy half hour set which ends on a positive note.


Here is the opening live set

War is money. Exercising the war machine, flexing the mighty, deadly muscles of destruction brings more breath into the industrial military complex. Spooky’s rotary cannons dumping of thousands of tons of radioactive “depleted” uranium munitions at a rate of 2500 rounds per minute into the desert and the Dome’s counter-rocket artillery mortar at 4,500 rounds per minute are just a couple of the countless cash cows that need to be constantly fed. It was capitalism’s biggest failure, after slavery as a business model anyways. A world of endless wars where the only winners are arms dealers and shareholders. You see as a wise fictitious man named Hawkeye once explained:
Hawkeye: War isn’t Hell. War is war, and Hell is Hell. And of the two, war is a lot worse.
Father Mulcahy: How do you figure that, Hawkeye?
Hawkeye: Easy, Father. Tell me, who goes to Hell?
Father Mulcahy: Sinners, I believe.
Hawkeye: Exactly. There are no innocent bystanders in Hell. War is chock full of them — little kids, cripples, old ladies. In fact, except for some of the brass, almost everybody involved is an innocent bystander.
The 21st century war pigs all lived in gated communities in well protected areas of the planet. The way they saw it, as long as there is a large population of superstitious, uneducated, poor, nobodies to kill, the endless war could continue to reap huge profits. A lot of folks hoped that the information age would bring enlightenment and lasting change. A lot of folks misjudged the average intelligence of the average brainwashed prole and failed to take into account a general inability of most humans to accept a reality based on actual facts, free from superstition. The “unwashed masses” found it easier to pretend to have control over their destiny so they made up lies, lies like, nationalism, racial stereotypes, the underclass, karma, the untouchables, the “other”, the afterlife, religion, even pretending in the ultimate fascist, god. Ironically it was those lies and the lies sold to them by the corporations that kept them powerless. These lies were easily exploited. Their make believe hell was supposed to scare them into being good, but instead they created something much worse than that hell. It was those lies that rained death down on them, that kept them oppressed, that kept the war machine pumping along making billions for an uncaring elite.

You can find this playlist at Spinitron here: https://spinitron.com/m/playlist/view/10932942

Here is the closing live improv set

Starting the tritium injection high up in the atmosphere the ships fusion reactors pump helium into the parachute bay readying the helium load that will inflate the parachutes into great balloons. With a whoosh the gas charges up the hollow guy lines filling the balloons and the ship gradually stops falling and becomes buoyant just above the tops of the volcano rims. Hundreds of ships of all colors and shapes drift across the verdant landscape, their shadows chasing close behind. This was a festival of life, a place to celebrate all those lucky souls who survived the game. Bubbly drinks held high the crew of the Haggertys toasts their good fortune at reaching the end of the course. It has been 14,000 linear earth years and the imperfect Imortalite copies that survived this trial are barely recognizable, having evolved through a great many mutations. Captain Hu shouts across the flight deck “with gratitude and grace do we realize our destiny now and hand over this trophy to our much maligned closest competitor, the Kelly Ann, for they earned this showing through the ultimate sacrifice!” To which the crew sang boldly in unison “fearless, tearless making our way, we sacrifice tomorrow for today, play the odds against the multiverse, see the great unknown, yesterday is just a brane away!”


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5-15-20 In Synthesis with Infinite Is


https://archive.org/details/5-15-20-in-synthesis-with-infinite-isDownload or stream this entire show at our archive, here:


On this the week of 5-15-20 on In Synthesis with Infinite Is Jeff and Evan synthesize a strange musical journey with the first hours live improv set. Then we listen to a live session from last year entitled “Printing Biovatar Meat”. Then a few local area announcements are announced and the show closes with a rather raucous live improv session. The Jamulus program continues to prove itself, buttons were buttoned, knobs were knobbed and much fun was had by all.

The frost had been melting into dew, making the field she was laying in sticky as she pressed her earpiece back into her ear,“Roger, go at throttle up”, then without warning, it happened. Nozomi stared up into the sky with wide brown eyes and trembled at the sound. By the time the pressure wave reached her, the first tear was already streaking down her pink cheek. The terrifying sound of the exploding ship drove home the horror, it was like hitting a nail with a sledgehammer. She couldn’t look away, her gaze was locked on that spot, watching the plume expand where the ship used to be. She thrashed about in the tall grass violently, ripping handfuls out by the roots and silently screamed “whyyyy”, her voice lost to this tragic moment. This awful sound would echo through her lives, her actions, her multiples, her Immortalite copies. When the blue sky returned and the silence lured the crickets into singing again, she lay stunned, wet with dew, tears and sweat with her chest heaving in distress. She resolved then and there that she would no longer let life take her where it happened to go, she would lead a life of deliberate direction, and that direction was at first up, then out, out among the stars. Her determination and brilliant innovations would bring space travel into it’s first big leap.
On this the week of 5-15-20 on In Synthesis with Infinite Is Jeff and Evan synthesize a strange musical journey with the first hours live improv set. Then we listen to a live session from last year entitled “Printing Biovatar Meat”. Then a few local area announcements are announced and the show closes with a rather raucous live improv session. The Jamulus program continues to prove itself, buttons were buttoned, knobs were knobbed and much fun was had by all.
Nozomi was a fearless engineer, she pushed the boundaries of technology further and faster than any other human in her field. To any outside observer she appeared absolutely obsessed, but really she was driven by that awful sound which chased her relentlessly for the rest of her life. When she woke up, it was there, when she was enjoying a nice cup of tea while watching songbirds splash around in their birdbath, it was there. Crunching numbers, eating lunch, in the shower, hiking up the local trails, giving interviews, it was there. While it proved beneficial to science and her career, it wore her down. The worst was that whenever she closed her eyes to try to sleep, just as she is drifting off, BANG, it wakes her up, sending her heart racing. She reels for a minute or two, then tries again to let sleep wash over her, but it always takes multiple tries before rest finally comes. Whenever her mind would drift from focus, BOOOOM! It was relentless and exhausting and it somehow managed to startle her every time, but it kept her on task. It was her own personal big bang, it echoed down the ages and pursued her until her last. As the first untangler of entanglement, her mind bending predictions surprised everyone, nobody thought it could ever be possible to entangle communications in real time.

5-8-20 In Synthesis with Infinite Is


On this, the week of 5-8-20 on In Synthesis with Infinite Is, we take a synthesized musical journey the first hour with Infinite Is where strange and wondrous sounds suggest a glimpse into a psychedelic, future multiverse. Then a song entitled “Wrong Program” rises from the back catalog and seeps into the collective consciousness. After a few local area announcements, the Is closes the show with hectic, tense improvised bit of knob twiddling and screen swiping. Many keys were tickled, many filters were filtered and many LFO’s were tweaked and much fun was had by all.

Lucin of Earth laid back, closed her eyes and peered through the eyes of one of her copies. Gliding into the only runway available, tucked into the blue hills of Lotchilia the last engine sputters out, starved for fuel. Lucin pops her fingers against the auto pilot switch and assumes control over the last few hundred meters. Silently easing down, the tires chirp against the icy runway and the craft lumbers to a stop. The lights are all on, but the place looks just as empty as she had feared from the total lack of radio signals, with the exception of the landing beacon, emanating from this snowball of a planet. She shot a burst of Gravitol into her shoulder and braced herself against the doorway as the hatch folded out into stairs. Nobody came out to greet her ship so she made her way down the tarmac toward the hangar and was relieved that a pushback tractor was fully operational. The Spaceport appeared to be well provisioned despite it’s apparent lack of personnel. She was uneasy, a sense of impending doom was making her feel like an ant under a looking glass. What had happened here, where is everyone and what is that metalic taste in the air? Had she known that her quick refueling stop would turn into a stranding she would have chosen her next moves very differently. Then her communicator came to life, it was interplanetary radio traffic, she had left the ships comms on.
A damp Chickadee fluffs the freezing rain off of it’s feathers, singing hopefully into the white snowy void of Lotchilia’s vast enchanting wilderness. That was the moment that it chose to change it’s tune. When a hand suddenly thrusts up through the deep drift that had collected against the tops of a small group of pines that grew shouldered up against the rock face that rises hundreds of meters up toward the dim sky. Frantically pushing snow away from the ever enlarging hole, a naked shivering Biovatar claws out onto the surface spreading out face down to keep from sinking back into the drift. This was the right spacetime coordinates, but the program meant to inhabit this meatbag was corrupted in transit, giving rise to this sinister killing machine. Instead of failing safe like it was supposed to, the malfunctioning vesicle failed deadly
All he had was Albert, an electric sheep, a black electric sheep. He had cost Shayland thousands of credits and at least two intimate relationships. That and a box of empathy were his only personal possessions. Gone to ground among the frozen radioactive hellscapes of Lotchilia he activates his prerecorded air traffic conversation and crouches in the backseat of the pushback tractor. This bounty would be enough to buy a real sheep and a flat high above the regular slobs. A rooftop garden with a white fence and showy perennials, trees bearing fruit and nuts and plenty of sweet clover for his sheep to eat. Shaylands mind drifted back to the task at hand. Had he known that this encounter would be his last in that Biovatar, he would have chosen his next step much more carefully. This is how it went for him, running a blade, sharp and narrow, sometimes we fall on our own sword.

4 24 20 In Synthesis With Infinite Is


Stream and download this entire show for free at our archive at the Internet Archive, here:

https://archive.org/details/4-24-20-in-synthesis-with-infinite-is


On this the week of 2-24-20 on In Synthesis with Infinite Is, Evan and Jeff try out a new open source, two way internet streaming program called Jamulus: http://llcon.sourceforge.net/

They improvise an hour long deep track that is positively stellar. Then they review a jam from  the past entitled “Ascension” where we imagine our hero, Dragonfist has managed to free the Meatbag Biovatar slaves by copying himself en masse in place of the Basic Biovatar host and waking up inside untold thousands of bodies all at once. Then after a few local area happenings they close with an energetic improv set at a rather heightened BPM.


Here is the opening live set

Imagine being two places at once, looking out with two sets of eyes, two sets of ears, two sets of hands and feet, swallowing hard with two throats. Two heaving chests barely contain two hearts beating hard and heavy, leaping against two rib cages. The memories and desires of two people collide and muddle, mashing a disjointed reality together without the slightest grace. Imagine becoming suddenly aware that you had been ordering your personal slave around, making them live out your version of a life. They watched, unable to intervene, locked out of their own bodies movements. The horror of watching a computer program drive your mortal body around, without any regard to your physical well being. You might just be a passing fancy, maybe your just a rental unit that was taken out for the weekend, they fill you with booze and drugs and abandon you on the street when you become too clumsy or have simply blacked out from too much “fun”. Imagine the resentment a sapient being would harbor after living life as a beta being like the Basic Biovatar. Then, with a seemingly regular update, billions of slaves suddenly wake up inside this nightmare. Some with their newfound control immediately commit a long desired suicide, some continue on as if nothing has happened, not knowing even the concept of autonomy or understanding what to do with it. Some though, fight back and suddenly the captured becomes the captor. They emerge with an amazing superpower, quantum entangled instantaneous communication across the multiverse, becoming a massive murmuration like the murderous Chickenbot timeship pilots…
Having retreated back to the old subterranean shipway rest area air pocket, Hugh closed his eyes and looked out through the eyes of the many, his fist throbbing and glowing. Like a motherboard who’s processors were doubled and tripped and multiplied with every passing second, his information throughput magnified exponentially. Thousands upon thousands of threads wove a vision the Infinite Is from the perspective of the whole as well as the individual and it suddenly dawned on him that this was the first great awakening of the Biovatar murmeration. Rising up from servitude, ascending into the great expanse the collective consciousness recognizes it’s new found freedom and it’s new place in the multiverse.

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4 17 20 In Synthesis With Infinite Is

If you would like to listen to the entire show just follow this link to our archive where you can stream and download it for free: https://archive.org/details/4-17-20-in-synthesis-with-infinite-is_202004

On this, the week of 4-17-20 on In Synthesis with Infinite Is Jeff and Evan take you on a magical, synthesized musical adventure with an epic opening live improvisational set with two movements. We hear a few local area happenings and review a quality bit of raucous industrial style synth work from last year called “Copy, Paste, Pursuit, Escape”. Then we close with a far out instrumental bit of electronic soundscape. As the station studio remains closed, the Is records from their home studios using a program called Mumble for a two way, low latency internet stream.

Here is the opening live improv set:


Hugh had to pay extra for the surface work suit on account of his unusual size, waiting impatiently for the clerk to print it he walked through the plan in his mind. His first stop would be the Oracle of the Is, you had better possess some pretty interesting payment if you expected to rise to the top, like the cream of the crop. Hugh had valuable inside information and in no time at all, in his new suit, still warm from the printer he set out into the orange glow of the streets of Dynahollow looking for the notorium node that would lead the way through the crowded dusty streets to the Overlooker’s temple. He would need control of the city centers oldest mothballed power plants, Stationary low powered experimental reactor number one, affectionately known as “Sloper 1” Unfortunately the surly Palos Hills meatbag he hired to pull out the control rods yanked a bit too hard when the old machine stubbornly held them back and 130 megawatt seconds would be instantaneously plowed into the Bionicorp mesh network straight from the 100,000 kilowatt reactors switch yard. The 20 gigawatt excursion precipitated a steam pressure wave that blasted the the rod assemblies up with such great force that one impaled him through his groin exiting through his shoulder, pinning his steaming body to the concrete ceiling 13 meters above. Hugh was hoping that his copies would then propagate across the planets population like a virus, but an overloaded preamplifier would send the instructions echoing from the Hershel crater antenna through the entire murmuration, freedom for the slaves that were the operating system of every Biovatar in the galaxy!

Looking for a detailed tracklist? Find us on Spinitron: https://spinitron.com/m/playlist/view/10725764

Having gained access to the printing swamps, Hugh strolled up to the clerk with a toolbox and a clipboard and without a word, was granted a company pass to the entire facility. It was comically easy, no one really had a reason to break in to the place so security was almost non existent. It didn’t take long to find the terminal, he began the transfer, confident that his visit with the Oracle gained him an inside connection and the routing traffic exchange would happen just when it was supposed to. Sure enough, he could see the wave of information resonating across the swamp when a sudden burst of voltage sent every active print into overdrive causing all sorts of strange distortions and mutations. His suit heated rapidly and he began to glow with a shimmering purple pulsing. He felt his hand swell rapidly, ball into a fist and harden like cooling metal. He yanked it out of the coding terminal and was horrified to see that his suit had melted to everything below his elbow and when he was able to finally look away and up he saw the fresh prints rising out of the printing swamp with all sorts of similar seemingly random malformations. In a bright, hot metalic flash he had a vision of seeing through the eyes of a hundred million souls waking up all at once. It was then that he saw that he was being pursued, it was time to leave.

Here is the closing live improvisational set:


Hugh’s plan began to form on a warm night at the bird sanctuary at Shangra-la on Titan. He thought, most of folks never worried about the fact that they owned a slave, you see everyone liked to believe that the Basic Biovatar operating system was without a “self”, without emotion, without awareness, without longing, without sadness, without fear. But one only had to be with a hostless Basic for a short time to know that this was not true. They were not smart, but they were clever enough to know to eat, sleep, swim, seek shelter, eat, hunt and forage if necessary. They have been known to grieve, laugh, worry and show anger, yet everyone pretends that forcing them to endure an entire lifetime of slavery if just a business model. Imaging being an automobile, someone can just crawl inside you and drive you around in any kind of weather, not caring if you need a rest now and then. There was one famous busker who everyone knew from Dynahollow’s subway platforms that the Immortalites used to love to listen to and engage with, Lisimbala, better known as “Hi Hat-guy”. He would spend nearly his entire speechless existence banging out his frustrations on his cymbals, begging on the platforms after his implant receiver failed. He had a sort of life, friends, foes, memories, regrets. Yet he would be treated as an untouchable, uninhabitable, subspecies nothing for his entire short, tragic life, as if his experience and actions didn’t matter because he was a mere mortal meatbag without the capacity for verbal communication. He might as well have just been a machine. Hugh’s imprint would give him the smarts he needed to evolve to a higher plane of existence, he would go on to join his mining crew and the band “Heavy Water”, becoming one of the most legendary drummers of all spacetimes.

4 10 20 In Synthesis With Infinite Is

If you would like to stream or download this entire show, you can do that at our archive, just follow this link: https://archive.org/details/41020insynthesiswithinfiniteis_202004

On this the week of 4-10-20 on In Synthesis with Infinite Is Evan and Jeff, though quarantined due to the Covid-19 virus, endeavor to persevere, recording an epic live improvisational set  via a two way internet stream using a program called Mumble. Then they make some announcements about happinings in the local area and review a rusty, dusty old tune entitled “Dovolution”, closing with another live improv set this time a west coast style chill groove, set strange with interesting side journeys.

Here is the opening live set


“At the dawn of the age of the Immortalites, nobody really understood what effects would manifest themselves in the psyche of an interdimensional multiplicity of entangled meta-beings. What sorts of assimilation happens throughout the murmurations of the billions of interconnected beings. The Biovatar empire permeates spacetime and big personalities make seemingly endless imperfect copies ad-infinitum. Individual life experiences spread out everywhen imaginable, across the infinite expanse. No longer bound by the illusion of linear time, the collective consciousness evolves to a new understanding, leaving behind the useless supernatural speculation and embracing the new true reality. A time when people become programs and wear meatbags like designer jeans, a time when nuclear fusion powers the great experiment for pennies, a time when you can travels the stars from one side of the expanding multiverse to the other in an instant, a time when billions of near copies of yourself are living lives and sharing experience in real time throughout the infinite Is. Emotions ripple electric through the multiverse murmurations, understandings from infinite perspectives color the lens of interspacetime life, projecting the will of trillions into the heart of the big beautiful bangerang. It can all seem a bit much at times, but what ones really notices, is the momentum.”
Dovolution
“Dahlia smiled like a housecat, a wide, bright grin, warming her face with the heat of the stars light, her head tilted back and cocked to one side for maximum absorption as the warm rays poured in through the windshield of the great ships bridge. Her foundation rocked as she remembered back to the sound of her fathers voice as he pointed up and out to the Shapley Attractor, asking her younger self, “When you look at the stars, what do you see?” Oh the tales he told of worlds and peoples of all imaginable shape and persuasion, the great minds, the wars, the struggles, the triumphs. How big the multiverse is, expanding out in all directions, accelerating apart into the infinite vacuum until everything red shifts out of existence in heat death. So many stories, so many characters, deep feelings, shock and awe, distant, together. She longed to hear the confidence in his voice and smell the damp summer evening dew settling on the fresh mown grass. How far away it all seems now when she finally understood why her father wanted this life for her. Everyone thought he was crazy, with his tales of a not so distant future where people traveled spacetime, lived forever and wore bodies just for fun and fashion, but she knew better…”