1 17 20 In Synthesis With Infinite Is On 91.5 WOOL.fm Posted on February 2, 2020March 5, 2021Stream this episode from the archiveThis week on In Synthesis with Infinite Is Jeff was not able to join me so I made a nice cup of tea and played some recordings of unreleased previous live jams and a couple of your submissions. Enjoy! Traversing the Infinite Is, independently of the passage of linear time, can be very disorienting. It is much like watching an explosion from many angles, where all the bits hang motionless, suspended in space, locked in a static, unchanging picture of a violent, dynamic event.Strangely though, everything looks to be always moving apart, toward entropy, parity is not conserved. Sure there are patterns in the noise, they play like music, vibrating like ripples in a pond. Pulsing out into each other in a great elaborate dance of matter and energy. The multiverse sings with the songs of a billion voices. When we listened back to this performance I spoke this word and thought that we were the first to coin the word thrumbob, but Rob Hal beat us to it, so I read his retro space mystery and it was a fun read. Print yourself a cup of groth and have a listen while you read the mystery of the ol’ thrumbob. Thanks for the fun story Rob!Infinite Is – Suspended animationsInfinite Is – ThrumbobGreen Hill Builders – Willie’s Matrix https://greenhillbuilders.bandcamp.com/track/willies-matrixChris Decato – Boat Rhythm https://chrisdecato.bandcamp.com/track/boat-rhythmInfinite Is – Reactor Vent Murchik, bolted awake by the hard landing, quickly made her way out onto the tarmac to assess the damage. The ships hull crackled with heat, bending the light like water, singed vegetation vaporizing in a ring of smoke that rose from the spacecraft where it lay outside of the paved perimeter. Humming with a massive pressure the aft reactor head started blowing it’s 2 meter bolt heads clear up through the hull superstructure, where the precious artificial atmosphere, now dangerously radioactive, billowed out across the valley of vulnerable meatbags who ran from the smoking spacecraft to the gates of the spaceport. The horns blat out, echoing around the valley, announcing that the whole city was now actively bathing in deadly radiation.