# I am the Watcher. I am your guide through this vast new twtiverse.
#
# Usage:
# https://watcher.sour.is/api/plain/users View list of users and latest twt date.
# https://watcher.sour.is/api/plain/twt View all twts.
# https://watcher.sour.is/api/plain/mentions?uri=:uri View all mentions for uri.
# https://watcher.sour.is/api/plain/conv/:hash View all twts for a conversation subject.
#
# Options:
# uri Filter to show a specific users twts.
# offset Start index for quey.
# limit Count of items to return (going back in time).
#
# twt range = 1 3418
# self = https://watcher.sour.is?uri=https://www.synkretie.net/twtxt&offset=2018
# next = https://watcher.sour.is?uri=https://www.synkretie.net/twtxt&offset=2118
# prev = https://watcher.sour.is?uri=https://www.synkretie.net/twtxt&offset=1918
it is pitch-dark, the trees rustle in the wind↵it smells of ozone↵an electric hum, nearby, wandering↵steps↵do not↵move
what if earth is hollow AND flat at the same time ↵what then
cryptic markings on doorframes mistaken for gang signs, street signs defaced with graffiti sigils, cars burned as offerings
Confined to the ghetto, our druids adapted. They still guard the lore, but now also memorize sewer maps, teach asphalt magic on the roofs,
Turned to their sides, like gates, they're transparent and her mind is in full view. Thoughts flit around like fish, peer at you curiously
She opens her eyes and no, not the eyelids, the eyes: Two hyperspheres swivel around, irises vanish into themselves, cycle colors and shapes
"And we made room for two additional sets of mandibles! Media-to-nerve in even higher fidelity! Experience fleshy communion with the net!"
The aliens called and uh, we used those monoliths wrong, they were meant to have all sorts of arms and not be glowing cargo cult bricks
if apocalypse is revelation, genesis could be the initial occultation of all knowledge
*walks up to couple*↵"so who of you is the mitochondrium and who is the cell
Behind the moving train, the ground zips open and reveals Earth's crystal nerves, giant muscles moving the plates, organs pumping magma
Nobody *quite* knows where the "glowing sideline" trait came from. But it's spreading, seems to confer a very distinctive mating advantage.
They're slow but very agile (to fit into the little space the city offers them), and their insides are soft and excrete digestion enzymes.
Feral cars express suppressed wild traits after a few generations, for example a rough gray hide to blend in with the asphalt and concrete.
Even the puddles in the streets form nixies that sing at an almost inaudibly high pitch and occasionally pull a mouse or rat under water
In the workers' quarters, magical pollution makes snowflakes fall as tiny ice furniture while raindrops have bulbous misshapen outgrowths
humanity is shadowbanned from the universe
Through unspoken agreement, the gnomes have settled only my ceiling. Now a whole village's worth of houses and bridges is dangling from it
In the colony in the binary system, they know two sun gods: Mother and Father Sun, surrounded by their playing children
a system of linguistics/syntax based on bodies instead of grammar trees, with head, heart, limbs
He was going to meet fate that day, but fate didn't show up. Forgot about him. It's been centuries now and his faded outline still lingers.
☂: That's an acetylene torch and that room belongs to someone else.↵$: And you lack poetry in your soul!
$: With our paint-on rooms, just draw a door onto the wall with our kit, step through and behold: A new room for your apartment, near free!
when you tap your feet to a song, that's called one foot in the rave
But the easiest way to get into another universe is still to start it, because that's where the hole in the ourotorus lies
Experienced world walkers can, by the patterns of its scales and symmetries of its physics, tell whether it's a cousin of ours, a sibling,
The older a universe and its ouroboros, the thicker its hide: Jörmungandr's is nigh impenetrable, but younger universes are more accessible.
imageboards love OC because they swim in so many derivative memes that they become cheap while OC stays hard to come by
they make the originals more accessible/popular or provide more depth, and their presence will also motivate creators to make more pioneers
what follows are fan art & fiction, mashups, jokes, cultural references etc, derided in some contexts but an important part of the ecosystem
among memes, there are pioneer species that establish a cultural shared context that other memes then settle (e.g. books and other OC)
Snorting food coloring will not cure your cold, but at least you'll leave behind tons of paper tissue rorschach blots
You'll see them dance around the woods, jump over their crowns, wander them in wonder, steal saplings or just stare into one for years
Slow down subjective time enough and a forest becomes a chlorophyll fire with wooden bones. And indeed, they're like bonfires to the gods.
a pixel dies in the sky, comes loose, falls to the ground, and from the point of impact ripple concentric fairy rings
A burning ship's on our tail↵leering faces on its rail↵↵But many-angled sirens fill our ears↵soothe our fears↵and we zoom down the maelstrom
We sail the fractal ocean↵in our ship Convergence↵up and down the magnitudes↵↵The promised land lies hidden↵within its foam, a tiny pearl
They came, ruled, left, all a century ago. Our slums overgrow their ruins like mold, our children play in monolith fields of unknown purpose
the docs pronounce you deaf. the years go by, no agent smith turns up.↵not a revolutionary, not the chosen one, just someone whose pod broke
a thin static crackle like headphones unplugging, then the sound of the world cuts out and you hear the machines' low hum for the first time
In the Middle Ages, they made their screens out of a special bee's hive. The larvae, naturally bioluminescent, were their hexagonal pixels.
That wasn't a blotter. Those were golem instructions.↵ｅｎｊｏｙ ｙｏｕｒ ｔｒｉｐ
+++ half the city's mailboxes on the run after hackers sneak a Name into the local newspaper's headlines +++
My hobby: Sending letters with names of God on them so that the mailboxes in which they're placed become golems and run away
[fantasy concept] but it has physics↵↵[the end game of X, and how you get there]↵↵[nonsensical idea seed, germinated]
In case your religion forbids sex with robots, our Chastebot™ will still cook for you, hug you, warm your bed, breathe quietly at night
In the dream, the letters have more than two dimensions and reach into the paper as well. And way below them, others are swimming
A ship nears the shore, extends a number of oars and scuttles onto dry ground, while behind it an angry and presumably hungry kraken roars
do prisoners for life deserve the immortality treatment
They will be the only ones to not fear death - the young immortals who follow will fear it even more than mortals, being unfamiliar with it
Once we get immortality, there's going to be a rare breed of immortals that have come to terms with death because they were once mortal
her memory palace has trapdoors, elevators, secret passages, shifting rooms↵↵his is a memory forest: ancient oaks, animal trails, burrows
Something takes over your body while you can only watch. It's kinder, makes better jokes, you begin to wonder if maybe it's for the better
To escape the matrix, overwrite the simulation stack's return pointer: Dream the right paradoxes and you'll wake into the real world
It appears our solipsist is demented. People have been vanishing randomly, cities losing their h story, aging backwa ds, se d h lp pl e, ,
dreams waft off her head, slowly circle it, luminous fog tendrils and klein bubbles, prisms and tiny dragons caught within
The animal colloquially known as "lens flare" is in fact a usually invisible moth that's drawn to cameras
The second year, the last of them dies.↵The third year, it blossoms.↵A hundred years, a dryad sits on the beach, chatting with the mermaids.
Druids, stranded on an island, build a Frankenstein tree out of driftwood, rip the pages out of books to give it leaves
The soap bubbles it produces are black, oily, never quite round and things with too many limbs writhe within
minimal because larger examples of the same system could show the same emergent properties
attempted definition: a (minimal) emergent system is one that follows statistical laws not seen at the constituent level
"These pyramids didn't build themselves"↵Actually they did, they're asleep right now, or did you expect the aliens to be carbon based
She takes off her glasses and eyes, places them on the desk, the sockets focus on you↵"In your own words now, why do you deserve a raise"
The Kraken is real here. Ruling from the center, occasionally one of its tentacles will breach the surface and dwarf even the maelstroms
In our plasma bodies, we sail the sun's burning oceans, ride the wake of magnetic whales and pass maelstroms big as planets
worst elemental pets:↵air: will constantly mess up your desk↵fire: goes really well with a fireplace, but may make your house run away
best elemental pets:↵water: easy to care for, trusting, soothing sounds↵earth: will pretend to be a new piece of architecture every day
Alternative outcome: They have wings, in fact they're all wings, spinning like helicopter blades, trailing holy fire from the hub
The angels did fly, but it turned out they used buoyant helium bladders and were unsightly blobs
when you have multiple thirstbots running on one cpu, it's two girls one cpu
if you demolish a chinese room with an axe and then replace its handle, is it still the same axe, and
what if your chinese rooms are inhabited by really tiny people and each replaces a neuron, is the resulting chinese hotel conscious
if you replace parts of the brain with equally functional chinese rooms, at what point does the assemblage cease to be conscious
an aquarium with a tame water elemental inside; when fed, it'll rain against the glass for an hour, perfect for long evenings
"They moved in a month ago and I didn't have the heart to throw them out", she says. Two hummingbird chicks peer at you over a nest of hair.
The exalted willow's branches hang upwards, sway in the wind like an anemone's arms, occasionally pull in an unwary bird for a snack
every day, you wake up into a new world, the sky a different color, gravity in another direction, with gray dreams the only fixture
perceptions are intrusive thoughts about physical reality
Kek, actually, is under suspension - he'd be disqualified if he was a reincarnation, and the judges are still undecided on that.
Gods love to play the game "let's hide our names in the past". Near always, their arrival will have been foretold by obscure old media.
With this new brain firmware, you won't need to sleep anymore, downside is rare crashes that will require a technician to reboot you
(Lord of the Rings is one of those books, it even comes with a "Outtakes and Making Of" disc aka the Silmarillion)
You don't even recognize the characters anymore. It's like someone left the camera running and you're peeping in the author's mind.
The book has long ended but somehow there's always another page behind the last one. You keep reading. The hero settles down, has children,
when you come across an abandoned profile, it could be that they died, but maybe they also molted and this is just a discarded identity
no, he can't do that, we have mythematical proof that the narrative won't bend that way
in case both participants prefer the backseat, compatible bots may also (human-imperceptibly) negotiate to not engage in smalltalk at all
using brain implants with control over your facial nerves to let a chatbot handle your meatspace smalltalk
We grant you freedom↵No leaders↵No masters↵Earth is free to rule itself now↵Merely a speck of light from our escape capsule
Welcome to acausal economics 101, where we find out how to make pascal's mugger behave and trade equitably with basilisks
and in the gashes in his skin, a hundred eyes open and look at you accusingly
How about we teach you a spell that crashes the smartphone of that guy playing bad hip hop aloud in public transport, yes that one
Do not cross the spaceport mafia. They'll tie an antigrav pod to your feet and throw you into the sky.
The witch's books lose their pages in autumn and are reduced to their spines in winter. But each spring, they'll grow new knowledge.
One by one, the stars come loose, drift down like snowflakes and cover the ground in constellations we do not dare tread on
Open 25/7, the shop's sign says. You think they're being cute but one night, the clocks don't seem to work, the other customers lack eyes,
the god of the city sleeps in a scrapyard, feral cars are its herd, graffiti overgrows the walls it passes like moss
Over the crash scene, the drones are already circling, waiting to descend on the wreckage and incorporate whatever usable parts are left
I just want to know, can you apply for asylum with international megacorps yet