Personal Journal of Kurlund. Universe 117. Entry 219.

We have been taking full advantage of our time before the departure of the first watcher teams out into the expanding universe. Once that happens, much of our time will be dedicated to reviewing reports sent back by the watchers. My research team wasted no time in compiling and sifting through all known research referencing how the universe functions. From there, we were split into focus groups for each type of fundamental measurement.

It took hundreds of thousands of years to test and validate old testing protocols and data sets, but we have identified the top 3 most likely routes for predicting space folding. The next phase of the plan is to design and fabricate monitoring stations. These small facilities will continuously compile data on spacetime properties known to impact folding. Having tested and catalogued most all events that can measurably impact the targeted properties, we will be able to identify anomalies in the data that could be due to the existence of other universes.

Unfortunately, I was not selected to be a part of the maintenance/data recovery teams for our monitoring stations. I will instead be responsible for analyzing collected data, scouring for any sign of aberrations. For now, my research time will be dedicated to the construction of our data stations,. Once they are sent out into the universe we may finally find out if our universe is alone.

Personal Journal of Kurlund. Universe 117. Entry 27.

It might be the mind-altering drugs talking, but I’ve spent five hours in bed thinking about how I remember my past. I feel that writing out my thoughts will empty my brain and I can finally fall asleep.

It didn’t take long after we conquered aging that we realized the limitations of the capacity of our brains, especially with memory. Without our neural implants, there is no way we’d be able to make it through one iteration of the universe, let alone dozens. The upgrade to our minds allowed for the accurate storage of sensory data from our experiences, including recalled events from our biological brains. All one had to do was focus on a memory and it would be copied and saved.

I remember being awestruck about how vivid my memories had become after receiving my implants. I can still remember the warm look of my mother’s face and sound of my father’s bellowing laughter. Without the implants, that information would have been lost to me eons ago. For that at least, I am deeply grateful. But though I can see and hear my parents with supreme clarity, the emotion that used to accompany those memories has dulled. Not that I feel my emotions themselves have waned. I can still be brought to tears from joy or sorrow and explode with rage, but my memories from long ago, although clear, seem so far away and almost unfamiliar. I can see my mother's face, but no longer think of her as someone close to me. She is more of a stranger than those I walk by in the hall that I can’t even name.

Is this simply due to the passing of time? Or is it that my memory no longer lives in my biological self, but within the implants placed inside of me?

On my Absence

Okay so maybe I was too optimistic on how often I could dedicate time to drafting journal entries for Kurlund. I have been focusing my efforts on writing the book these journal entries are for. Moving forward, I will be uploading at least one journal entry per month. If you join the mailing list, I will send updates on when the entries are published.

Sometime soon I will post the Prologue of A Pocket Full of Strings to the book’s webpage. It is already written and is in the POV of Kurlund. It will probably be Kurlund’s only POV entry, so if you don’t like him, you still might enjoy the book. If you do enjoy Kurlund, sit tight for more journal entries and who knows, maybe he’ll get his own proper story in another cycle.

Personal Journal of Kurlund. Universe 117. Entry 2319.

Well, it was only a matter of time. My friend Sigrid pinged me today that one of the watcher teams discovered an early analog of the Pre-Existings. It’s not the earliest an analog has been found and it doesn’t mean the Pre-Existings will evolve from it, but it does signify that the real work of this universal cycle has begun.

Speaking of our old enemies, there have been a few instances in the past dozen cycles where they seem to make extraordinary jumps in scientific development. In one instance they almost seemed to expect our interference and came closest to breaking containment since the last War of the Rond. One of the areas of research for this cycle is investigating possible causes for the odd behavior. You’d think a threat of the Pre-Existings would galvanize our kind, but we had just as many departures as the last universal cycle.

I can’t blame them, the monotony of our work is already weighing on me. The initial excitement of my research assignment has waned. We have no leads, no new ideas. I spend my spare time scouring old research on anything and everything, looking for a spark of an idea. Sometimes I come across files that are flagged as being read that I don’t recall reading at all.

I find myself almost bitter at how stagnant we have become. We have reached a limit on how much our biological brains can integrate with technology. If we can’t find a way to evolve, we are doomed to fade away. Perhaps, that is how and why we defeated the Pre-Existings in the Origin. Maybe they grew stagnant, apathetic, bored.

I need to go punch something.

Personal Journal of Kerlund. Universe 117. Entry 113.

It’s official! I’ve been accepted into the Investigation of Multiple Universes research team. An overwhelming amount of people applied to the group and Frankly, I am surprised I was selected. With the increasing numbers of our kind heading off on their own to seek after other universes, the Council of Mistakes has finally relented by creating a formal research endeavor on the matter.

If the findings support the evidence of other universes and how to find them, it could result in a mass exodus from this universe. Many, including myself, have lost close friends and family that have ventured off into the empty void not knowing whether they are safe or even alive. If our numbers in this universe dwindle too low, we risk being overtaken by emergent species that discover the Rondure of Confluence.

On the other hand, if it is discovered that other universes don’t or can’t possibly exist, it would paint a bleaker picture. All those that had departed in search of them would most certainly be dead. Worse, we’d know that there is nothing else out there. We have nearly mastered this universe. Once we do, there would be nothing else to accomplish.

I am optimistic we will discover at least one other universe and with it, near limitless possibilities. Yes, there is risk, but also excitement and I for one am in desperate need of invigoration.

Personal Journal of Kurlund. Universe 117. Entry 413.

Today marks the departure of the outer Watcher teams, marking the end of the celebrations and frolics of the idle universal beginnings. As is the start of every cycle, there is no need to monitor the early universe. During such time, all are free to do as they will. Such freedom is welcome after billions of years working, but it soon loses its luster. I spent the universal beginnings as I usually do, catching up with friends and family, delving into the library records, technological research initiatives, recreational drugs, and general debauchery. My hopes for this cycle being different from universes past have already vanished, but so has my apathy of existence. As the universe expands and galaxies form, it is time to continue our good work. The outer Watchers will be the first to send reports back to the Library of Time, and with them, my work begins.

Personal Journal of Kurlund. Universe 117. Entry 1034

At the start of every universal iteration, a type of lottery is conducted. It is known as the Goopy Conjecture. Everyone within the Rondure of Confluence is to guess the time from the beginning of the iteration at which the first land animal the size of a Goopy is observed. The closest guess gets to name the creature. This includes the right to rename the creature if it had been identified and named in a previous universal iteration.

A Goopy of course, was one of the first animals recorded in Universe 001 (The first universal iteration after the Origin). A Goopy is approximately the size of an adult human liver, and quite contrary to its name, looks nothing like the word goop would imply. It was a predatory beast with a short thick body covered with spines. It also had six legs and a raised head. It used an acidic venom to melt its prey into goo before ingesting it. Hence the name Goopy.

Naturally, naming a living thing Goopy, did not sit well with serious scholars. It had been established that the discoverer of any new life form had priority naming rights. Historical categorical nomenclature was expected to be utilized but not required. Goopy was the first to break the mold.  The discord over the name escalated all the way to the High Council.  They upheld the naming rights of the discoverer, but instituted the Goopy Conjecture to appease purist scholars.  Their hope was that a Goopy would evolve rapidly in every universal iteration, and give them an opportunity to rename the creature appropriately.  Not only was their hope unfounded, the publicity the Goopy received inspired others to give ridiculous names to newly discovered life forms.  This led to naming plants and animals after long dead pets, family members, and favorite foods.  Scholars eventually gave up after realizing the infinite diversity of life of not only Universe 001, but each iteration after it.

I am proud to announce that I have won this iteration’s Goopy Conjecture. It is the eleventh instance, that the found creature is one that has been recorded in a prior universal iteration. The creature was named Francine in Universe 022. Its discoverer Jeff, named it after his romantic interest at the time. Francine took offense that such an ugly creature would be named after her. Francine (The creature) most resembled a slow-moving grey rock that oozed a pungent yellow slime.  Needless to say, the relationship did not last.

I’ve been considering a list of possible replacements and have chosen to rename the creature: Mortos the Devourer of Love. Runner up entries on my list included Blobby McBlob Face, The Dirty Meat Cushion, and Jeff.

On Kurlund’s Journal

And my writing in general…

On Monday I posted the first journal entry of Kurlund, a character in my upcoming book. I will be writing more of these entries and posting them once every ten days or so. Like any journal, some of the entries will be mundane in nature, while others give valuable insight into the lives and history of the ancient humans in the book. I am doing this for two reasons. One, I have fleshed out a History of the Universe and I will use Kurlund’s journal to go into more detail of some of the more important events. Two, my book is not complete. So, by posting occasional content, I hope to catch some interest of anyone who happens to stumble across this blog.

As for a Pocket Full of Strings, I dedicate at least 3 hours a week to writing. I am currently working through the last third of the book and have sent out fifteen chapters to some beta readers. It has been a slow process, and I now understand how it could take George RR Martin so long to write his books.

I also decided to start writing Where the Fabric is Thin. It will be a short story dealing with the existence of ghosts. I will create a page for the project once I get a little further along.

That is all for today, I’m off to the Renaissance Faire.

Personal Journal of Kurlund. Universe 117. Entry 1.

For this universal cycle, I have been assigned to the Library of Time. It will be a comfortable, but dull experience. It is by far the most equipped installation to keep us engaged and entertained, but the work is tedious. I've heard there will be a re-focused effort on research and technology. There have been less and less new ideas and breakthroughs over the last few cycles. I fear we may be coming to the limit of what we can achieve.

Though we no longer age, many in the past few cycles have spoken of growing tired and experiencing a yearning for death. I am just beginning to understand them. This Long Peace, I suspect, is taking a silent toll on our kind. We desperately need something new, something to inject life into us once more.

The first report I received to enter into the library database was a list of those who are unaccounted for. It was far more extensive than I would have guessed. I recognized a few of the names. I was not surprised to find them there. Some on that list gave into their desire for death, but most had undoubtedly attempted to leave the bounds of this universe in hopes to find a new one.

None have returned from that venture. I do not know whether it is due to a lack of wanting to come back, inability to return, or simply that they had died trying. I am concerned with how much the prospect intrigues me. Perhaps, I will be among the unaccounted-for list when the next iteration begins. For now, I am committed to our task. Maybe this time, something interesting will happen.

Happy Birthday

I’m launching this website later today. First website, first blog, but that is not the point of this post. Today is my father’s birthday, he’d be 69 (nice) if he were still with us. Rest in peace. For a man that claimed to have read only one book in his life, he was one hell of a story teller. The book was Kurt Vonnegut’s Welcome to the Monkey House. As a gag for Christmas one year, I bought my dad a plush Kurt Vonnegut doll. I taped a sign to its hands that read: “Will work for food”.

It made my dad laugh, so it goes.

I have the plushy Kurt Vonnegut now. He sits on my bookshelf, sign still in hand. I look at him sometimes, surrounded by books and wonder how my dad got through life reading only Welcome to the Monkey House. He gave me the copy of the book that he had read. The cover had fallen off, but he taped it back on. I no longer have that book, but I wish I did.

I began writing after my father passed. But I bet, if I had finished before then, he would have read two books in his life.

Happy Birthday Dad.