Welcome to Transcendental Gallery of Anti-realism, brought to you by the generous donations from the Skellig Michael Prayer Circle, whose unceasing holy utterances allow us all to continue. Be sure to check out their sister show, [[Stations of the Traveler->Station 1]]
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-welcome-tag.mp3" autoplay>[[T->TGA]]ranscendental
the logo is a closed eyelid
The music you are hearing now is a reconstruction of the last performance of Royal Gossemire Symphony, painstaking transcribed from the echoes remembered in the surrounding super strings that vibrate within the walls around you, and lovingly translated into a frequency of light that you can hear.
The fine [[spiders->Stabilimentum]] that played in the Royal Gossamer Symphony were renown for their musical articulations of pathos and delight. Spiders see the world in as much detail and color as we do, yet they cannot blink, or blur their eyes with tears, or turn their heads away from disturbing sights. They peer out over their proud and bushy mustaches and take in all the sights that we cannot stomach. No living creature, no matter how humble, can contain such sorrows, so the Royal Gossamer Symphony convened strum their sorrows into song.
But, one by one, each spider musician faded, even as they played. They all devoted their lives to the music. They left no children or training behind. The world shall never witness their like again. All that is left of their performance is vibrating mere at femto-angstroms within quantum superstrings, 7 dimensions removed from our own. Soon, even the superstrings will forget this music, and all that will remain is this garbled reconstruction, a revearant mockery of the Royal Gossamer Symphony.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-tag-2-royal-gossamer-symphony.mp3" autoplay>Stardust
When our star was young, pirouetting through the shimmering clouds of the Milky Way Spiral, it gathered dusts and rocks in its reach and spun together the planets on the loom of gravity. It did this to remember its ancestors, the many stars that came before that passed [[the dance->Waterfalls]] down the line to they. This platinum here, once a whirling pulsar, drumming the [[rhythm of the dance->Symphony]] into the electromagnetic spectrum. This silver here, once mighty white dwarf, hammering together the lighter elements of its forebears into argentate ingot heirlooms. This gold here, pressed together in the toiling heart of a yellow sun just like our own, for 8 billion years.
Now, our star is approaching its halfway point in life. Must they marvel to shine upon our surface and see our glittering works of ossified stardust? Or do they dim a little to see how we’ve cracked into the ancestral cinerary urn that is our world, to plunder the honored riches of
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-tag-3-glittering-ossified-stardust.mp3" autoplay>Toil
In that chamber far below, only observable through the fragile negaparascope, a old racoon sits at a tiny computer, typing away with urgent yet failing strength. What he’s typing seems to be very important. His curled arthritic paws pop and buckle with strain of each keystroke. Every couple of lines, he saves his work, and the progress bar mercifully offers the old racoon a few precious moments to shut his eyes and rest. What is this enormous text file? What could be worth the torment and sacrifice of shutting himself away in this remote chamber to type? We’ll just have to wait until he’s done to find out.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-tag-4-toil.mp3" autoplay>Advent
Computer programmer, Will Crowther, was an experienced caver and often took his family with him into the bedquilt caverns of western kentucky. In 1972, he was divorced from his wife, lost custody of his daughters, and moved to take a job at BBN Technologies, a military contractor in Cambridge, Massachusetts. [[Crowther missed his daughters->Toil]], and used his spare time to develop a text-based adventure game in Fortran on BBN's PDP-10 mainframe. This game, which came to be known as [[Advent->Station 12]], short for adventure, recreated the experience of navigating the bedquilt caverns so perfectly that it can be used to navigate the actual cave system in place of a map.
As the game was copied onto the early internet, programmers added their own text passages and random encounters to Advent, such as this one by Dave Platt:
From the darkness nearby comes the sound of shuffling feet. As you turn towards the sound, a nine-foot cyclops ambles into the light of your lamp. The cyclops is dressed in a three-piece suit of worsted wool, and is wearing a black silk top-hat and cowboy boots and is carrying an ebony walking-stick. It catches sight of you and stops, seeming frozen in its tracks, with its bloodshot eye bulging in amazement and its fang-filled jaw drooping with shock. After staring at you in [[incredulous disbelief->Anti-realism]] for a few moments, it reaches into the pocket of its vest and pulls out a small plastic bag filled with a leafy green substance, and examines it carefully. "It must be worth eighty pazools an ounce after all" mumbles the cyclops, who casts one final look at you, shudders, and staggers away out of sight.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-tag-6-advent.mp3" autoplay>The Ladder
He came to a certain place and stayed there for the night, because the sun had set. Taking one of the stones of the place, he put it under his head and lay down in that place. And he dreamed that there was a ladder set up on the earth, the top of it [[reaching to heaven->Waterfalls]]; and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it. And he dreamed that there was a ladder set up on the earth, the top of it [[reaching to heaven->Waterfalls]]; and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it. And he dreamed that there was a ladder set up on the earth, the top of it [[reaching to heaven->Waterfalls]]; and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it. And he dreamed that there was a ladder set up on the earth, the top of it [[reaching to heaven->Waterfalls]]; and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-tag-7-the-ladder.mp3" autoplay>The Past
A group of blind men heard that a strange animal had been brought to the town, but none of them were aware of its shape and form. Out of curiosity, they said: "We must inspect and know it by touch, of which we are capable". So, they sought it out, and when they found it they groped about it. The first person said "it is a pillar like a tree-trunk". Another person said "it is a wall". The last felt the pedestal where these words appear: "My name is Ozymandias, [[king of kings->Station 5]]; Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-tag-8-past.mp3" autoplay>TGA
Transient global amnesia (TGA) is a neurological disorder whose key defining characteristic is a temporary but almost total disruption of short-term memory with a range of problems accessing older memories. A person in a state of TGA exhibits no other signs of impaired cognitive functioning but recalls only the last few moments of consciousness, as well as possibly a few deeply encoded facts of the individual's past, such as their childhood, family, or home perhaps.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-tag-9-tga.mp3" autoplay>Machine Sonnet
The Neukom Institute for Computational Science at Dartmouth College has announced the winners of the"[[Turing Tests->Otto]] in the Creative Arts."
The winning sonnet was written by a machine programmed by Charese Smiley and Hiroko Bretz,Thomson Reuters Research and Development, MN, USA
And be very careful crossing the streets.
How fair an entrance breaks the way to love!
Left, doors leading into the apartments.
Just then a light flashed from the cliff above.
The fields near the house were invisible.
Objects of alarm were near and around.
The window had only stuck a little.
From the big apple tree down near the pond.
The large cabin was in total darkness.
Come marching up the eastern hill afar.
When is the clock on the stairs dangerous?
Everything seemed so near and yet so far.
Behind the wall silence alone replied.
Was, then, even the [[staircase->Stairs]] occupied?
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-tag-10-machine-sonnet.mp3" autoplay>Covenant
He said to him, “Bring me a heifer three years old, a female goat three years old, a ram three years old, a turtledove, and a young pigeon.” He brought him [[all these and cut them in two->Station 10]], laying each half over against the other; but he did not cut the birds in two. And when birds of prey came down on the carcasses, he drove them away. As the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell upon him, and a deep and terrifying darkness descended upon him.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-tag-11-covenant.mp3" autoplay>Axel Grease
In 1901, Josephine Zambrano created an installation of dozens of slowly turning rusty grindings gears that discharged mountains of axle grease onto the floor. This was response to losing all three of her children to textile factory machine accidents. One after another, year after year, her children slipped into the workings of the factory [[machinery->Machine Sonnet]], which the factory didn’t even bother to shut off to try to save them. And they died.
A local newspaper called the Axle Grease installation, a quote [[“real mess”->Station 12]] unquote.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-tag-12-axel-grease.mp3" autoplay>Anti-realism
The Transcendental Gallery of Anti-realism defines anti-realism as: an epistemological position in opposition to Berkeleyan Idealism and Platonic realism, which state that all signs point to an external signified objective reality. Anti-realism proposes that it is more productive, and indeed more respectful of the innate value and dignity of all [[living beings->Otto]], to agree that all signs point to an internal signified subjective reality, as experiences in through [[incompleteness->The Past]] by each individual perceiver.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-tag-13-antirealism.mp3" autoplay>The Richard Mutt Case
They say any artist paying six dollars may exhibit. Mr. Richard Mutt sent in a fountain. Without discussion, this article disappeared and never was exhibited. What were the grounds for refusing Mr. Mutt’s fountain:- 1. Som contend it was immoral, vulgar. 2. Others, it was plagiarism, a plain piece of plumbing.
Now Mr. Mutt’s fountain is not immoral, that is absurd, no more than a bathtub is immoral. It is a fixture that you see every day in plumber’ show windows. Whether Mr. Mutt with his own hands made the fountain or not has no importance. [[He CHOSE it->Art]]. He took an ordinary article of life, placed it so that its useful significance disappeared under the new title and point of view- created a new thought for that object.
As for plumbing, thats absurds. The only works of art America has given are her [[plumbing->Axel Grease]] and her bridges.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-tag-15-mutt-case.mp3" autoplay>Otto
Sitting on the brushed steel chair before you is Otto the True Android Child. They think, they feel, they dream, right here in front of you. Turing was invented by renowned [[roboticist->Machine Sonnet]] Dr Balthazar Umatarō, who sadly could not live to see his creation activated. Turing is exactly as self-determining as any human child, but they have a long way to go before they are grown up. What will they become? Who will they grow into? Will they fulfill the dreams of their childhood? Such questions! What an enormous thing to force on matter, to ask it [[to be alive->Triad]].
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-tag-16-otto.mp3" autoplay>Stairs
The monks at [[Skellig Michael Monastery->Station 1]] have been praying while walking [[up and down->The Ladder]] the ancient stone steps day and night for a thousand years. They can no longer do this. There ceaseless footsteps have worn the steps down to a polished and nearly friction-less incline. No one can climb the step anymore.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-tag-17-stairs.mp3" autoplay>Old Ball Game
The last game of the Historical Baseball Reenactment Society has been scheduled for next spring in the drained Eden Park Reservoir. In it’s decades of operation they have painstakingly recreated every detail of the 1903 World Series Championship game between the Boston Americans and the Pittsburgh Pirates. It has taken them decades of dedication and practice to recreate this [[historic->The Past]] game in full costume and period accurate equipment. After the president of the society retired last year after collapsing in fatigue on the field, he was 97, the other members had to admit they were all getting a bit too old for the activity, the average age of society members is 83. In the 351 reenactments played of the 1903 World Series Championship game, [[0 reenactments->Toil]] were reported as accurate to the specifications of the society.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-tag-18-old-ball-game.mp3" autoplay>Stabilimentum
Orb Weaver [[spiders->Symphony]], among other species, spin thick white patterns of intricate tessellations into their webs. This pattern is called Stabilimentum because it was once thought that the purpose was to stabilized the web architectural. But now it's uncertain. Some biologists believe it to be a way of attracting prey to the web by camouflage the web as a flower to land on. After all, how could an invisible thread attract any prey without some kind of [[lure or bait->Art]] ?
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-tag-19-stabilimentum.mp3" autoplay>Triad
Famed psychologist Jacque Lacan’s conceived the psychoanalytic model known as the triad, consisting of the imaginary, the symbolic, and the real. Lacan identifies a key stage in every human’s life, called the mirror stage. When a child with sufficient cognitive development looks into the mirror and first recognizes themselves, a [[horrific realization transpires->Covenant]], from which there is no complete recovery. The child realizes that others see them as the image in the mirror, not as the complex cloud of first-person experience they have only conceptualised themself as up to that point. From that moment on, all behavior occurs in a venn diagram of three circles, the triad.
The first circle is the [[imaginary->Anti-realism]]; the way we internalize the external experiences and think of ourselves. The second circle is the [[symbolic->Art]]; the way we externalize the internal experiences and behave or preform to be known as ourselves by others. The third circle is the [[real->Numbers Stations]], our subconscious screaming from the bottom of the well dug by the imaginary and the symbolic. As humans live and express and understand themselves and the world around them, they are torn between two paradoxical drives, the desire to be understood and the shame of being seen as we are.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-tag-20-triad.mp3" autoplay>Art
The Transcendental Gallery of Anti-Realism defines art as: an intentionally created artifact or experience made to convey a [[message encoded->Numbers Stations]] within a medium that, when experienced or perceived by an audience, is decoded and produces an emotional response that is contingent on encountering the work.
The Transcendental Gallery of Anti-Realism goes on to define dark-art as: any aspect of art that our definition of art cannot explain. This is to make art mirror the presence of dark matter, which account for 75% of the gravity in the universe, even though we cannot detect it or measure it directly in anyway.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-tag-22-art.mp3" autoplay>Station 1
The Time Traveler knew it would happen that night. He had finally stopped dry heaving, but he couldn’t stop shaking. If only the accident didn't happen, if only the important man in the desert wasn't killed, but no, it was impossible to fix any other way.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-station-1.mp3" autoplay>Station 2
The Traveler saw his Confidant looking for him in the garden with a hesitation in his searching. The Traveler walked over and assured his confidant that it was alright, that he understood what had to be done. His confidant kissed the Traveler. The soldiers came and took the Traveler away.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-station-2.mp3" autoplay>Station 3
The Traveler was brought to the priests. The priests asked the Traveler if he was there King. The Traveler said that if he said who he was, they would not believe him.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-station-3.mp3" autoplay>Station 4
The Traveler's friend was outside, and was asked by a servant if he knew the Traveler. The friend denied it. When the servant insisted she recognized him, the friend denied it twice more. Then the cock crowed, and the Traveler’s friend remembered what the Traveler had said and wept bitterly.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-station-4.mp3" autoplay>Station 5
The Traveler was brought to the judge. The judge asked only if the Traveler was a King to the Priests. The Traveler said that his kingdom was not of this earth. The judge took that as an admission of guilt.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-station-5.mp3" autoplay>Station 6
The Traveler was chained to a pillar and whipped until his back ran with blood. The mob gathered by the priests mockingly crowned him their king with a circle of thorns.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-station-6.mp3" autoplay>Station 7
The Traveler was made to carry a large cross of wooden beams to the hill where he would be slowly executed. The jeers and spears of the crowd and soldiers weren't all that kept him going. He had to reach that hill. Hid wounds screamed and his muscles seized, but he had to make it to that hill.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-station-7.mp3" autoplay>Station 8
The Traveler kept falling over. He couldn't make it. After everything he done wrong, this final failure to doom all of humanity. The warm filth of the street embraced his face. But the soldiers saw him, and ordered a stranger to help the Traveler carry the cross to the hill. It was not over then.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-station-8.mp3" autoplay>Station 9
The Traveler sees the women in the streets crying for him. But why should they waste their weeping on him?. He would soon be dead, but they must live on as women in a cruel world full of men.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-station-9.mp3" autoplay>Station 10
The Traveler was nailed onto the beams of the cross like an eviction notice. He discovered that he still had the strength to wail and holler until the soldiers hoisted the cross erect and the weight of his torso on his broken legs was too much and he began to suffocate.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-station-10.mp3" autoplay>Station 11
The Traveler hung on the cross next to two thieves. The Traveler said nothing. The thieves said nothing. They were in exquisite agony and moments away from death.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-station-11.mp3" autoplay>Station 12
The Traveler's vision blurred. He saw the mother of the important man had come to see him die on the cross. Traveler's beloved stood beside her.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-station-12.mp3" autoplay>Station 13
A soldier pierced the Traveler's limp body with a spear to be sure that he died. Blood and fluids flowed from the wound. The Traveler died, taking on all the sins of the future church, to safeguard the rest of human history.
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-station-13.mp3" autoplay>Station 14
The Traveler’s body was wrapped and shrouded and placed in a tomb. The soldiers rolled a great stone over the tomb and stood guard to see that nothing would happen to the body of the Time Traveler. Thousands of years later, the Traveler would be born, invent a time machine, travel to the ancient desert, accidentally slay the important man, then be crucified in his place, for us.
[[Return to MAIN->Welcome]]
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-station-14.mp3" autoplay>Waterfalls
Drifting along the gravitational eddies from the remote corners of the Kuiper Belt, or washing in on the [[galactic tide->Stardust]] from the depths of the Oort Cloud, these super orbital waterfalls circumvolve in a silent ballet around our star. When the stage lights of the solar winds strike their glittering vestments, they unroll ethereal tails of cool mist, 6 million miles long.
As close as we are now, you might feel a chill tingle on your cheek from the passing falls. Pull your warm blanket around you and squint into the dazzling prismatic spray while it lasts, for soon these falls will sink back into the inky fathoms beyond the planets, not to return for a generation. Will you still be standing when it passes by again, perhaps with a younger friend to share in the vicarious delerium of their first fall sighting? Or by then, will your rickety, brittle frame have surrendered to the same gravitational embrace that directs the dancing of the spheres?
<audio src="https://transcendentalgallery.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/tga-tag-1-waterfalls.mp3" autoplay>Numbers Stations
Shortwave Numbers Stations are a perfect method of [[anonymous, one way communication->Art]]. Spies located anywhere in the world can be communicated to by their masters via small, locally available, and unmodified Shortwave receivers. The encryption system used by Numbers [[Stations->Station 1]], known as a one time pad is unbreakable. Combine this with the fact that it is almost impossible to track down the message recipients once they are inserted into the enemy country, it becomes clear just how powerful the Numbers Station system is.
<audio src="https://ia800304.us.archive.org/25/items/ird059/tcp_d1_09_ready_ready_15728_irdial.mp3" autoplay loop>[[Advent]]-[[Anti-realism]]-[[Art]]-[[Axel Grease]]-[[Covenant]]-[[Machine Sonnet]]-[[Numbers Stations]]-[[Old Ball Game]]-[[Otto]]-[[Stabilimentum]]-[[Stairs]]-[[Stardust]]-[[Symphony]]-[[TGA]]-[[The Ladder]]-[[The Past]]-[[The Richard Mutt Case]]-[[Toil]]-[[Triad]]-[[Waterfalls]]