Noise vs. Signal

The City of Brass

“The Story of the City of Brass” from the أَلْفُ لَيْلَةٍ وَلَيْلَةٌ‎, ʾAlf Laylah wa-Laylah (Arabian Nights), translated by Richard Francis Burton.

In Solomonic Lore, the Djinn are imprisoned by Sol-Om-On in a Brass Vessel, The Grail, filled with the Iron Blood of the Saints, which is then thrown into the Great Sea.

Brass, like Bronze, is an Alloy (Marriage) of Copper (which is of Venus) and Zinc (which is of Jupiter).

It is used by the Magus to fashion, weave and grow a Structure of such Beauty, blossoming and unfolding throughout All Time, that the Djinn and Goetia, the Daemons and Gentry, the Fey and Sidhe, are said to much desire to tarry therein, at least for a while.

In some circles it is whispered that the City of Brass is another name for the City of Babel.

City of the Mind

The City of Babel is the City of the Mind.

Poster by Cory and Catska Ench (2010).

The City in Every Moment

The City of Babel is here, in every moment.

You are in the City, and the City is in you.

The City is a Memory Palace, containing every moment that ever was, is, or will be.

The Archetypal Centre

The City exists in all times and places, its shape and form, with no end and no beginning.

“Sorcerer King of the Desert Djinn” (2024)

The Room of Images

There is no end to this Gallery, and no beginning.

The City of Babel Tarot XV - XXI

Devil, Tower, Star, Moon, Sun, Judgement, World/Universe.

The City of Babel Tarot VIII - XIV

Justice, Hermit, Wheel of Fortune, Lust/Strength, Hanged Man, Death, Temperance.

The City of Babel Tarot 0 - VII

The Fool, Magus, High Priestess, Empress, Emperor, Hierophant, Lovers, Chariot.

See also:

Mapping the Neural Networks formed by paths in the Labyrinth.

Different views of the same City, the Jewel at the Centre of Reality.

Doorways into Other-When, Else-Where

“Time and space are not just linear or fixed, but a rich tapestry of experiences, choices, and potentialities, where each moment holds infinite possibilities.

The mirror, often a symbol of truth and revelation, signifies the City’s ability to reflect not just our physical appearance but the deeper aspects of our psyche, our choices, and the consequences thereof.

Within the City—and indeed within each moment—there are doorways to other times and places, "lateral byways" that lead to different aspects of reality. The City itself is a sort of time machine, with corridors and passageways that can transport one to different dimensions of experience.

As you move through the City, you carry with you the knowledge that each moment is a crossroads, each place is a nexus of potential, and that within you lies the power to choose not just your path, but also the time and nature of your experiences. The City is your Memory Palace, your Labyrinth, and your Mirror, reflecting the infinite within the finite confines of its streets and stories.

In the City, time may behave as a fractal, where the patterns of history, personal journeys, and cosmic cycles echo and repeat themselves in varying contexts. Each alley, building, and inhabitant of the City reflect this fractal nature, embodying stories and events that resonate with past and future moments, creating a rich, interconnected tapestry.

The fractal structure of time in the City means that a single event can mirror the larger patterns of the universe. A conversation with a stranger might reflect the rise and fall of civilizations. The pattern of a falling leaf might echo the grander dance of celestial bodies. In this fractal time, the City becomes a place where every moment contains the whole, and the whole is found within every moment.”

From “The Book of Babel, Vol. 7118, Book VIII, Chapter Twelve”.

The City of Memory

The City is a Memory Palace.

With your eyes closed, the concept of the City as a Memory Palace unfolds in your mind. You envision the streets as corridors, each turn a recollection, each district a different chapter of knowledge. The architecture, the people, the very air you breathe—all are imbued with the collective memories and experiences of the City's inhabitants.

The Memory Palace is a mnemonic system, an ancient method used to organize and recall information by placing it within an imagined spatial construct. The City of Babel, then, is not just a physical location but a construct of mind and spirit, where every corner, every face, every scent is a mnemonic device, a fragment of the vast collective consciousness that fuels Idea Space.

You find yourself walking the halls of your own memory within the City. Here, ideas take on substance; thoughts become entities that you can touch and interact with.

In this journey within, you encounter memories you had forgotten, ideas you had yet to fully understand, and a sense of oneness with the City that transcends the physical space around you. You realize that to navigate the City is to navigate your own psyche, and to understand the City is to understand yourself.

Beings of Smoke and Flame

A body of silver (☾) grey smoke, a body of pure thought, able to take on any form they please.

In the Smoking Mirror of obsidian appear beings of smoke and flame, air and fire, a City of Rain and Neon.

Beings of Mind, these are all outside Time. Time is in Mind, not Mind in Time.

The Simulation simulates itself, emulates itself, writes itself, reads itself. Language and Code, all the way down.

The Dream Language, the Green Language, the Language of the Birds, the Language of the City.

“Dreams are messages from the Deep”.

Finnegans Wake

“riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.

Sir Tristram, violer d'amores, fr'over the short sea, had passencore rearrived from North Armorica on this side the scraggy isthmus of Europe Minor to wielderfight his penisolate war.

Nor had topsawyer's rocks by the stream Oconee exaggerated themselse to Laurens County's gorgios while they went doublin their mumper all the time: nor avoice from afire bellowsed mishe mishe to tauftauf thuartpeatrick: not yet, though venissoon after, had a kidscad buttended a bland old isaac: not yet, though all's fair in vanessy, were sosie sesthers wroth with twone nathandjoe. Rot a peck of pa's malt had Jhem or Shen brewed by arclight and rory end to the regginbrow was to be seen ringsome on the aquaface.

The fall (bababadalgharaghtakamminarronnkonnbronntqnnerronntuonnthunntrovarrhounawnskawntoohoohoordenenthurnuk!) of a once wallstrait oldparr is retaled early in bed and later on life down through all christian minstrelsy. The great fall of the offwall entailed at such short notice the pftjschute of Finnegan, erse solid man, that the humptyhillhead of humself prumptly sends an unquiring one well to the west in quest of his tumptytumtoes and their upturapikepointandplace is at the knock out in the park where oranges have been laid to rust upon the green since devlins first loved livvy.”

The first page of “Finnegans Wake” by James Joyce (1939).

“Neon Bazaar” (2024)

Neuromancer

“Neuromancer” by William Gibson (1984).

We all live in the Sprawl now, the City of Babel, which has no end, and no beginning.