Genesis 1.1

Fractal he said, and there were 2.
And in these 2, the same they were.
The basics of art, the foundation of math.
Reflected in themselves were each other.

http://i41.tinypic.com/2uqngbt.jpg
A Sierpinski Triangle, green background.

http://i44.tinypic.com/20iw4xy.jpg
Same thing... but... BCG.

Mind you, this fractal is hand-drawn. A sixth-generation Sierpinski Triangle... goes to show how bored I am.

Personal information, and mind control.

A completely deceptive title. This is about my personal (non-personal) information and about mental control. If this were an English essay, it'd probably fall flat at the title.

Now. About me. I'm not sure. Seriously. Identity crisis is a little... maddening at times. I'm not bipolar, nor hallucinating, nor most other mental disorders. Online, my tone, identity and style of communication is completely different when in real life. A mere normal habit to cultivate, except that there's leakage both ways. Sometimes I write in real life with the sort of half-baked craziness online, and online I sometimes am a little more reserved than usual for that period.

Also, I have somewhat of a problem with mild mental failures. Self-diagnosed OCD, if you will, and a complex that leans preferentially toward unusual phraseology to discuss an otherwise elementary thesis. All things that make daily life... odd. Interesting. And mostly odd.

Mind control: Mind over matter. Mind has an unlimited control over your own self; you just have to subscribe to a reality you truly believe in and have its rules be imposed over "normal" physical rules. What is so normal about physics anyway? Also, one can exert a control over one's mind to clear thoughts out of it (a useful tool) and even tap into the domain of the subconscious to somewhat accurately predict events.

As a finisher, I think the world's on the brink of a major pandemic, and localised epidemics of more deadly diseases. The number of coughing people on public transport, I notice, has drastically increased, and it's only a matter of time before an incubating disease is released at large into the world. Don't take this as gospel or even a rumour; but it seems wholly possible.

The heck with cures and magical medicines,
The era of the virus may start at any time.
The danger's brewing, the germs are stewing,
The final tempo, the haste to man's last war.

HAPPY. NEW. YEAR.

(Not for those in timezones GMT -11:00 -- GMT -1:00... Yet.)

The new year descends in stages across the world,
The arrival of another subject of rhyme.
Yet what is this festival of new and old,
But an arbitrary marker of time?
It's been 364 days since January the second,
(365; 'twas a leap year last.)
But it's on this particular cosmological second
That we choose to be rid of the past.

The new year brings forth many interesting challenges
(Damn you, probability, don't get in my way)
Especially the one where it's last year's work
That I haven't yet finished today.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!