Measures the ebb and flow of the tides across the wall of the Unseen.

I think that the real beauty is found when some things are left to the imagination, and that the narrower the view taken, the more you limit your audience and your growth, but that is probably best left to another post all its own.

What I like to ponder is how to stretch boundaries and what the future holds. Are there battles for the souls of the masses and places where ideas become alive and scrape and gnaw each other to the bone?

Of course there are. This is the retrofuture.

Many of us have been waiting for this time for eons untold, for a chance to claw across the wasteland stretching between the airships and armored liquified-coal fired trains on our way to decadence unseen by mortal eyes. The eldritch items crafted by artists driven insane through dangerous process. The sweet elixirs prepared by the chefs and alchemists working in bustling back room laboratory kitchens. The rich fabrics, brocades, and multi-layered laces piled up to the sky.

The strangers converge into a new place, a place where those Of Unique mental breeding may refound the ways, to retrap the surviving and to Plot new curves across the waters. Lightly we bide what we may, bringing Our lusts forward and then back, racing our blood around from heart to eyes to abdomen. the cycles of birth and reproduction corrupted into a surreal new order. Dislodged from proper time, we dance under filtered light and we trade wry observances withering within a twittering electrified bird's beak.

Patterns emerge, old and new and as yet untold. Some may notice the fraying at the edges of reality, in the spaces where matter and spirit twist and coil into one another. Personality is devoured by information, which in turn eventually coughs up a bastard child in the form of image. This image is scattered within various data streams uploaded across this, our barely sane fledgling hive mind. Those who consume become consumed.

America, the new frontier within.

The system uses these patterns to generate fractal social circles, orders of magnitude above and below the levels normally experienced in human culture. It is in the spaces between these orders that we may find previously unseen shapes of light and sound, we begin to learn of our other dimensions, our selves as translated into spirit. What we create becomes us. It instills the world below us on the pattern with our meaning, much as we are sculpted by the machinations of those above us, each on our own particular fractal arms of the universe. Once perceived, one may choose to see in new ways, as events become echoes and fore-echoes, the spirits speak of humanity as humans speak of the weather.

The storm briefly calms.

Will we remember you and yours? Will you still be inside yourself ten minutes from now?