I have been thinking about recursion a lot lately. Recursion in 4 dimensions as a model for the way the universe works.

To give my ideas form, as well as to actually explore the way the universe works, I decided to write science fiction. As a kid I recognized that, at its best, scifi is a synthetic environment for understanding the human species. If carefully constructed, an imagined world is a model that actually predicts behavior and outcomes. An accurate model is something systemizers like me need when we try to make sense of our environment.

Constructing a plausible future in science fiction requires faithfully applying the rules of science as we currently understand them. A reward for going through the process is that if I reach an understanding about the human species and its universe, then I will have found myself. (Huh, nice recursion in the way that works.)

To put it another way, I, like artist Peter Bodnar of whom I wrote in an earlier post, have also found the problem I want to spend my life's work on... finally. My mother certainly had me nailed when she called me a late bloomer.

My problem is an ancient one, and so is the solution -- but we seem to need to remind ourselves of it constantly, in every communication form that we create. Naturally, I've been here before, but the landscape and vehicle were a little different each time I passed. I have found my voice this pass, and this is it.

My voice doesn't sound anything like Peter's. If you like Peter's voice, you can buy a little piece of it and hang it in your living room, or... maybe the bedroom would be better. But if you, acting as a sort of distributed patron, gamble on a little piece of mine, you wouldn't be able to pick up any winnings, even if you win.

As for your odds of winning, I can tell you that the first word in my book is "I", and the last word is "Trust." If you simply think about your odds, you will become a part of my illustration of recursion. ∞

[Next: a book exerpt and an exercise.]