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Recruitment (short web story)

Recruitment (short web story)



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Published by Ade McO-Campbell
A young man is shown a glimpse into the outlooks of a secretive order of web artists...(July 2007)

Part of the neurOceans series of Web Future writings.
A young man is shown a glimpse into the outlooks of a secretive order of web artists...(July 2007)

Part of the neurOceans series of Web Future writings.

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Published by: Ade McO-Campbell on Jul 13, 2009
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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RECRUITMENT to the Secret Artists of the FIRECUBE
A young man is shown a glimpse into the outlooks of a secretive order of webartists.....
..(July 2007)
He remembered how it had begun, and how things had changed…..As a young student, seeking some connection, or a revolution, he had walked outinto the darkening remains of a winter evening and climbed old steps onto oldercity walls. They were Roman in origin, and encircled most of the small, hardyEnglish city of Chester. A fine layer of frost made the stones glisten with icingunder the moon and the streetlights. There had been no need for revolution here,
, where real life flowed as italways did, and always would, subjecting human imagination and freedom to itsstark and awesome nature. In those younger, slower days of the virtual web,there was only the revolution
; a fiery chaos of latent thoughts andundirected expressionism. Impatiently it sought a new age and slicker, more lucidsystems where their beings could more easily be known and more at peace in thegreat, incessant trend of life towards belonging and balance…for however short atime. The streets and rooftops glinted in the pure air and he’d inhaled deeply, trying toreach reconciliation with his soul; a contentment that would know its purpose,feel free in its being and with the friends he’d soon return to. For he’d left themhuddled back in the house they shared, gathered round a fiery television andlaughing at the absurdities generated by themselves and in the worlds shown tothem. He wished only for a way to join them with some inner peace and not withall this
for ways and means to reach his dreams, and the
enough to focus on them; to spend solitary time required for their absolutefruition…..For their time was brief and their dreams would rise and stand betweenthem when their courses ended.However, in his dreams within that chilly night, patrolling the well-worn city that,now, his distracted generation had inherited, one hope also lived….That theywould be more fully united, when the web-worlds had grown enough to cater fortheir beings, their laughter and their freedoms, and his own art, withdrawn morefrom this smothering immediacy of life….. They’d known little of the web then, but through it - somehow - he might findthem again, and be better known….
With all our joys before us like a land of dreams…
But also, deeper within, he feared the cost of all this; he
it, as he knew thewind through fields of barley back in his home-lands.
; the illusions of control that was living and breathing.
If only the technology was ready now
.Without it, the cost would be their time and their youth and, potentially, theirtenuous friendship itself, dependent as it was on the present … in this real cityinside the walls, and less on any shared future…..He’d walked on. Dreaming forwards. How he’d dreamed for a configuration tofocus it away; to surrender his complexity
. But it lay locked and urgent in hisintroverted character, outlines seeking the long task of colouring to come.
His restless passion and its need for glory stirred within; his need to achieve,mixing with his fear and inexperience, of what he was and what he would be ableto do here, amidst the distractions of reality. It was a vicious, discontented circleof powerless, powerful youth.
Now is the winter of our discontent….
He’d dug his hands into deep pockets of his thick coat. On that night in anortherly part of England he’d completed a half tour along the crumbling stone,before turning back. The walls had once been raised in fortification againstattack, and just as it provided such protection for the inhabitants, it also held fourgateways, permitting access to its sanctuary.A stranger huddled past him, and they exchanged a fleeting assessment of oneother – she, a mirror of his own furtive youth - before they hurriedly looked away.
Who are you behind your eyes? Do you and I share similar dreams?
Hedescended near the North gate and made his way down the empty road.
For so long have we been confined by space….and distance …Just to be knownand with power in a normal life; a simple life
…..Such were his thoughts. But first, he would face himself, and Time, five yearslater, connected deep into the London web-world, where his destiny would findhim and change him, immeasurably. For he would ‘meet’ someone, the person tohelp him break the circle; to breach the walls in his nature in a transcendence of the reality that had constructed them.

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