Chapter 2 – The Pre-Modern Mindscape: God-weather and the Lonely Mountains
Some things happen like clockwork, at the same time every cycle. Some people think like clocks work, each cog rolls a few others and the outcome becomes repeatable. In other words, clockwork people are just those that stopped fussing around with thinking thoughts and started fussing around with how they thought about thinking them, or so they think.
Avery Mann is one such thinker, who had used his thoughts on thinking to think himself to nearly every single one of the Guide’s excursions into the territories of Mental Space. But some will claim his clockwork thinking waxed beyond the abstract. He had a notable habit you see. He would click his tongue. He would click it when he was thinking, like a fan cooling a computer overclocking. And although he wasn’t in any way a clock of metal and glass, many would gossip that his baffling mannerisms left them unconvinced. This was especially so in Mental Space, where one cannot confidently assume a strict boundary between thought and form.
He is clicking now, his mind mid-way through the bottomless turtles. As the clicks come on, the people around him edge away as if they’ve heard a warning siren. They wonder with utter seriousness whether Avery will think until he erupts in madness at the principle of the infinite turtle-pile. Eyes grow wider and attention is drawn to Avery like a chain infection of yawns. The clicks clack faster as his mind raises its clip. Time couldn’t push him fast enough, so Avery ticks his own clock. The fast thinking Mann pushes time to keep up. His clicks are ticks on the second-hand arm of a wrist-watch no one is keen to own….
Avery stopped clicking.
People stopped gossiping.
Time pressed a palm to its face and pressed on.
Avery looked about the vessel and asked, “What’s got your attention?” His head didn’t steam, his eyes conveyed calm. A bold woman responded, “We’re wondering if you’re alright…with the turtles and all.” “Alright? It’s a pile of turtles a planet’s distance below us. It’s hardly going to do me any harm from down there. Are you worried about yourselves?” By the time he had begun his second sentence, nearly everyone had already turned their heads down, away or both out of embarrassment. They didn’t like Avery’s smug ignorance. They did not like it one bit.
Chapter 2 – The Pre-Modern Mindscape: God-weather and the Lonely Mountains
Some things happen like clockwork, at the same time every cycle. Some people think like clocks work, each cog rolls a few others and the outcome becomes repeatable. In other words, clockwork people are just those that stopped fussing around with thinking thoughts and started fussing around with how they think them. That is, or so they think. Avery Mann is one such thinker, who had used his thoughts on thinking to think himself to nearly every single one of the Guide’s excursions into Mental Space. And although he wasn’t in any ways a clock of metal and glass, he had such baffling mannerisms that sometimes made all around him forget exactly that. He’d click his tongue, you see. He’d click it when he was thinking.
