NULL
The null permeates the black. A funny thing, that. How could a null fill black? Isn’t black, well, null itself? That’s the funny thing about black. It’s a word used to describe a concept. A color. Or rather the absence of color. That is really the trick about black. Without color, there is nothing for black to be absent from. It’s own existence would not be. No, null is not black. Null is not anything.
Null is also not nothing.
Null is not even the LACK of a thing. Null is not an empty space, because an empty space requires a not empty space to exist in. Just as black only exists because of white, empty only exists because of full. Null is hard to think of. Thinking of null undoes the null itself. It is a rather vicious and contrary concept that designs itself to be the undoing of men. How then do you describe a thing that is undone by the description? Perhaps you can not. Perhaps it is the errand of mad men, spending their time howling at the walls and soaking things in unholy visages to sate their own strange hungers. Perhaps these same men have seen the true eye of null.
When one looks to the vast open sky’s at night, one sees much open and profoundly empty space. That is exactly what space is. Empty, profoundly. This is also exactly what null is not. Space is empty and that is very inviting for things. Things can turn that empty in to a full. If you replaced the empty with null, there would be no invitation given. In fact, things would not even be aware of the null. Awareness would negate the nullness, a sort of self-cancelling mechanism.
You can’t see null, but you can see empty.
I do digress at this point. The null permeates the black. A funny thing, that. At once both held together and yet ripped together. The black and the null dance and mingle. The boundary between them shifting, changing, disappearing. The site is almost auditory in it’s movement. The sound of vacancy, the sound of null. That is what this thing smells like.
Null is also not nothing.
Null is not even the LACK of a thing. Null is not an empty space, because an empty space requires a not empty space to exist in. Just as black only exists because of white, empty only exists because of full. Null is hard to think of. Thinking of null undoes the null itself. It is a rather vicious and contrary concept that designs itself to be the undoing of men. How then do you describe a thing that is undone by the description? Perhaps you can not. Perhaps it is the errand of mad men, spending their time howling at the walls and soaking things in unholy visages to sate their own strange hungers. Perhaps these same men have seen the true eye of null.
When one looks to the vast open sky’s at night, one sees much open and profoundly empty space. That is exactly what space is. Empty, profoundly. This is also exactly what null is not. Space is empty and that is very inviting for things. Things can turn that empty in to a full. If you replaced the empty with null, there would be no invitation given. In fact, things would not even be aware of the null. Awareness would negate the nullness, a sort of self-cancelling mechanism.
You can’t see null, but you can see empty.
I do digress at this point. The null permeates the black. A funny thing, that. At once both held together and yet ripped together. The black and the null dance and mingle. The boundary between them shifting, changing, disappearing. The site is almost auditory in it’s movement. The sound of vacancy, the sound of null. That is what this thing smells like.