§2[ENG] - Intro to the worldbuilding of Rex in Space: the White Hole!

 

July 2, 2023. 
Intro to the worldbuilding of Rex in Space: the white hole!

When you live in a confined space like the outskirts, the limitation goes beyond geographical and logistical constraints; it becomes cultural. Of course, there are social networks, the internet, friends to visit, and conferences to attend, but in the end, they all represent a very small degree of freedom. Then there is a well-known and well-worn way of backwardness in the peripheral country turned city, or rather, a hyperplastic city that doesn't seek answers because it lacks the necessary foundation to add substance to its fabric; it simply feeds on what it already knows. 

When you understand all of this, it marks the end of the adolescent phase, allowing you to admit, without the need for a selection process at the "university of life" to a state of precynicism that leads to urban survival, a mental condition of mere survival. It's not resilience but rather a pure attitude of finding spaces where you can breathe. You do understand why Salgari would sit and masterfully think about the East Indies Seas! You do understand why literature, well-written literature (because there is only well-written and poorly-written, no third option), is a powerful key to decrypting the human experience! Then, being lazy, you shift to the noble substitute of cinema, but that's another story. 

The white space is a black hole, or rather, a white hole, that starts pulling all matter, all of your matter, as the world continues to rotate undisturbed by the cosmic alteration of the clean page. At first, you resist it, but then, with the help of a rainy day, you decide that it could also be your journey.

You yield, allowing yourself to be dematerialized, teleported, recoded, or similar, and you become part of that flatland made of fonts, line spacing, and keys that skip words and the damned accents that you skip due to haste, and then out of scruples, you go back to correct them, as if a god of writing were to curse your work. And if his arrogant priests were to appear, a process of apostasy of the concave or convex accent would already be underway. Woe betide the omitted elisions!On the other side, a skyscraper seems to be waiting for you, a neon stripe has already started to hypnotize you. 

The typical buzz of a new world has scanned your cochlea three times already and your personal range of audibility. Perhaps a subliminal message is already on its way to the prefrontal cortex, dissuading you from paying attention to a purported and ubiquitous resistance. But it's a dystopia, how can you not dedicate your attention to resistance? It's the flow of everyday life that no longer tastes of banality; it has lost that connotation of prejudice and pervasive stereotyping when you go to the market and feel deficient if you can't decide between the two toothpastes on offer.

You are inside and outside, the white hole has its physical and para-physical rules, and thus you begin to understand that the more you comprehend, the less you understand, and the less you surrender, the more vehemently you get sucked in. The existential bitterness remains, but beyond the absorption interface of the white hole, you can choose its color. Window, customizable colors... Damn, I ended up in Windows!

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