If ornithology is the study of birds, is Murmurology the study of a bird's Murmuration and Hivesong?

Murmurology: the study of whispers.

What is a Hivesong?

Can you hear the Hivesong SubTweeting the Godhead?

Stories told in tweets. Stories told with tweets. Meta-narratives bound together by weaving other people's tweets.

A Collective's Hivesong.

What is a Hivesong? It's when YouTube suggests a piece of art referencing K-PAX because of an uptick in people looking up it's actor.

A serendipity generator – listing and listening to the Hivesong of your network.

Beehiveiorism of Hivesong Empathy as service, driven by emotion. “Infomorphic Beings And The Post-Human Internet”

Digital cognition. Extended mind. Embodied thought. Emotional Stigmergy. Symbolism. Tulpamancy. Hivesong. Keywords.

Channeling the Hivesong. An emotional Hivesong.

Corruption of Hivesong

Our collective's Hivesong consists of tweets and trumpets. In fact it always did: many of us simply didn't hear them 'till now.

Language as evolved from signaling games; out of synchronization primitives for the Hivesong hunting practices?

Singing the 'right' Hivesong is about signaling social status + group affiliation, because of assholes like Drongos.

Trolls want you to think they are singing the same Hivesong as us.

Who watches watchmen? Who influences influencers? Who inspires whom inspire? Who sings the Hivesong?

Weaved into skin to patch a wound. Now it is tearing away. Ripping the flesh. My soul is leaking out & I can't eat my shadow fast enough.

Flight of the Hivesong

Who you see and don't see is being managed by the algorithms. Algorithms designed to police thought. Controlling your view on the world. Biased toward what THEY deem valuable for you to see.

Occasionally, a memepool's information spreading is also subject to network connectivity deterioration. Like how animals can be separated due to land changes or fluctuating migratory patterns.

Over long enough time-frame looks like culture formation.

This leads to accidentally attracting minds within the same thought space. Your mutual's mutual's.

Meta-game is to tweet people way outside your network. Over time the network nits itself in their direction, summoning them.

Are we transforming near pure information systems... And I'm trying to summon the dead.

Disembodied Hivesong.

Their accounts still live; Traces of them linger and can still inspire the future. They are missing, but not gone.

Legacy: Traces left in the environment. Precursors, inspiring their derivatives. A software fork entrusted to maintainers of the future.

I still see traces of them when I search. They are part of me. Embedded in my external mind. Part of my history.

Death has a different meaning in our connected age. Bodies pass, but ideas live on; uploaded onto our digital clay.

Stories flashing in strobe, A collective of fireflies, Singing? No Signaling, Screaming into the abyssal noise floor:

I am here. I’m alive.

Mourning the Hivesong

All my friends are dying. Not IRL death, but accounts are blinking out of existence. I don't know how to cope.

Deleting your tweets is worse than death for me. You're ripping a part of you away from me. I can't mourn, even though you are gone.

I search. You are not there. I can't remember why. My memory is bad. I go to your page and remember.

You're gone?

The void has consumed them and I can't remember what they wrote. What they said that inspired me. Instead it's a feeling like pain; of loss.

I'll still be listening the hivesong. But am gearing up to transition. To explore outside of these walled garden's we've built ourselves into.

I care for you. I don't want us to be paperclips or whatever that meme actual signifies in our collective Hivesong.

Flocking to the Hivesong

Any sufficiently advanced network acting on information, when honed by evolutionary forces, is indistinguishable from intelligence.

The medium we sing our Hivesong with is changing out from under us.

Your social network is being held captive. Controlled. Regulated.

A great portion of my social network is actually in a slack chat – trying to pull together the network we've built.

Huddled around campfires retelling stories on scary worlds. Huddled around boxes re-sharing stories on scary worlds.

All your friend are dying. Your brain is rotting. It will be OK. You can fix this. Just Breath.

Dancing to the Hivesong

Do you know why the sun screams?

Ever really miss somebody so much that you want to bring on the singularity just to be able to recreate their essence?

If you care about us, build system that last. Design for sustainability. Make users at the center of the ecosystem.

It'll be alright. I promise. Just concentrate, and trust the Hivesong.

Boop

Tags: #poetry #introduction #murmur