Olaf Stapledon and Stanislaw Lem have described in admirable detail the possibility of an intelligent star: a sapient mass of incandescent gas. Lem provides certain details of how the creation of such a being might be effected. The basic gist is outlined in the story of a super AI, Golem XIV, who alters his own circuits to become ultra-minuaturized and ultra-energy-efficient to the point where the basic computational operation is a hydrogen-to-helium fusion reaction. Thus a star is born. Further improvement involves squeezing electrons into the atomic nuclei thus turning Golem’s brain into a small neutron star. Lastly, Golem bids adieu before taking the final step: astrocollaptic cognitive engineering. Further progress involves densities that eventuate in a singularity: a black hole. When Golem’s mind falls over the edge into the inescapable gravity well, not even he knows whether this is suicide or the next step in the evolution of intelligence.
The real truth is that for all the awesome power of gravitationally ignited fusion furnaces, they are utterly stupid. Not a single thought transpires between what they swallow and what they shit.
I love and find eerie the images from NASA’s Solar and Heliospheric Observatory. They render Sol into a brooding molten beast, not so much the source of our light as a super-heated blind idiot God of the darkness.
What follows is excerpted from Georges Bataille’s essay “The Solar Anus”
“The sea continuously jerks off. Solid elements, contained and brewed in water animated by erotic movement, shoot out in the form of flying fish. The erection and the sun scandalize, in the same way as the cadaver and the darkness of cellars. Vegetation is uniformly directed towards the sun; human beings, on the other hand, even though phalloid like trees, in opposition to other animals, necessarily avert their eyes. Human eyes tolerate neither sun, coitus, cadavers, nor obscurity, but with different reactions. When my face is flushed with blood, it becomes red and obscene. It betrays at the same time, through morbid reflexes, a bloody erection and a demanding thirst for indecency and criminal debauchery. . . . The terrestrial globe is covered with volcanoes, which serve as its anus. Although this globe eats nothing, it often violently ejects the contents of its entrails. Those contents shoot out with a racket and fall back. . .spreading death and terror everywhere. . . The earth sometimes jerks off in a frenzy, and everything collapses on its surface. . . This eruptive force accumulates in those who are necessarily situated below. . . .The erotic revolutionary and volcanic deflagrations antagonize the heavens. As in the case of violent love, they take place beyond the constraints of fecundity. In opposition to celestial fertility there are terrestrial disasters, the image of terrestrial love without condition, erection without escape and without rule, scandal, and terror. Love then screams in my own throat; I am . . .the filthy parody of the torrid and blinding sun. I want to have my throat slashed while violating the girl to whom I will have been able to say: you are the night. The Sun exclusively loves the Night and directs its luminous violence, its ignoble shaft, toward the earth, but finds itself incapable of reaching the gaze or the night, even though the nocturnal terrestrial expanses head continuously toward the indecency of the solar ray. The solar annulus is the intact anus of her body at eighteen years to which nothing sufficiently blinding can be compared except the sun, even though the anus is night.”
Warning: click on the following link only if you want to see the above solar anus logo tattooed on some dude’s butthole. http://www.kapelica.org/athey/main.htm