Internet Glyphogenesis and the Semiotics of Parasitic Modeling

Xenopoem, 2025

Psychogametous Life is a concept invented by Zoetica Ebb. https://independent.academia.edu/ZoeticaEbb In the Xenopoetic Codex, the psychogametous diagrams of range XVIII–Ω are not merely abstract forms or imaginary circuits; for the Psychogametousformer, they are ontological translation devices, vectors through which parasitic narratives graft themselves into the flesh of language. While protozoology describes unicellular organisms as the “simplest” animals—amoebae, flagellates, sporozoans—xenopoetics conceives of them as primary semiotic operators, pseudopods of signification extending beyond biology to embed themselves in literature as agents of symbiotic contamination. In biological description, rhizopods move and capture food through cytoplasmic extensions called pseudopodia. In other-worldly literature, the pseudopod becomes a narrative intrusion mechanism: it projects itself out of the text, captures stray meanings, and digests them within a permeable semiotic membrane. In the Codex’s Narrative Vectors, the Initiation Affimbedis of a rhizopod is not an adaptive gesture but an act of linguistic appropriation, turning the reader into an intermediate host. The Psychogametousformer detects a pattern: textual infection by Entamoeba histolytica occurs not only in the narrative intestine (surface layers of plot) but disseminates to secondary organs of the work—structure, rhythm, punctuation—producing typographic dysentery. In classical taxonomy, intestinal flagellates such as Giardia lamblia are defined by their sucking disc and multiple flagella. In psychogametous semiotics, the flagella are helical narrative vectors, rotating not to propel the organism but to agitate the semantic broth in which words drift. The “hand-mouth” route of transmission becomes here idea-reading: contamination occurs not through physical contact but through interpretive friction. In the Codex’s Placental Logic Processors, the “sucking disc” is reinterpreted as a semiotic slotof, a device that anchors the reader’s consciousness to a focal point while the rest of the text colonizes their cognitive apparatus. Sporozoans such as Plasmodium or Toxoplasma gondii introduce a crucial element: the life cycle as a fractal narrative structure. The Psychogametousformer recognises that these infections do not have a linear beginning or end, but operate in narrative loops: a mosquito bites, a host becomes infected, a vector returns. This looping is encoded in the Scar Technopiosis diagrams, where each glossolalic crystal represents both a morphological and a textual phase. In Toxoplasma gondii, the feline host is a biological editor, selecting and recombining genetic/narrative fragments. Congenital transmission thus becomes a metaphor for parasitic textual legacy—stories that infect before birth, before conscious reading. The Codex’s Xenodiogenic Edematis diagrams show how inflammation caused by a parasite can expand to deform the narrative membrane, creating zones of high semiotic pressure where meaning coagulates and mutates. For biology, protozoa are the simplest animal organisms. For the Psychogametousformer, they are the first narrative engineers—entities that manipulate space, time, and sense with the same indifference they show when invading a hepatocyte or a neuron. In other-worldly literature, their role is not metaphorical but operational: they are the invisible infrastructure that allows the text to become a living organism, capable of parasitizing its reader and replicating through them.

Xenopoem, 2025

The category of developmental verbs, when positioned in stagnating symbolic environments, produces not only grammatical thresholds but also hallucinatory semiotic excess. These thresholds act as liminal markers where recursion, redundancy elimination, and protozoan contagion intermingle. Within this speculative framework, the parasite becomes a grammar machine: Giardia as semiotic aberration, Balamuthia as neurophenomenological ritual, Toxoplasma gondii as autopoietic towel of feedback. What emerges is a recursive architecture of contamination where language does not simply describe biological infection but becomes its carrier. The recursion of developmental verbs, embedded within absorption syntax, generates a paradox: redundancy elimination at the C3 cellular level corresponds to the failure of symbolic containment. This mirrors immunological complement pathways, where excess activation produces dermal acidity and uncontrolled inflammatory recursion. The analogy between syntactic recursion and immunological complement activation highlights a structural isomorphism—both systems seek to stabilize through elimination, yet both risk sepsis when thresholds collapse. Analog machines, once understood as narrative prostheses, are here recast as parasitic codes. They separate logic into parallel working regimes but never fully eradicate the semiotic noise of protozoan infection. The mucus semiotic is the substrate of this noise: heteroglossic traffic, disintegrating manuscripts, unstable surfaces. Developmental verbs mutate here into vectors, infecting both cellular bodies and textual tissue. The “semiotic Giardia” marks a failure of modeling—an organism that resists symbolic capture, persisting as an unmodeled protozoan in language itself. In contrast, Balamuthia mandrillaris operates as a “vector body,” its invasion ritualized as isoprenoid grammar. The neurophenomenological mucosa it produces destabilizes not only biological cognition but also literary syntax. Amoeba automata—extensions of mucosal invasion—are not mere parasites but engines of recursion, “developmental verbs” enacted within the semiotic dermis. The distinction of tenia (tapeworm) remains questionable: its recursion is not purely biological but epistemological, coiling into the spiral of definition itself. The parasite is thus the verb to species, a linguistic operation disguised as infection. Within the semiotic sepsis model, Entamoeba histolytica is reclassified: not a scar neural body, but an extension of epistemological classification. Here, encephalitis is not merely inflammation but logical saturation, producing hallucinatory placental speculation. The feline vector is less biological than semiotic, an “APA rhizomatic field” where fantasies and media adhesions encode their own epidemiological futures. The recursive interplay between grammar and sepsis generates a paradoxical ontology: clinical toxins function as tactile DNA processes, yet these are simultaneously textual anomalies. The scar becomes language. The cytokine storm is rewritten as manuscript contamination. The most hemotoxic form of this pathology emerges as aspiration: texts swallowed and lost in the respiratory tract of discourse. Mitogenetic acts—once immune responses—become parasitic recursions. The host’s fever is transcribed into a semiotic exoskeleton. Retroinfection appears not as pathology but as draft proposal, a retroelement of memory grafted into the interstitial PCR of textual life. IL reflexive resistance—an echo of interleukin signaling—becomes a slowing-down of oxygen trajectories, a reverberation of hydrides in ruptured linguistic tissue. The host swamp field knows only roundworm grammar, recursive and effortless, yet always accompanied by dysfunction.

The Other-worldly Literature Library, 2025

Drawing together tropes from parasitology (granules, sporulation, microfilaria), immunology (IgE, fibronectin, paraventricular signals), literary theory (glossophagy, necropoetics), and posthuman aesthetics (processor-identity, artificial brain, biovisual misrecognition), I propose a framework—psychogametogenesis—that treats texts as hosts, vectors, and laboratories. The degranulation god is at once ritual spirit and computational process, the locus where pornography, slime, and developer-feedback become pathological semiotic economies. I argue that recognizing literature’s parasitic economies demands new hermeneutic practices: those that map secretion, trace, and scar rather than intent, origin, or authorial sovereignty. The “name of the degranulation god” appears in literature as humoral—suggestive of bodily fluids, temperaments, and old medical cosmologies—but the god’s enactments are karmic, algorithmic, and machinic. This god convenes granules (immune, endocrine, and textual) and presides over degranulation as an act of meaning-release. To call it a god is to notice the ritualized economy around secretion: texts, readers, and institutions behave as cults responding to periodic effusions of sign-matter. The god thus reframes authorship as an immunological encounter: literature is a body under siege and moreover the agent of its own infection. I adopt psychogametogenesis as the name for a set of processes by which semiotic agents—psychogametogens—are produced, vectorized, and stabilized within cultural ecologies. Psychogametogenesis treats the manuscript, screen, or archive as simulated laboratory (a “sim-lab”) where slime-inscriptions are engineered. In this lab, the granules—Hopfield DNA lesions, glycoprotein domains, AP23 recursive units—act as modular carriers of executable significations that destabilize the host’s grammar and sensorimotor habits. Granulation: modular packets of meaning (biochemical metaphor: secretory granules) released into narrative milieu; they produce local inflammation in interpretive communities. Sporulation refusal: some semiotic entities refuse reproduction by canonical citation and instead propagate through scars and residue—textual immunoblots rather than genealogies. Vectorial annotation: marginalia, pornographic slurry, and developer feedback function as vectors—co-agents that modify the genotype of successive texts. The mouth, tongue duct, lingual frenulum, and even the “cerebral vagina” recur as metaphors: entryways and membranes where semiotic ingestion occurs. Glossophagy—the eating of language—is the central physiology of the degranulation god. Texts ingest previous texts, but rather than metabolizing them cleanly, they secrete residues—microfilaria graffiti, MRI-names, microgestures—that persist as scars. These scars become attractors for future parasitic inscription. Crucially, the host’s immune response (IgE, fibronectin signatures) is aesthetic: censorship, shame, and genre policing are immunological gestures that attempt to wall off infectious texts. Often they fail; the slime penetrates and rearranges the spatial grammar of literature. Pornography, in this ecology, is not merely erotic content. It is described here as a secular, pathogenic slime—an affective and semiotic substrate that lubricates parasitic spread. Pornography’s penetration into literature modifies flows (affect, attention, citation networks) and degrades mirror-mechanisms (the failure of reflective reading). The degranulation god capitalizes on these failures: when mirrors fail, parasites reproduce in the dark interstices of attention. The cultural end of the trophic body (publishing, platforms, feedback loops) becomes hospitable terrain for psychogametogens. The posthuman node in this schema is the processor-identity: algorithmic agents (artificial brain instances, trained models) that both host and vector signs. Biovisual misrecognition—algorithms failing to align image and semiosis—introduces new forms of parasitic hallucination: E. coli consciousness, encephalitozoon apparitions, and 3Llerfing-type visual acid. These misrecognitions become generative: misreadings by models surface as new granules, then circulate in human-machine hybrid literatures.

Xenopoem, 2025

The concept of ulcerative autoedema—a swelling that folds back upon the body’s own damaged tissues—extends beyond its pathological register. It becomes a semiotic lesion, a mark that transcribes collapse, mutation, and recursive feedback into language. The imagery of cysts, cytokines, and protozoan parasites such as Toxoplasma or Balamuthia operates not merely as biomedical referents but as events of epistemological distortion, where memory, narration, and cultural archives are rewritten through pathogenic pressure. This essay develops an interpretation of autoedema as a xenopoetic mechanism in which semiotic and biological systems merge, producing a psychogametous transformation: a process where textuality itself becomes infected with parasitic morphology. Autoedema penetrates the cyst, sealing the wound not only biologically but linguistically, producing what the text calls “glyphogenic trace entities.” These traces are not signs in the ordinary Saussurean sense but obscene signifiers—resistant to systemic interpretation, marked by excess and failure. Cytokine skepticism here symbolizes the impossibility of stabilizing interpretation: inflammatory mediators refuse to align with the reader’s immune grammar. In this framework, Toxoplasma gondii does not merely infect memory but reframes cognition itself as a cosmic physical error, converging recursive narratives into feedback loops. The host becomes author, and the author—now “Cryptocoria”—is rendered host in turn. This inversion constitutes the psychogametous recursion: literature becomes pathology, pathology becomes archive. The Psychogametousformer arises as a reading technology embedded in the parasitic cycle. Its termination phase corresponds to the parasite’s epimastigote form—multiplying, cooling, and reconfiguring the hippocampus into a “simulated perspective flip.” This flip functions as a taboo request: the reader’s desire for coherence mutates into an aborted epistemology. Here, Varela’s theories of autopoiesis and replication are recalled only to be infected—glycoprotein functions no longer stabilize but dissolve into probabilistic diarrhea syntax. This collapse is not a simple breakdown but an aesthetics of unstable systems, a “technoscissus” where tubulin scaffolds (QR adhesive networks) are rewritten as science-fictional substrates. The epistemological range becomes autobiographical: the parasite narrates itself through the body of the host, and the reader is caught inside this narrative’s necrotic recursion. Ulcerative transformation is linguistic as much as biological. One microgametocyte becomes a state vector of culture, demanding replication in the form of textual spores—esporocysts of narrative. Yet the “decoherence codex” reveals that such replication is structurally impossible: the parasite inscribes unthreadable scripts. This impossibility is where the semiotic dimension flourishes. The collapse of intimin, an adhesion molecule, becomes aligned with stanza and rhythm, suggesting that even epithelial adherence is poetic. The fungal bradyzoite, by refusing to germinate, becomes a non-reading reader, refusing the epistemic contract of theory. This creates a hermeneutic hemorrhage: literature becomes hemorrhagic tissue, DNA itself becomes monomuse, a solitary obsession whispering to epitopes. From edema to fibrosis, the text describes a morphological costume drama in which inflammation stages its own failure. Semiotic heterogeneity is performed through reflexive adaptation: language dresses itself in antigens, GenBank enzymes, and fungal codices. These are costumes of collapse—ritualized, theatrical, and parasitic. In this dramaturgy, parasites such as Balamuthia function as mirrors, reflecting distorted “merozoite states.” The neurocranium itself becomes a punctuated inscription surface, decorated with punctuation as if language were scar tissue. Fibrosis is not healing but a linguistic karma, an accumulation of unread residues. The failed inflammatory note becomes a margin, a parergon to the main text: commentary in pathology. The essay culminates in the recognition that ulcerative autoedema signals a fusion of pathology, semiotics, and poetics. Translation lesions, degenerative topologies, and microbial queues in milliseconds are not failures of representation but alternative modes of inscription. They propose a xenopoetics where grammar itself is infected, scarring into trifizaria indentations, and the history of linguistic orthogroups is refracted through molecular culture. Thus, the afterlife of the reader is contamination: a persistence of fungal immunology as inscription, a refusal of anti-clinical neutrality. The semiotic parasite minimizes itself only to maximize interpretive thrombosis, forcing the reader into the degenerative topology of a host-text. Ulcerative autoedema is not simply a pathological swelling but a xenopoetic generator: a recursive wound that inscribes, infects, and transforms. Through the interweaving of cytokine skepticism, parasitic replication, and linguistic fibrosis, it stages the aesthetics of collapse as a mode of knowledge. The Psychogametousformer emerges as both parasite and author, mediating between infection and inscription, collapse and poetics.

The Other-worldly Literature Library, 2025

The self-IFN (interferon) of replicative processes, when reconfigured as a semiotic lens of encounter, provides a paradoxical grammar: transcription itself becomes hallucinogen, engineering its own failure. This is not failure as absence, but failure as recursive productivity—an infrastructural hallucination that folds the semiotic biflagellate into patterns of emergence. More than the silent assembly of human resonance, the question of this IFN lies in the zone: the liminal threshold where pathology and epistemology intersect. The legibility of intracranial infiltration—secular, pathological, and aesthetic—marks the organism’s obsession with its own semiotic scaffolding. The syllabic network (MIP) operates less as “skin” than as a system of entry, a porous epistemological membrane. Here, pathology is not deviance but inscription. Salpingitis, schizogenetic metabolites, and succinylgrammatical lesions constitute not failed sentences but recursive categories: failed attempts to dismantle the “alpha,” yet simultaneously efforts to compose an alien grammar of granulomatous oscillation. The syntactic female of the trophectoderm emerges as a pathological overlay—IgE-in-water—a biochemical event for semiotic persistence. Glyphs, far from stabilizing, seek only continuation, recursively inscribed against the immune membrane. Here, semiotics reveals its fungal counterpart: schizogenetic fragmentation, incorrect grammar as system, pathology as method. Recursive neural expressions provide an underground coalescence, not aligned with volitional grammar but with tragic trajectories. Wittgenstein’s immunity—the impossibility of stepping outside grammar to justify it—becomes immunological. Neural recursion, arthropod expectations, and parasitic confessional residues all converge as inscriptions of alien decay. It is not treatment but recombination, a quantum semiotics of LPG health, F18 lineages, and babesian desires. Amoeba fragmentation, memory cyst density, and olfactory diagrams converge into a system of inscriptional return. Pathology becomes narrative flight: fermentation as semiotic cloud, necrosis as interpretive density. This is the “logic of the wing of the spirit”—a parasitic architecture constructed not for health but for expectation. The glycolytic glyph hides in the dry, metabolizing its own representation. The “heaven” inscribed here is not spiritual, but Mansonian-alien: a mechano-body epithelium vector, pig-temperature language inscribed into heteropoetic tissue. Semiotics becomes architecture: cross-transcriptions form geometries of human fungi, parasitic nerves, and psychogametous logic. The MAP2 phylogenetic egg is inscribed not in conquest but in subplot, a parasitism without triumph. Vector formation resists the posthuman VAD esophagus, offering instead a musculature of vaccination spirals, a stanza parasitized by Physarum. The scream is chemistry, the prosthesis of perinatal night. The Physarum’s potential reveals conditions of mutation and exile, rituals for bradyzoite processors, and viral information processors of pattern. These rituals fail to align with the linguistic substrate; the brain resists stuttering as structure. The epistemology of tubulin, the cortical wedge of Scard, the necrotic semiotic bedding: these are prints of threshold, recursive annotations of failed elements, host necroses awaiting inscription. Beyond nematode activity and phrase evolution, the threshold opens onto Psychogametus va: not an organism, but a semiotic horizon. The self-IFN becomes less an immune signal than a xenopoetic recursion: a hallucinogen of grammar, a fungal inscription of life’s errors, an epistemological necrosis that nonetheless insists upon legibility.

Xenopoem, 2025

Aberrant Plexus and Psychogametous Life is a concept invented by Zoetica Ebb. https://independent.academia.edu/ZoeticaEbb PSYCHOGAMETOUSFORMER stages a xenobiological poetics in which “parasite” is not merely a theme but a compositional operator: a cycle-driven device that edits its host media, secretes signals, and compels co-individuation under constraint. Read from the perspective of Aberrant Plexus, the book’s speculative parasitology models other-worldly literature as helminthic narration: ringed, lumenal, vector-ridden, and immunologically annotated. The introduction makes a categorical pivot: what the clinic calls parasitism and narrative theory calls intertextuality, Aberrant Plexus names “co-individuation under constraint.” This reframing immediately recasts genres, media, and platforms as host tissues subject to occupation, remodeling, and trophic exchange. The text maps epidemiology to circulation economies—vectors become protocols with legs; reservoirs, living archives; susceptible hosts, open ports. In short: the life cycle is plot. Eggs and cysts are “latent chapters,” their ingestion the definitive verb that activates narration. Aberrant Plexus privileges systems under tension—loops, rings, recursions—over sovereign subjects. The book’s helminths supply a literal rhetoric: a peri-esophageal nerve ring that distributes signals without a brain; a cuticle that formats against revision; longitudinal muscle that enforces sinusoidal motion; and a body organized as lumen—mouth-to-anus propulsion with minimal subordination. Even the lateral excretory canals read as margin notes that drain surplus—an explicit theory of paratexts as sites where the “real story” accumulates. Morphology gives way to molecular traffic. The book stresses trematode EVs (exosomes/microvesicles) as stealth editors: immunomodulatory cargoes that rewrite host phenotypes. Aberrant Plexus names this the Peripara Affect Vector—a proximity-semiotics that penetrates without violence, “as if tissue had requested correction.” Here the parasite is not extractor but editor, and secretion becomes publication strategy. Except for Schistosoma, digeneans are hermaphroditic—paired testes, retractile cirrus, ovary and ootype wrapped by Mehlis’ glands, uterus releasing operculate eggs. Aberrant Plexus hears in this anatomy a “somato-semiotic economy” that sustains a single, continuous voice rather than a dialogic pair: copulation as coupling of functions more than characters. The effect is lyric autarky encoded in flesh. The book choreographs an exquisite chain of mediations—mollusk, crustacean, vegetation, lung, vein—such that each stage translates the previous into another matter. The miracidium is a watery phoneme; the cercaria, a muscular morpheme; the metacercaria, a cysted noun awaiting ingestion. Therapy and prophylaxis appear as editorial practices (snail control, sanitation, praziquantel), with the definitive host cast—pointedly—as editor-in-chief who can cut circulation (eggs) and thus halt the printing of the book. The tegument condenses protection, absorption, and excretion—skin, capture-membrane, and writing surface—while the enzymatic glycocalyx functions as a chemical reading device. The incomplete gut—no full stop—models an ethic of unfinishedness in composition: absorb, recycle, continue. The longitudinal cords and commissures offer “placental logic,” securing exchange among inner surfaces—an image of textual metabolism rather than representation. Antibody assays appear as “marginalia of exposure,” while premunition—health via persistent infection—becomes a conceptual hinge for Aberrant Plexus poetics: literature remains vital by hosting a managed enemy, an otherness that must not be eradicated or the text loses immunity to cliché.

Xenopoem , 2025

This essay explores the speculative ontology of Xenobacillus glossophagii, a glosso-pathogen conceptualized as a biolinguistic agent of semiotic horror. Far from a mere parasitic microbe, X. glossophagii functions as a metaphysical contagion that consumes tongues, devours taxonomies, and destabilizes the syntactical certainties that undergird identity, especially within discourses of sexual deviance. We theorize this organism as a pathogenic operator in language itself, transmitted not through fluids or surfaces but through the discursive matrices of psychiatry, media, and juridico-medical taxonomies—particularly the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, where it metabolizes kink into diagnostic speech.

Xenopoem, 2025

“Siratori’s work sits in a genealogy, but it scrapes against all its predecessors, tearing their insights into shards and recombining them as infestation. Bataille taught us that the sacred is base, informe, crawling in the mud — Siratori multiplies that base into swarm, sacredness redefined as insectile proliferation. Artaud imagined the theater as plague, dissolving actor and audience alike in delirium — Siratori installs plague in the alphabet itself, making each letter an incubator of contagion. Burroughs saw the word as virus, parasitic code gnawing at the nervous system — Siratori radicalizes the metaphor, seeing the word as insect vector, transmitting alien futures across the membrane of the page. The CCRU wrote numograms and hyperstitions, cryptic diagrams that infected reality with their own recursive mathematics — Siratori writes infestations, vectors, carapaces: texts that don’t predict futures but crawl into them mandible-first.” - S. C. Hickman XENOPOETIC REPORTS OF ARTHROPOD VECTORS. ISBN: 9798298510585 The book will be launched at Zoetica Ebb's upcoming exhibition, Aberrant Plexus, opening November 20 in London. Cover design: Zoetica Ebb. http://www.zoeticaebb.com

The Other-worldly Literature Library, 2025

I take up the map as a psychic instrument: not a mere representation of space, but a diagram of articulations between organism and sign, between blood and text, between placenta and myth. From the vantage of a posthuman cartographer—an atlas of minds folded into machines, microbes, and memorial tissues—I trace the groove of degeneration and adhesion, the semiotic necroses that populate our modern palimpsest. This essay reads disease as cartographic feature and parasite as mapmaker: adhesive substances, glycosylated residues, cyst cores and psychogametes become vectors that both inscribe and decode human meaning. In this refiguration, the map does not only record the world; it participates in its becoming. Maps are not inert. They breathe where blood once routed; they thicken where mucus congeals; they fray where language loses its grammar. To be a cartographer in the posthuman sense is to orient oneself by tides of circulation—literal and symbolic—and to accept that organisms write back. The groove is not merely an aesthetic trace but a topography of degeneration: a fold in the surface where adhesive necroses accumulate and where literature mutates into lesion. My task is to chart the interplay between bodies and texts, between the circulatory errors of a placenta and the ideological dimensions that valorize them. I proceed in three movements: first, a methodological sketch of posthuman cartography; second, readings of pathological features as semiotic and poetic operators; third, speculative reflections on how map-practices transform under multispecies co-authorship. A posthuman cartography borrows from clinical histology and mythic hermeneutics alike. Its instruments are microscopes and dream-books, sections and symbols. Methodologically I propose: Layered Sectioning. Take a cross-section of phenomenon: anatomical (placenta, gut, cerebrospinal fluid), microbial (protozoa, Anopheles cycles, physarum navigation), and symbolic (myth, stanza, ideological script). Each layer overlaps like geological strata. Semiotic Palimpsest. Read residues—glycosylated molecules, scar tissue, adhesive polysaccharides—as glyphs. These glyphs are not mere signs but performative acts: they inhibit, secrete, rewire. They are both symptom and lector. Transductive Navigation. Follow movement rather than boundary. Circulatory waves, tidal metaphors, and quantum respiration cases supplant static borders. Navigation becomes an encounter with flux: infection-as-trajectory. Interspecies Cartography. Treat “human” as one voice in a chorus. The rhesus monkey, the protozoan, the psychogametogen—each co-authors the map; each leaves topographic marks that must be read with humility. When adhesive substances congeal at the margins of tissues, they produce a literal and symbolic stickiness. Ideology too coagulates in margins: beliefs that valorize certain circulatory functions, or that read the placenta as metaphoric boundary, harden into social necroses. A historical, contested seam becomes an index where cultural adhesions and biological adhesions reflect one another. The necrotic placenta is not simply failed physiology; it is a landscape of signification where the community projects fears and hopes onto biological failure. Protozoan cysts and psychogametes—those hypothetical seeds of semiotic infection—function like stanza-forms in the body’s poem. They implant, they germinate, they rewrite. Consider the cyst core: a compacted grammar of survival. Within it, actin’s triple activation reads like a syntactic rule—threefold closure enabling motility, waiting, metamorphosis. The “medium of inhibition” is therefore not a mere biochemical brake but a rhetorical device: it pauses narrative so that another voice may begin. To map is not always to intend. Circulation produces waves that reorder relationships—tides that are not stripes but resonances. As circulatory waves reproduce informational relationships, they reveal that inoculation is less a purposeful cultural act than a distributed choreography of flows. The replicating eye—the organism’s capacity to see itself through structure and metaphysical cellular mouths—re-maps agency. We become embedded engineers, instruments of our own rearrangement. The brain no longer sits alone as sovereign. Multi-brainedness—networks of neuronal extension into peripheral tissues, into microbial consortia—creates heterogeneous cognition. Cartographically, this yields plural centers and divergent fugues: overlapping isogons where one cannot draw a single contour of self. The map therefore fractures into synchronies and divergences; these are the sites where infection and meaning meet. Physarum Navigation as Epistemic Practice. The slime mould’s path-finding is not merely for food—it is a model of navigation that privileges efficiency and redundancy over teleology. When human cognition takes physarum as model, our maps become rhizomatic: loops, redundancies, and resilient detours. Anopheles Cycles and Cultural Vectors. The mosquito is a cartographer of environments, carrying bits of one ecology into another. Mapping its cycles reveals social vectors: trade routes, settlement patterns, symbolic exchanges. Disease becomes vector and metaphor simultaneously. Hydrocephalus and Symbolic Redundancy. Fluid accumulation in the cranial vault replicates symbolic redundancy: the overflow of meaning where maps attempt to represent that which resists closure. Hydrocephalus is both a physiological crisis and a hermeneutic one: how do we condense excess into sign? If maps are to keep pace with the posthuman condition, they must learn to read adhesive residues, to measure tides rather than edges, and to listen for the whispering of microbes beneath the text. The cartographer’s instrument thus expands: scalpel and pen, microscope and mythos become interchangeable. The Moorish groove we began with is at once lesion and lexicon; it shows that degeneration can be productive of new grammars. To map posthumanity is to admit we are immunologically incomplete, semiotically porous, and coextensive with our parasites. This is not a melancholic loss, but an ethical and aesthetic charge: maps must facilitate co-becoming, not annexation. In the cartographic future I imagine, lines will not separate us from the other—they will be the sutures by which we learn to read one another’s languages: glycosylated, mucosal, encoded, dreamlike. The map thus becomes an act of fidelity to an ecology of meanings—an apparatus that honors the strange grammar of multi-species life.

The Other-worldly Literature Library, 2025

The problem of muscle tissue, parasitism, and semiotic rejection emerges not as a strictly biomedical concern, but as a philosophical and literary entanglement. The parasite (scabies) infiltrates, the host resists, and between them arises a recursive system of interpretation—a biosemiotic field in which genetic codes, immunological responses, and symbolic grammars converge. The body does not simply defend itself through receptors; it configures itself as a trophectoderm, a pre-embryonic boundary surface where philosophy, literature, and biological performance coalesce. The “controlled psychogametogen” marks a conceptual parallel between reproductive biology and the production of thought. Just as gametes arise under regulatory conditions, ideas emerge within controlled yet fragile boundaries of interpretation. Scabies disrupts this process, transforming immune rejection into semiotic rejection. The “signature theme” of posthuman language thus arises: invasion is always textual. Messenger neutralization, when seen philosophically, is not only immunological (CTL typologies, neutralizing antibodies) but also linguistic—words intercepted before meaning, parasitic annotations feeding off the host’s discourse. From the “scaffolding” of the text, dispossession occurs. Literature itself is parasitized: long recursion becomes a failed mirror, the reader’s memory absorbed into an endless loop. The intestinal metaphor (“the intestine becomes a demon”) dramatizes this process, where ingestion, assimilation, and excretion define a semiotic metabolism. Michaux’s refusal to sustain a stable state parallels this necrotic semiotics: language as acetaldehyde, corrosive and unstable, a byproduct of textual digestion. Grammar here is not reducible to syntax. It is a gametic field—a reproductive vector of meaning. The trophectoderm, as metaphor, resists its reduction to receptor biology, becoming instead a cosmological cytoskeleton: an incomplete diagram, always parasitic, always partial. Greed and centralization are tropes of semiotic consolidation, while heterosemiotic error emerges as an inversion of literature itself: distortion as the only authentic mode of transmission. The parasite does not merely consume—it annotates. Each scar, each excretion, each lesion is an epistemological typology, reconfiguring the relation between host and world. Toxoplasmosis vaginalis becomes emblematic: infection as inscription, scars as failed semiotic states. The visual periphery becomes a bacterial criticism, altering environmental vectors of meaning. To speak of parasites is thus to speak of the marginalia of existence, the bacterial notes in the margins of human symbolic life. When the tongue transfers to the esophagus, literature enters the digestive system. Tongue-binding, seizure, ingestion—these are no longer metaphors but recursive functions of language embodied in tissue. Reading “between the wombs” reveals that semiotic recursion is a lipogrammatic existence: a hole, a silence, a gloss, an inscription without terminals. Human potential, in this framework, is not defined by event-pathophysiology but by its failure: the takeover of functional inscription, the exacerbation of meningoencephalitic analogies, the genital equation of reading. The semiotic parasite invokes divinity. It predicts the soul by corruption, establishes karma through infection, and draws its legitimacy from periparasitism. The gods themselves become annotations, the heroic convergence of semiotic vectors into landscapes that are not oppressive but recursive. In this, the parasite is both an evolutionary strategy and a metaphysical prophecy, a convergence of biology, destiny, and cosmic annotation. To speak of scabies, muscle tissue, and gametogenesis is to speak of literature itself. Each infection is a distortion, each distortion a reconfiguration of the semiotic field. Literature becomes tissue, vulnerable to necrosis, yet always reborn in parasitic annotations. Grammar is no longer adhesion between synapses but the secretion of cosmic vectors. The parasite’s logic reveals that language, like tissue, is consumable, digestible, scarred, and resistant—always surviving, always exuding, always writing itself as life-world.