□ dream □ delusion □ poem □ shallow grave
Which is to say, sarcophagous... time capsule... fossil-in-the-works. Some kind of mystery. Seek, find.
Background -- this actually happened -- don't ask why:
I was carving up Michael Joyce's "novel of internet," feeding phrases to Googlemena, savage goddess, to see what she might throw back. Results fell mainly in three piles: interesting resonance (e.g.,"the lost what was" evoking notes on circumcision); incestuous loops (quotations from the novel in reviews, etc.); and most marvelously... THESE REALLY WEIRD HEAPS OF WORDS... such as:
The trick to disovering one of these masses, generally speaking, is to offer at least three words with zero apparent context. For instance, DREAMS BEASTS SEX (okay, not that one) or GNOMON WASTREL CARAVAN (try it!).
In other words, the Web is haunted, teeming with unquiet remains of strange, perhaps inexplicable writing-acts. (Well, duh.) But I tell you, this can get weird...
"Stromatolite" is where my imagination ran from these ghosts. It is, as I say, a (recorded) dream, an articulated delusion. Also a prosy sort of 21-line poem, given to the ground and yet exposed to disinterment.
This is not a game. Touch the text at any point. If you settle on mere ground, it will fall away. Or you may unearth part of the buried body. A register at the top of the screen reflects your progress, but you are under no obligation.