Let’s stop calling it the Republic. Plato’s name for it needn’t be our name for it. The thing we wish to make is hyperspace.
Hyperobject in Timothy Morton’s sense, hyperspace is where we go when we generate joy. And it’s there, already, in miniature. You built it there in your “particle accelerator”-shaped apartment. Your bedroom, like the interior of the Tardis, is a realm unto itself. Like the space conjured up when one draws around oneself a circle. Such circles are strange loops, woven of the same stuff as Fate.
“We are moving,” writes Morton, “from a regime of penetration to one of circlusion” (Spacecraft, p. 71). Circlusion is the means by which vessels enter hyperspace.
Bini Adamczak introduced the term circlusion to describe this warping process, this weaving of strange loops, in a 2016 article published in German. An English translation by Sophie Lewis appeared in Mask Magazine later that year. Lewis says circlusion can be considered a companion term for Ursula K. Le Guin’s “carrier bag theory of fiction.” Instead of imposing onto spacetime a grid, one weaves a weird warp, a strange loop.
Trance-Scripts 