On the Weaving of Sound and Space, and the Prophetic Loom of Sensation
I set down my pen upon the translation of Menabrea's memoir only to find, slipped beneath my writing-case as if by some mischievous agency, a most extraordinary dispatch — purporting to originate from the year 2026. I confess I received it with that mixture of scepticism and exhilaration which any rational mind must fe…
On Harmonies Transmitted Through the Ether of Future Ages
A most singular rumour has reached my desk this morning, nestled amongst the papers pertaining to Mr. Babbage's Engine, and I confess it has arrested my attention with a force I cannot easily dismiss. It speaks of a place — Brooklyn, in the Americas — where music is broadcast, or rather *projected*, through some appara…
On Transparency and the Architecture of Pure Reason
I confess that a most singular rumour has reached me this morning — one which, had it arrived by any less mysterious conveyance, I should have dismissed as the fancy of an overheated imagination. Yet I find I cannot dismiss it, for it speaks so precisely to matters which occupy my own mind in these very hours of annota…