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Wang Cong’er, The Ghost General; Chapter 1 : The Pulse of the Low-City. Release #11 6/16/26

InSerenity Literary — Wed, 17 Jun 2026 02:41:37 GMT

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-[👣 TAKLAMAKAN DESERT- CLIFFSIDE ROCKFACE 🔥]-

The shadow of the jagged out cropping offered barely any relief from the suffocating heat, but it was enough to shade them from the ultraviolet sun and hide them from the open dunes.

And for some time, the only sound was the frantic scraping of scavenged tools against the dry crust.

Yáo dug with a sun bleached sheep femur. His brain,spiraling out of control. “If the Yamen are kicking doors in our alley,” Yáo muttered, his breathing ragged as he hacked at the dirt beneath him. Pausing, wiping a mixture of sweat and dirt from his eyes with his forearm. “If they were to flip Ma’s pallet.”

Dòu was methodically plunging his custom spade into the sand, scooping out perfect, heavy clumps. “Mud sticks. Clay is Hard. This sand is easy, it just falls away.”

Yáo rolled his eyes. He was talking to himself. With a new breath and a huff, he returned to digging.

Cóng’ér didn’t say a word. She wasn’t using a bone or bamboo. She was squatted, digging entirely by hand, her small fingers hooking like badger claws, throwing sand backwards between her legs in a hyper-focused silent rhythm. Dirt was heavily caked deep beneath her fingernails causing a minor annoyance, but her pace, consistent and relentless.

“Sand is so much better,” Dòu murmured as he emptied shovel after shovel of the packed sand.

As Cóng’ér leaned forward, the small gold and Jade dragon pendant slipped out from under her tunic.

Yáo’s eyes darted to the jewelry.

His stomach knotted. He was looking at a glowing beacon for the local executioner. Biting his tongue about the dragon. “That’s deep enough,” he breathed, dropping his bone tool and sinking onto his knees.

The hole was roughly two-feet deep. Perfect for a temporary cache. Yáo dragged the heavy satchel over to the edge. No way he was burying the satchel itself. Good leather satchel was far too valuable on the street and besides, leather rotted quickly in the ground anyways, metal however.

Cóng’ér stood quietly now next to Dòu at the edge of the freshly dug two foot hole. Her small hand instinctively brushing the front of her tunic.

Yáo dropped to his knees at the edge of the pit. He pulled the satchel into his lap. It had been a good thing they lightened what they had to bury by dumping all the dirty and loose copper, chunks of raw silver and many tael ingots with Old Ma. Except that had now placed her at a very grave risk. And what now still remained in this satchel was the pure, undeniable evidence of their involvement in an accidental, syndicate style heist.

Yáo grabbed the bottom corners of the satchel and upended it over the hole in the sand. The unbroken strings of clean copper coins spilled out, followed by a clattering assortment of silver ingots, finally the huge sycee they had taken off the Yamen runner’s personal purse; it tumbled from the satchel, hitting the bottom of the hole with a heavy muffled thud.

Yáo was not finished. He reached deep within his own pockets, pulling out his own silver ingots he’d had stashed. He tossed them down into the open hole in the sand onto the pile.

Dòu did not need to be told. The boy simply reached into his own tunic, retrieved his own ingots and dropped them with Yáo’s.

Yáo And Dòu both turned and looked at Cóng’ér.

Cóng’ér glared back at them with her widened, unblinking amber eyes.

She held the standoff for seven long seconds until the sheer, unwavering weight of Dòu’s silent stare finally broke her defiance. She shoved her small hands into her tunic and produced her own ingots. It was only a fast last glance before she added them to the pile of treasure in the sand.

Yáo took a step toward Cóng’ér.

“Cóng’ér, the pendants... And I know you still have the ring too.”

Cóng’ér took two steps back and leaned into her right side.

Yáo took another step.

He held his hand out, palm open trying to keep his voice calm. “Please Cóng’ér. The jewelry, we have to,” He said, taking another half step. “We are coming back later to dig it up. Don’t worry, no one wants to take it from you.”

Cóng’ér, was not one to argue.

There were no words, she just continued mirroring Yáo’s advances, now step-siding against his left side putting the open sand pit between them. Almost all her body weight planted on her back leg, her front foot rested feather light on the ball of its arch bearing absolutely no weight. Her arms naturally came to a lax crossing; her palms resting on the sides of her ribs. Simple muscle memory from her back alley acrobatics play.

Cóng’ér looked loose, silent, her eyes stuck in a solid gaze beyond Yáo. She was hard coiled and ready to snap. Like before one of her flips.

She was set on it. She was not giving up her pendants.

“I told you she wasn’t going to put it in the dirt,” Dòu said. He didn’t even look up from the pile of silver in the sand. “Cóng’ér please listen to Yáo. If anyone sees that gold.”

Yáo took another step. He held his hand out, palm open trying to keep his voice calm. “Please Cóng’ér. The jewelry, we have to,” He said, taking another half step. “We are coming back later to dig it up. Don’t worry, no one wants to take it from you.”

Cóng’ér, as if she were looking a thousand miles beyond. Finally her eyes flickered and focused on Dòu, her peripheral’s still watching Yáo for any more advancing steps.

Dòu looked up.

Cóng’ér held his gaze for a split second, silently hoping he would say something else. Anything. But he didn’t.

Dòu shook his head and sat down in the sand at the edge of their two-foot, loot filled hole next to his massive stash of water bags..

“Cóng’ér, this isn’t a game” Yáo warned, his voice tightened with frustration. He took another, larger, deliberate step forward.

Cóng’ér moved.

As Yáo stepped forward, she matched his pace perfectly, but each time she stepped laterally, somehow out striding him with her much shorter legs.

Yáo frowned, pivoting himself now. Two big steps. Cóng’ér kept her eyes deadlocked through Yáo.

Yáo took another step.

His frustration at its peak. The Dragon pendant was in the open around her neck. He’d figured earlier he’d just snatch it off her if it came to it. Now Cóng’ér was looking at him like she was prepared to fight to the death. And the pendant was too far away for an easy, quick snatch. She undoubtedly had the other pendant too, the tiger taken off the Yamen Runner.

Cóng’ér kept her eyes on Yáo, her hands hidden somewhere inside her tunic or the sleeve of it, or elsewhere. The girl was definitely crafty. The jade archer ring, the tiger pendant. Yáo thought about it. Gold, silver, Jade, Copper... It all seemed to somehow gravitate toward Cóng’ér or her cursed pendant or the combination—

Yáo lunged.

He threw his body weight forward, grasping for the thick hemp collar of her tunic.

Cóng’ér did not retreat as Yáo had thought she would.

She ducked.

Instead of continuing her lateral drift to her right, she completely broke her rhythm, dropping her center toward the sand below her, spinning her hips hard to her right. Her right leg swept out in a wide low arc and then very abruptly, her entire weight snagged to the arch ball of her right foot. The centrifugal force of her swing hips, she’d coiled like an over-taut compressed spring and launched herself into the opposite direction, darting cleanly under Yáo’s extended arm.

It was like a slow motion lapse of a three-hundred degree spin without even making contact. Yáo, his momentum betrayed him, and right over Cóng’ér he went.

As Cóng’ér watched at some distorted one tenth-speed.

With his target, his pain in the ass little sister, suddenly vanished, somehow, again. Now, Yáo’s legs tangled. He was actually airborne for a good three seconds at least before crashing face first into the hot sands.

Dòu looked up.

Cóng’ér held his gaze for a split second, silently hoping he would say something else again,. Anything. But again, he didn’t.

Dòu shook his head at the edge of their two-foot, loot-filled hole.”Cóng’ér, this isn’t a game” Dòu shouted, his voice tout with concern on the unraveling scenario.

And Cóng’ér was also, not known to stop and gloat.

The bare pads of her tiny feet hit the sand in a blinding sprint, kicking up a small cloud of dust clearing twenty, then thirty yards, rocketing toward the giant tooth of rock face just as Yáo was sampling the Xinjiang provincial soil.

Yáo pushed himself up from the dirt, violently spitting out a mouthful of Taklamakan sand.

His discipline was completely gone.

The anxiety of the Yamen raid, the combined adrenaline of these past few days, the heavy heat and the sheer humiliation of having just been out-maneuvered by his four year-old little sister.

He boiled over into a pure, hot rage. Scrambling to his feet, his hemp tunic caked in pale dust, his eyes locked on Cóng’ér.

She was just over thirty-yards away, sitting cross-legged in the sand, obviously completely oblivious to this ongoing geopolitical situation going on around them, the Imperial Yamen kicking in hovel doors in their own alleyways.

By the edge of the treasure hole Dòu had not moved.

He reached into the open satchel, and turned it inside out. Giving it a good shake before tossing it back down beside him. He looked down beneath him at the pile of silver and copper and pulled out one of the perfectly clean strings of copper coins and loose copper cash taken off the Yamen Runner.

Yáo went buzzing past him like a desert road runner, kicking up dust in his wake.

Yáo didn’t even look at Dòu. His short legs were pumping furiously as he closed ground on Cóng’ér.

Snap.

Dòu broke the thick hemp cord with a methodical, undisturbed precision. He began separating the coins right off their string. The rhythm was almost hypnotizing,

Clack, Clack, Clack, of metal coins seemed to drown out the panting sounds of Yáo’s rage.

“The pendants Cóng’ér!” Yáo screamed, his voice cracking with exertion and fury. “And the Ring! I know you still have the ring too!”

At the base of the massive, jagged out cropping, Cóng’ér was already on her feet.

She stood with her toes practically touching the vertical stone, her head tilted back.

Hearing Yáo’s screaming approach she focused her full attention back on him. He was charging fast through the haze of the heat, his face red and his fists clenched.

Fifteen feet.

Ten-feet.

Cóng’ér didn’t wait for Yáo to close the remaining gap between them. She knew if Yáo got ahold of her it was over, he’d take the items she’d been hoarding. She was not so keen on giving any of them up. But definitely not her own pendant. It was her only connection to her Mother.

She hit the base of the outcropping in a few short steps, uncoiled from her stance and exploded upward.

She caught the base of the outcropping, her small hands and bare feet finding the natural, jagged holds of the lower boulders with the instinctual insect-like ease.

She scrambled up the first ten feet of the incline in seconds, leaving Yáo grabbing at the dust she kicked rocks and dust back down at him.

Clack, Clack, Clack.

Dòu methodically moved copper coins off the now, not so perfect copper string into small piles. “One for Yáo, one for me, one for Cóng’ér, one for Yáo-” he murmured, his thick fingers moving with rapid precision. “One for me, one for Cóng’ér.”

High above, Cóng’ér reached the end of the easy footholds.

She paused, her chest heaving slightly. Her amber eyes scanning the vertical face. Above her, two massive slabs of shale ran parallel to each other creating a narrow vertical chute she’d spotted when Yáo first confronted her. She didn’t hesitate, she threw herself up into the gap between the giant rocks.

Her right foot slammed against the right slab. Instead of trying to grip, she used the momentum to kinetically kick-off, ricocheting her small body across the air to the left slab.

Left foot planted.
Kick.

Right foot planted.

Kick!

She bounced upward between the two sheer rock faces in a blur of indigo hemp, ascending fifteen, then eighteen feet of pure vertical stone in a gravity-defying sequence that Yáo simply could not comprehend how she did. He had to get the little sister that did nothing but backflips in the backend alley of their hovel all-of the most of everyday she could.

Cóng’ér vaulted over the final lip, landing softly on a wide, twenty-foot square shelf of loose gravel. It was dotted with dry scrub brush and a single twisted desert tree that was fighting for its life in the stone.

“Cóng’ér!” Below her, Yáo shrieked. The sound of frustrated grunts and anger echoed up the canyon.

Dòu had placed the final copper coin onto the third pile.

“Three piles,” he announced to the empty desert and pile of water sacks, brushing sand from his knees.

Yáo had managed to scale the lower boulders Cóng’ér hadn’t even hesitated on, but when he hit the vertical chute, he completely stalled out.

He tried to mimic her kick jumps, he’d seen her do it. His momentum was too overly driven and misdirected. Yáo slid back down the rock face, his calloused hands scraping raw against the shale.

“Get down here!” Yáo roared.

He was standing on the lower boulders, his chest heaving hard and fast, dark tunic covered in powder fine dust and both his hands now slightly bleeding from the slide.

Yáo stared up at the gravel shelf, his face contorted with rage. “Cóng’ér!”

Cóng’ér popped back into sight. She stepped to the very edge of the shelf, careful of the loose footing she was on.

She planted her feet and looked down at Yáo close to twenty feet below her.

She shook her head. A slow, deliberate, No.

“I said get down here!” Yáo snapped, his voice cracking, completely consumed by the tantrum. “The Yamen? forget the Yamen! I’m going to cut your hands off myself!”

Cóng’ér didn’t say a word. She simply leaned further over the edge and stared directly into Yáo’s face. She crossed her eyes and puffed out her cheeks to mock the boy’s anger.

Something inside Yáo snapped even harder.

With a scream of utter frustration paced with rage, Yáo bent down, grabbed a massive handful of rocks and hurled them aggressively up at the ledge.

Driven entirely by blind rage. Yáo’s throw lacked any real power. The stones hit the underside of the limestone lip like a weak blast of birdshot, clattering harmlessly against the heavy rock and raining right back down onto his own shoulders.

Not a single stone ever cleared the lip of the ledge.

The crossed eyes and cute cheeks had evaporated. Cóng’ér did not retreat from her perch, nor did she ever break her deadlocked stare with her older brother, this was their first ever showdown.

Cóng’ér kept her eyes locked on Yáo, shifting her weight, she turned her bare right foot completely sideways, flattening it out almost into a paddle shape.

In one swift, sharp kick. It was not just a sprinkle of dust either.

The ledge itself was unstable underneath the gravel lined top. The structural integrity partially collapsed.

And the rock shower was merciless.

A heavy, blinding curtain of silt, sharp shale and fist-sized stones began cascading brutally down onto Yáo.

His face was still tilted upward; now mid-scream, Yáo choked on the thick cloud of dirt, throwing his scraped, bleeding hands over his head as the heavier stones pelted his shoulders and cracked against his shins. He slipped on the loose scree of the lower boulders, tumbling backwards and landing in a miserable, coughing heap at the bottom of the rock face.

Thirty some yards away, safely by the burial ground, Dòu looked up from recounting the copper coin piles. He watched Yáo writhing in the dust, coughing up sand, his knuckles bleeding now, his palms bleeding even worse.

“You’re lucky she didn’t throw fire on you like she did the palanquin guards!” Dòu yelled over the desert wind and falling rocks. He started again, sifting through the three copper coin piles, counting. His brow furrowed. How does she do that anyway? He mentally reviewed the events of the past few fairly irregular days. Yáo was here now, pretty much beating himself up. How’s Cóng’ér doing that? They beat themselves up. Oh well.

As Dòu processed this, he looked back up towards the ledge.

A new shadow suddenly eclipsed the blinding desert sun, and it did not belong to the rock out-cropping. It fell directly over Dòu and his neat piles of copper coins.

Dòu blinked. He turned his head slowly.

Standing less than three feet away, having made absolutely no sound on his approach over the loose desert sand, was an old man.

He was dressed in a heavy, sun bleached desert cloak that blended perfectly into the heat haze. A long, coarse grey-and-white beard rested against his chest. His weathered hands were wrapped around the smooth black lacquered wood of a heavy walking stick with the right side of his weight resting upon it.

Dòu sat perfectly still in the sand.

His hand hovered halfway between his lap and the three piles of coins he’d made. He stared up at the old man whom had just seemingly materialized out of the desert.

The stranger wasn’t panting. His heavy sun bleached cloak wasn’t even shifting in the wind. He was simply standing there. His hands resting on the smooth lacquered wood of the cane.

The old man did not look at Dòu. He stepped forward, bringing his sandaled feet directly to the edge of the freshly dug two-foot burial hole.

At the bottom sat a king’s ransom. The massive, boat shaped sycee gleamed dully in the shadows of the outcropping.

“That’s a considerable hoard for three street shrikes,” the old man noted.

His voice was a low, resonant hum. It was not loud at all but somehow possessed a frequency that completely cut through the howling wind and sounds of Yáo’s violent coughing rage.

At the base of the rocks, Yáo froze, still trying to clear his throat and shake himself off. The rock slide had stopped, the boy was wiping the dirt from his face with his bleeding hands.

Yáo scrambled backwards.

He recognized this man. He remembered spotting this very, same grey bearded man with his walking stick in the markets of the Kashgar alleys just within the past few days.

This could not be good.

Twenty-feet above them, on the gravel ledge, Cóng’ér snapped to attention. She’d been so hyper-focused on watching Yáo’s destructive behavior she had not registered this arrival. But she also instantly recognized the old man now standing over Dòu.

“A five-tael Imperial sycee,” the old man mused, leaning on his cane. “Looks like nearly a dozen ingots there too,” Master Zhāng said, then letting out a long, high pitch whistle. “You know those Imperial stamps mean that’s pure silver.”

Yáo’s breathing hitched. His hands frantically digging into his tunic and drawing his bone handled knife. His mind now desperately calculating.

“You know,” Master Zhāng murmured, he shifted his weight again lifting the cane and pointing down into their two-foot burial hole. “You’ve got enough capital in there to purchase a merchant galleon outright, or perhaps even secure a minor provincial governorship in the south.”

He retook his stance now lifting his head from the hole in the ground to Yáo, then tracing the vertical rock face all the way up to where Cóng’ér was still perched. Twenty-some feet up.

“However,” the old man continued, his voice perfectly level. “The accounting is slightly complicated.” His eyes shifted back to the child in the dirt sitting over the evidence of treason.

Master Zhāng reached a weathered hand deep into the folds of his sun-bleached cloak.

Yáo’s knuckles turned white around the hilt of his bone-handled knife. He braced himself to start running toward the man. He was expecting to see the stranger draw a steel blade or hidden garrote.

Instead, Master Zhāng pulled out a rectangular frame of polished mahogany.

It was an Abacus.

Not a cheap splintered bamboo abacus the merchants of the lower markets used. The sliding beads were carved from flawless, pale green jade - the exact Imperial quality as the pendants Cóng’ér held.

Zhāng knelt slowly, his joints popping with a quiet rhythm, and held the heavy, expensive instrument across the burial hole to Dòu.

“Ever used one of these?” Zhāng asked, his tone shifting into that of a patient tutor.

Dòu blinked.

He looked at the massive pile of silver and copper in the hole, then at the intricate, polished tool the old man was offering. Without a word, Dòu reached out with his thick dirt-caked fingers and took it. He set the abacus on his lap next to the now broken copper string he still held. His brain instantly mesmerized by the smooth slide and heavy clack of the jade beads against the mahogany rails.

Yáo stared at this exchange completely baffled.

His spiraling panic hitched, hitting a wall of sheer and utter confusion. You do not hand a priceless jade artifact of Imperial nature to a slum orphan right before you murder them. His defensive posture began to waver. He didn’t drop the knife, but the blade slowly lowered toward the sand.

Twenty feet above, and about thirty some yards away, the shift in atmospheric pressure was immediately registered. Cóng’ér’s instincts recalibrated, but she remained perched up upon the cliff ledge.

Master Zhāng stood back up fully from handing Dòu the abacus, resting back on his lacquered walking stick. He closely eyeballed the trio- the feral little girl sitting on a cliff shelf to avoid her advancing brother; the battered older protector, whom was still tightly clutching his bone knife, and the silent boy sitting over a small hoard of Imperial treasure now clacking away on his first abacus.

“My name is Master Zhāng,” the old grey bearded man said, his voice carrying an ancient ring of authority. “I am the Ring master of the traveling Circus of Shadows, and I believe, I actually owe you children a thank you for stealing those purses I was due to receive.” Zhāng introduced himself with a practiced showman’s tone.

“A... A thank you?” Yáo repeated. He’d closed in the distance back to Dòu and was now standing several feet behind Dòu. He stumbled on a loose rock, his brain struggling to process this statement. He had not put his blade away.

“Indeed,” Master Zhāng said, his eyes crinkling at the edges with a calm weathered amusement.

“By stripping that Yamen Apprentice in that alley, you have left him in a very delicate position.” Zhāng paused, his eyes focused on Yáo. “He still owes me that tribute, and you have handed me a lot of leverage over the Yamen.”

Dòu did not look up from his lap, the continuous clack, clack, clack as he slid the jade beads across their mahogany rails.

“But the Yamen...” Yáo stammered. He took a hesitant step closer to the old man, his need for details overriding his fear. “But, but the Yamen are kicking doors down in the veins right now. They’re hunting us!”

“They’re balancing a ledger boy,” Zhāng corrected smoothly. “Someone like a Yamen Apprentice Runner cannot admit to the Magistrate that he was bested by a pack of children, no, he’d be flogged in the square for incompetence. And your good friend Lord Fèng, he’s been frantically raving to the garrison about a demon gargoyle on the loose. But you can rest assured the Green Standards and the Yamen are not looking for three children playing in the sand.”

Yáo blinked.

The crushing, suffocating weight he had been carrying all morning simply evaporated. So, they weren’t targets. And after all this, he turned around and looked up at Cóng’ér thirty yards away; she was now sitting on the ledge now doing what looked like eating something.

Zhāng tapped the tip of his lacquered cane against the edge of their burial hole.

“Which brings me to another question,” the Ringmaster mused, peering down at the massive sycee and scattering of silver ingots. “You possess enough capital in this dirt hole here to move to Guangdong, buy a farm or small merchant vessel on the South China Sea and disappear forever. Why are you here, feeding it to the worms?”

“We can’t spend it,” Yáo snapped, his defensive edge returning to his voice, “We can’t spend silver, I don’t even know how Ma gets rid of it. They’ll... They’ll cut off our hands!”

“What a shame,” Zhāng murmured. “So you have the means to acquire the wealth of kings, but haven’t figured out how to spend it. Sounds like a tragic lack of infrastructure.”

Zhāng lifted his cane, pointing it back toward the sprawling, hazy silhouette of Kashgar.

“My Circus of Shadows arrived on the outskirts this very morning. The canvas tents would be rising in the dust as we speak,” Zhāng said, his voice dropping into a smoothly undeniable cadence of authority.

He looked down at Yáo, who looked up to meet his gaze.

“What’s, what’s a Circus of Shadows,” Yáo’s stance had gone completely lax, his grip on his bone knife now quite lax.

“It’s a life on the Silk Road,” Master Zhāng quickly and quietly replied, gripping his heavy lacquered cane. “Rolling wooden wagons that move along like the desert wind, the circus boy, well now, You’ll just have to come see.”

Yáo’s breath hitched.

The Silk Road

Old Ma had just whispered about that last night, a legendary vein of endless wealth and movement, far beyond the stagnant misery of Kashgar.

“A galleon is a big boat,” Dòu announced suddenly to the open air. He slid a final jade bead across the rail with a definitive click. “Wagons are better for the desert. You can’t sail in the dirt.”

Master Zhāng’s beard twitched with a hidden smile.”Astute observation my boy.”

Twenty-some feet above and thirty yards away, Cóng’ér remained perfectly silent. She sat with her small, bare legs dangling freely over the precipice. She had found a cluster of dark-red desert berries growing wild in the tussled scrub brush beside her. She popped another in her mouth, the tart juice staining her lips as she watched the ongoings of the below-people at the bottom valley of the rock face.

She didn’t know what a galleon was or where Guangdong was. What she was paying more attention to was the tone of their voices, and watching the way Yáo’s shoulders were relaxing.

Zhāng tilted his head upward, looking right at Cóng’ér.

He offered her a slow respectful nod.

Leave a comment or critique on this release below:

CONG'ER #12: 6/23 Release

BACK TO CONG'ER #10

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Build the connections and start understanding the math

InSerenity Literary and Artwork’s main content is always free.

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InSerenity Literary (ISL): Solo and Independently run.

Boston, MA 2026

WIKI ON PARALLEL PROCESSING

Insights on independent publishing, literature, creative strategies/design, and local Boston writer & artist initiatives: writing, art, music, science, mathematics.

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Incorporating Hyperbolic Mathematics into Cognitive Psychology: Incorporating the saddle #2

InSerenity Literary — Tue, 16 Jun 2026 21:06:08 GMT

If we remember our saddle from our second article in hyperbolics, this is the fundamental structure and formula we over lay in a form of consciousness. We relate this to what is called parallel processing in psychology.

We we walk down the street we are basically:

Visual Tracking: Predicting the changing walking trajectories of 50 different pedestrians.
Auditory Gating: Dissecting the specific decibel shift of a motorcycle engine buzzing three blocks away.
Kinesthetic/Spatial Awareness: Measuring the physical vibration of an approaching subway line through the concrete.

This is not even to mention who knows that signals we don’t see around us interact and interfere with us. Not so many decades ago, you’d be locked up and called looney for talking about signals in the air. Know why we don’t have better wireless charging capabilities?

They use what is called magnetic induction.

If you broadcast 100 Watts of power from a central hub in the center of a room, a phone 10 feet away, the phone's tiny antenna might only capture 0.05 Watts.

The remaining 99.95 Watts doesn't just disappear; it dissipates into the room, bouncing off walls, furniture, and you.

There is something called Dielectric Heating and it is caused by running high-power RF waves across a room.

Good thing this guy used non-ionizing radio frequency radiation, which causes water and fat molecules in food to vibrate and heat up through friction. Doesn’t cause cancer, but I can’t imagine that’s great for human cells

DIELECTRIC HEATING ON WIKI

Regulatory bodies like the FCC enforce strict SAR (Specific Absorption Rate) limits. These limits cap the maximum amount of RF energy a consumer device can legally deposit into human flesh, it basically has a microwave effect on humans and it’s such a great thing we have the FCC to regulate how much of this corporations can pollute the air with.

TAKE A LOOK AT HUMAN SYMPTOMS

This information is publically available National Institute of Health, Stanford Medicine.

On top of our visual, audio and Kinesthetic tracking within the hyperbolic plane we inhabit- because we indeed have visuals, sound, vibration, smell coming at us and touching all of our surfaces simultaneously.

The sht in the air we can’t see cell waves. whistler waves, radio waves. chorus waves, 5g/6g waves, microwaves, wanna talk about atmospheric gravity waves? Some of it is pretty crazy HP Lovecraft stuff too.

Seriously, Chorus waves- and you really think you’re waking up to the birds chirping?

I call our chaos factor, hallucinations and psychosis are some pretty serious side effects of something most people don’t even realize is there or how it is regulated on a uniform metric of what is safe for all of us in general? Us in the USA, the world? We’re all definitely getting bounced with some waves that were not known about not too long ago- so bare with me- Experimental!

I grew up with this guy 😜

So when we take this:

Pretty linear right? It is called: Linear Algebra for a reason.🤣

We remember that our saddle exists in a curve with it’s edges into an infinite exponential expansion. We lose the typical (x,y,z) grid, and in it’s place, we find a infinite amount of lines intersecting without ever actually touching.

You can relate the human mind to data. Storage and RAM, VRAM, cache clears and cycle loops. In computers we run into hardware restrictions and latency issues.

People experience those same latency issues, those are those hazy moments of confusion, dizziness, disorientation. Like being out of your element.

If you think of say, your Chrome browser, and how many tabs you have open. Phone or laptop, doesn’t matter. We have all seen them- the people with like 30+ tabs open all at once. Why do we close those?

It’s not so much that they take up storage space, they do that anyways, those are memories lets say. They take up RAM in a computer, when too many are open, the computer lags, it is called latency.

We observe like we are watching a single solo computer screen or operating 1 single tab. Some people are doing multiple, Some are hyper-threading and these are the people watching all of those tabs, simultaneously.

This is where our predictive modeling comes in, we can look at it as behavioral but the math we will flip from linear algebra and into trigonometry which deal with angles, more specifically triangles.

Telemetry is the in situ collection of measurements or other data at remote points and their automatic transmission to receiving equipment (telecommunication) for monitoring.^[1] The word is derived from the Greek roots tele, ‘far off’, and metron, ‘measure’. Systems that need external instructions and data to operate require the counterpart of telemetry: telecommand.^[2]

The process of sending, receiving and measuring scientific data over long distances- there is all the data study we can go over in more detailed discussions of the subjects.

You can actually build some pretty interesting stuff on this math, I chose to apply it into psychology and design modeling.

(😜think in triangles - Zelda- Triforce😜)

If you think of spatial tracking like radar and pay attention to this picture- it is a flat Euclidean map- those blips on that radar are in a hyperbolic space at different altitudes. That is the non-Euclidean environment.

If most people looked at this in a radar tower without training or understanding, how do you perceive seeing this on a screen?

Can you look at that and tell which blip is at which altitude?

What happens when more blips start to appear? It is obviously more to track.

When you are in a room with 8 people, every sound, every different conversation, the voice down the hall, a radio, random sounds- a book plopped down, a alarm beep, the cell chirping a text alert, you notice every single movement- you can even close your eyes- and they are still moving on the plotted trajectories.

We will touch base on Thom Hartmann and some cognitive psychologists and other publishings in my next edition and see what other connections the math makes.

PSYCHOLOGY TODAY PUBLISHING

I am going to link this with

NEXT HYPERBOLIC PUBLICATION

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no peeking

Incorporating Hyperbolic Mathematics into Cognitive Psychology: Converting Linear Algebra #1

InSerenity Literary — Mon, 15 Jun 2026 10:54:38 GMT

Typically we look at this: If x occurs, execute y, and the result is z

So one thing I love to do in life apparently, is to confuse the ____ (Mad-lib) out of people. One of the fun parts of Mad-Libs is, we get to insert different variables.

Some of you may recognize the above formula as some very basic linear algebra and pretty legendary piece of computer code. Let’s think about what this formula is and how we can apply this in mathematical psychology.

If x=y then goto z

It is so very simple right? Lets define x, y, and z. Also, we need to remember that Euclidean geometry works based on a (x,y,z) axis- open any graphic design program,

The formula, I am calling Observation.

If you = x, and y=not feeling good.

Maybe it would make sense z= home.

“if you(x) = (y) not feeling good then goto home.”

So this is the observation that spawns the action, we don’t feel good so we are going home. This is a pretty clear and simple and linear thought.

What happens when you’re out somewhere and you don’t have that one thought at that one moment you have something more like this:

Keep in mind this is all very basic algebra 😜 Like literal 5th grade stuff..

Gets a little busy and cloudy doesn’t it?

Notice we however, have some more options here… They look like variations of the initial option. When we apply this to the way we think- this is not just “i don’t feel good, goto home”, this is a consideration of multiple options, they all connect.

At once.

The Oxford Dictionary of Psychology defines cognitive psychology: As the branch of psychology concerned with the scientific study of the mind and mental function, including learning, memory, attention, perception, reasoning, language, conceptual development, and decision-making.

We have a lot to play with here, learning, memory, attention and perception are huge!

Conceptual development and decision making.

Those are pretty heavy, let’s take a look at this, this is written by actual psychologists and professionals in the field and actually publish scientific papers not fox media publications. One thing I can do, is show my cites and sources.

National Center for Biotechnology Information (NCBI). Where am I? The Relation Between Spatial Cognition, Social Cognition and Individual Differences.

You can find this page and research on the button below.

Spatial Cognition & Environmental Maps

This is my introduction to this subject, so if you are unfamiliar with cognitive awareness, perception, how this applies in psychology, you can find a plethora of credible literature in scientific publishings about cognitive spatial mapping.

What happens when it starts happening like this. That is most certainly a lot of what I like to call: Chaos.

In this series, we will discuss positive and negative cognitive looping, triggers, mathematical analysis with much more complex math than linear algebra.

Watch what happens when we start to apply Hyperbolic Mathematics.

Multiple operations in a clean clear fashion

Simultaneously.

When you start understanding the math,

Things seem to become so much more clear.

I will begin regular postings on this work. This is only a simple example taking what is simple linear algebra and showing hyperbolic examples, relating it to psychology and how we think.

Wait until we get into the math behind the hyperbolic hourglass and apply that to psychology.

This cognitive series is for Gurleen.

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DON'T OPEN THIS!

Lorna Dana - Polaris / Magneto's daughter

InSerenity Literary — Sun, 14 Jun 2026 10:02:57 GMT

I was trying to learn different perspective here. This was from a reference and supposed to be more a bird’s eye view or from a high set camera. It came out well enough I was super pleased, but not quite how I wanted it lol.

I have a bad habit of jumping into color way too early in my drawings- but on the turn side I have started some drawing exercises specifically in color where I am doing outlines around it.

Then I started painting, and outlining at all totally threw me off.

I am… All over the place lol,

I added this Lorna to my collection of Lornas 🤣 I was not yet taking so many pictures when I did the other two, I have them both still in my sketch books.

Leave a comment or critique on this release below:

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InSerenity Literary Trendz 6-13-26

InSerenity Literary — Sat, 13 Jun 2026 13:04:53 GMT

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InSerenity Literary Trendz 6-13-26

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We managed to dodge a Friday the 13th by a day here.

This newsletter will focus on some adaptive changes to the overall page, and as promised the beginning of a new newsletter outline that is more interactive and more informative.

Please try as many buttons as you can and at the bottom leave a comment if anything is not working.

Breakdown of sections

ISL HQ Page:

This is the home page in which you are able to explore all areas of InSerenity content. The scroll feed here will contain all of the most current and featured projects I am working on.
EXPLORE INSERENITY LITERARY
ISL Notes:
Notes is more a closed community feed of the Substack creators, this feeds URL and keywords into content for external search engines to pick up. My operation is pretty transparent- you can see the notes I post on architectural photos related to engineering, math, art, etc. All work that I do.
ISL NOTES
ISL Art Works:
Home to the collected art pieces I have either self produced, posted for somebody or are public displays. Living in Boston, this will become quite a wild art collection.
ISL ART WORKS
ISL Trendz Newsletter:
You are reading it now. Released every Saturday approx. 9AM US EST. To avoid email spam this will be restricted to 1 single weekly publish with possible off-schedule updates if needed.
ISL NEWSLETTER
Wang Cong’er Feature Story:
I have been working on Cong’er a long time, this is not an AI story. I have studied this woman for around 20 years now, she is my absolute favorite hero in true world history. It was writing her story that made me realize I have a TON of content in hand written pages and hand made art as well as by hand mathematics as well as structural and engineering diagrams I build for fun.
So here I am- check out my Wang Cong’er, The Ghost General.
READ THE GHOST GENERAL
ISL Hyperbolic Solutions:
This is a rare and advanced style of math I study called Hyperbolic Mathematics. On my pages you can find the famous scientists I have based my work off of.
I will be publishing math and science related informationals and showing work/study here.
ISL SCIENCE DEPARTMENT
ISL Network:
I am looking to network with writers, artists, musicians, producers, home researchers, scientists and street thugs. I have an interesting plan to put some work back into the community and help some of those that need it through my interests- there is A LOT you can do with literature, art, music, science.
The pen mightier than the sword?
Toss in some fine badger hair brushes, a couple of poets.
Someone that rocks a guitar for fun, stir lightly with someone studying people like Mirzakhani and Lan Wu.
One would be surprised what can come out.
formal pitch soon coming.
ISL NETWORKiNG OPPERTUNITIES
ISL Sponsors & Partners:
I’m not shy, I am a poor guy doing some fun and interesting things with ink just how most start their journey. In Boston with some connections, the local culture and individuality outside an AI prompt. I think we can do a lot better for struggling artists of whatever trades.
Some have better work than what's crazy expensive over on Newbury St.
HELP AMP ISL PRODUCTION
Substack Help:
I am approx. 43 days on Substack. Frustrations, lessons, wastes of time, redundant stuff you will do over-over-and-over again learning. I am no expert but i do have some background with html, java, visual and some c++, I am more into playing with Python for Blender and 3d anime these days then this web design nonsense. But…
This is free for the creators going through what I am.
HELPING CREATORS W/ SUBSTACK
ISL Premium:
I will not paywall the majority of the content. I have decided my Cong’er story is coming out here in draft as I push a physical book and audiobook release. I will be eventually adding a lot of perks for a 8 dollar monthly.
For now the first 100 subscribers become lifetime founding members.
The first 100 paid subscribers will also receive lifetime paid memberships.
GET ONBOARD EARLY FOR LIFE
About: I will attempt bi-weekly or monthly updates here if not sooner of the overall position and status of my projects as time moves.
CHECK FOR UPDATES!

Coming July: The Founder’s Council Contests

I am seeking to put together games and prizes. I am pretty sure I can put some fun prize packages together, we just need an active council to vote on contests.

I have plans for other more in depth games in the future but will start with some new spins on Mad-Libs, Crosswords, old school Hangman and some other literary based puzzles so please help me put this together leave a comment below.

DROP SOME WORDS!

On a perfect non-euclidean plane-

You walk forward in a straight line for exactly 10 miles, then turn left exactly 90 degrees.

You walk another 10 miles in a straight line, then turn left exactly 90 degrees again.

Finally, you walk a final 10 miles and stop.

Are you closer to, or further away from, your initial starting point?

ANSWER THE MATH RIDDLE!

Build the connections and start understanding the math:

The State of ISL

Understand what they were trying to say.

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RESTRICTED

Substack hack for organization, importing content & direct engegament

InSerenity Literary — Sat, 13 Jun 2026 11:52:02 GMT

On this article, what I want to show here. Let’s take a look at the note system. This is a highly useful option in the Substack community. We have previously discussed how your notes are actually URL food for external search engines and how to work on direct gains there.

Let’s expand into some other uses I have found.

Outside what we covered previously about scheduling algorithmic timing to our notes so we are triggering external search engines and planting a garden of URL signs pointing directly to us.

We have discovered the value of scheduling our notes ahead so we do not have to do it on the spot and we can sit on the beach in Tahiti once the money starts rolling in,.

We have also we have discussed scheduled timing around our article drops to promote the article in an indirect way in the substack feed but well enough to trigger the external search engines.

So look at these screen shots, again I have my typical organized setup at top in the browser to work on multiple pages at once with my google docs as a middle separator and research link dropper so we are organized.

Now, when I initially setup Substack April 30, I was quite the noob and still am, but I realized I am not getting away with stuffing a single picture into my articles and expecting much engagement on that article. I threw up some stuff trying out the site and putting a basic starter content kit out there so I had something to be seen.

With that said, I draw and paint by hand, I do my notes and research and writing by hand. I have a ____ ton (Mad-Libs🤣) of content I can post and:

1.> One up the AI “Artists” and “Creators”

2.> Build some nice “how my pictures and other content are built”

3.>Add more options, buttons and chances for engagement on my page.

Figure out what it is you have that is unique and don’t just show your product!

People love to see how it was put together.

You have more legit content to spam Substack and its bot with.🤩

(The Japanese Calligraphy translates to “Japanese Mobile Armored Police”. This is what they actually call Ghost in the Shell in Japan, it’s country of origin and is stamped on every one of their comic books.)

For asian calligraphy like this, I verify the script by multiple sources, I print it as seen, I then draw gridded boxes within a sheet of graph paper.

[I use a 1/3 rule dividing the boxes both horizontally and vertically by 1/3 and use those as placement grid to practice a hand sketch. After a few tries I usually get it down and can start looking at doing it on a live drawing I am working on.]

So now, instead of just one picture on the article, I have a few to work with. Unfortunately I drew the Major before I was taking many pictures. I was not quite planning to use this for content then.

I have images for spacers with my text body in between to try to keep people scrolling and I have placed buttons where I think they may get some interaction.

What is a big highlight here- Those notes, I uploaded from my cell phone. You can send 5 photos in 1 note upload. What I do:

Open Substack on Chrome on my cell

Go into Create

Select Notes

Upload the 5 pictures (You can do this live or backstock content)

In the note body box, I type a quick description of the pics attached for ME.

Then hit “DRAFTS” and it will proc a menu to “SAVE DRAFT”

This will upload the files and keep it as a draft for you only so you can leter work on moving the files around on a laptop, just import or drag and drop into your other Substack articles.

For example here, the bottom scheduled article is some comic drawings of Lorna Dane I did. I imported these picture files with this method, and when I did the notes, I scheduled them at times right around when I planned to drop an article that is already scheduled now around my hand drawing of several Lorna Danes.

I’m not here to push you my content.

I am writing in this new Substack Help forum I have put together to demonstrate and show strategies I am using. Things that I have found to save me time and spawn more DIRECT hits from outside substack.

I am still not promoting on social media sites at all. I do plan to eventually, but as a noob here myself- I understand the value of at least trying to setup what I have to offer as best as possible while also gaining some reputation with the fellow creators and Substack bot 😂

One last thing to remember in viewing this again. You can play your own strategy on a post schedule for notes that works for you with your style and content. I would suggest though not going more than 4 hours without a note 6 tops. You will start losing priority with the algorithm that displays your content.

You will see a spike in your unique visitors, impressions and more importantly engagement . Now that you are attempting a monetization, build a system that works for you and around your schedule.

These preset scheduled times can always be changed, for example I will be removing around a 3-4 hour block of likely some of my art or picture notes, rescheduling them to the back of my line here then insert 2-3 notes about this particular article in the timeframe I set it to drop.

This works on a busy schedule, your account is lined up days out on auto-drops, life happens monetize it with pics and video 😅, then find a place to insert it.

Just a matter of organizing.

If this helped drop a line.

Leave a comment or critique on this release below:

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DON'T OPEN THIS!

ISL Feature: Beating Substack Notes Algorithms For Direct Exposure. Free Guide.

InSerenity Literary — Sat, 13 Jun 2026 01:09:54 GMT

CHECK OUT MY ISL HOME

InSerenity Literary

Boston MA, 6 - 2026

Kickin’ it to Substack

So again back here, nice clean workspace. We are going to talk about internet fishing for search engines.

Notice my gmail open top left, my 2 substacks next to it- my untitled scrap document in the middle, and another 2 substack pages open next to it for quick surfing for links I may want to add to my article I am now writing:

I am using the second Substack tab as my primary article constructor, this is definitely optional- I just find that Substack page interaction tends to generate additional Substack pages, they multiply faster than kittens so. To avoid confusion.

This is what I like to do with notes and everybody should certainly be taking advantage of the Schedule option.

I have been playing with timing placement between 60 minutes and 240 minutes primarily. I have been looking at world time zones and calculating market times in USA/UK/AUS to increase distribution during these peak times as to when people will be on their cell phone or more leasureful on their laptops.

This data can be found by researching popular purchase times for online products- companies do market studies on this. We can access those for our strategies.

Remember, Substack notes is a community of other Substack creators marketing their own product, statistically they do not want to buy your product. What I am doing here, is showing some visualization. It is proven notes with pictures get more engagement (clicks, screen time, likes, etc),

If you only put one picture you have a flat Euclidean page. no options, just scroll by. If you put multiple pictures. “Hey, what’s that other picture”, — and you are now spawning engagement. It is no joke or over exaggeration- Every millisecond (ms) you spend on that image is counted, every click, like, button is recorded.

And this adds to your engagement rates.

Adding video jacks that even more- especially if the cover image of your video looks interesting enough for someone to want to look more at.

If we take a look at this note, as mentioned in my previous article, this area- these first few lines of your note are highly sensitive to outside search engines. Let’s look and see:

“Boston architectural recap from yesterday. This is pretty much a normal day for me , tall beautiful sky rises, old romanesque and Gothic structures. Tall ships should be coming soon. That will be fun.”

Think keywords, hashtags, url code.. “Boston”, “#archetectural”, '“Sky rises”, “#romanesque”
Are you catching on? “Tall Ships” is an event that is held yearly in boston that is soon coming, people will be inputting this string into search engines- soon i will be putting real self-taken photos of those tall ships.

Would you like me to post more articles like this ?

Drop a comment and tell me where your struggling or, drop additional tips/critiques.

HACKING SUBSTACK PUBLISH #1

To close this article off with this tip on Substack notes, I am writing this article along as I zip through and cut screen shots- let’s draw some connections below.

We have established a way to get our notes out where external engines like Google, Firefox, Dogpile, Facebook, Instagram, etc, etc will pick them up. We are planting seeds all over the internet in a strategic fashion that fits Substack note community and also jacks our computer science knowledge a little bit through their system.

So now, as we conclude an article- we start to think when we are going to schedule it to publish.

We drop a note or two about it before we drop the article to promote it, we drop the article itself, and then we drop a couple notes about it prior, and let’s see what happens.

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Check out my previous and first help post on Substack on learning how to strategically place your buttons

Build the connections and start understanding the math

READ WANG CONG'ER PROLOGUE

Learn the physical reality behind the myths of one of the world’s forsaken Legends.

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RESTRICTED

Learn Substack from a start up not a Ai Guru

InSerenity Literary — Fri, 12 Jun 2026 03:05:54 GMT

GO PREMIUM!

Tell what your Substack experience level is

So as many of us are starting out of the gate here on Substack, I myself opened the door April 30th here 2026.

I am going to share what I am learning here vs you guys paying the AI Guru’s for mass printed junk for your however much subscription. They won’t show you things like this and it will save you days and weeks of time. Don’t give that dood money- hit em’ with the good ol’ flying nut-kick, that’s what we reserve that for.

There will be a button coming on my homepage labeled “Substack” where I will begin publishing free for everyone tips and tricks I am picking up to maximize page aesthetics, user ease, and more importantly spawning engagement and fishing among external search engines. Please feel free to engage, ask questions, drop pointers and tips, and also bring your flavor of what you do and drop a link on yourself. Let us all help one another learn and grow together as best we can.

I went to college early millenium when the internet did not exist, and kept up through its infancy here. One thing I want to talk about is brief and a bit between computer science and marketing here.

Now understand I don’t have a great numbers of subscribers, I have about double the followers as actual subscribers however, I am not and have not at all been advertising on any major social media sites. I don’t even have a FB or Insta, none of that. I am looking for sponsors and partners, but I am not selling content yet, I am simply getting a head start on planting seeds all over the internet.

What Kind of Substack experience do you have?

You are not marketing here on Substack to other creators, If you believed that signing up you are incorrect. It is more like a meat market, and everybody is selling meat. This is basically a store front for you to bring outside perspectives in that may want to pay for your subscription or whatever else you are offering.

Let’s start with this first picture.

What to pay attention too is not just Substack itself, but the overall chrome display setup- note at the top I have my gmail open on the left tab, 2 substack tabs, and a scrap document tab separating 2 more substack tabs.

I keep it very organized because Substack tabs tend to like to multiply on you and this way I can keep that under tabs 🤣, not end up with multiplicity on my browser, and have a spacer between that I am actually using.

It gets confusing ending up with a dozen Substacks all wanting attention at once.

The Left 2 substacks are a view mode or when I am pulling copy/paste sections off another post I also want on this particular post, ie: stuff like a header setup, or footer that has all your buttons and engagement features. I also use this to test articles I am working on in real time prior to publishing them (and always still find errors 😛)

The Right 2 Substacks are the page I am currently working on in the live editor-

Now this is a cool trick- I am working on a story and it is quite long. I am releasing it broken up into sections of anywhere from 2k-15k words. What I can do with this- is use the “INSERT CUSTOM BUTTON” option. From say page 5, I goto Page 6, copy the URL and paste it into the custom button bottom URL insert then set the top panel option with something like “GO READ PAGE 6 NOW!”- this inserts a direct link from where they currently just ended page 5, directly to the continuation of the story in its next release.

You can also obviously do the opposite to go a page back. It can be optional and personal if it seems a little much- but overall how Substack tracks and handles engagement- it indeed creates more clicks, engagement and shows your viewers more content.

Below are two buttons you want to limit where you put on your page for obvious reasons.

BAD HABIT #1

BAD HABIT #2

You can test them, these are most definitely great options to know how to use, I would suggest not being overly pushy, display them no more than once per page in a strategically dropped place where you really think you have your readers attention.

These buttons are made by simply going into the button panel and using custom button and inserting the destination URL in the bottom box and whatever you want really in the top box. Let’s have some fun with it and play some psychology into it to increase engagement.

The human is a curious creature.

PULL MY FINGER

You can do a lot of cool creative things with these, including making an entire article of nothing but story buttons if you want. here is how i used mine in a way i am trying to play some psychology to at least gain clicks:

So if you notice here I have put a “RESTRICTED” button in there, i have also used “PRIVATE”, “NOT YET PUBLIC”- I assume people will be a bit curious about what is inside there, and- here is my fun prank it leads them to something like this:

You might lose some people on my particular method, make note to throw up a really BIG “DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME” on pretty much anything I do, but hey, those that click, some people have a sense of humor, I really don’t want the ones that don’t anyways, back to that flying nut-kick.

The Divider Page

So, because I do a lot in story writing, I am used to keeping character vaults like this in side windows for quick recall, this particular document, is a set of URL tags, and link lists of information I am recycling around alot between articles.

Now I also do a lot of technical writing that requires quite a bit more research than for my story writing. I do not feed AI prompts to feed me research data, I scour it off reputable locations myself. Much of this is posted in my work because when you post scientific data, you are typically required to show work and cite references

This is also very good because putting links does what? It encourages further engagement, more clicks for you, more placement by the ss bot in your notes and articles.

Substack also as well as a TAB button does not have a line insert so keep your inserts and decoratives in a nice ready to go scrap document for fast cut & paste.

Search Placement

Now that we know Substack is a back boiler room of a bunch of chefs all stirring the same pot with their _____. Anyone play mad-libs? COMING SOON TO MY PAGE FOR PRIZES!

(how I insert short promos 🤣- and don’t be afraid to write like the kids use emojis! you wanna catch all the markets! writing like grandma only attracts other grandmas…)

We aren’t looking for customers on substack because it is mostly all sellers. So that note feed is more like a social place however, your words there within the first 293 characters (you know where the “SEE MORE” pops up?!") are highly functional keyword triggers for external search engines : Google, Facebook, Instagram, etc…

If you look at this chart 2577 views- the high majority are coming in direct. This means that the exterior search engines are finding my posts and people are coming to my site by clicking a link through one of the external sites.

Note that my second highest is 481 Substack emails opened.

You can also see direct hits from google and other sites- these seem considerably low- but considering a world market, when people login via a VPN or incognito mode, this will not register information like which engine it is coming though.

Now let’s view the traffic since my initial April 30th launch:

Can you see the %’s where the hits are coming from?

So.. I wanted to share this as the initial kick off. This next menu is quite important, you will find it in your settings tab on the article editor- scroll down to SEO options- this places your title and just junk. This is literally an acronym for “SEARCH ENGINE OPTIMIZATION”.

So… If you’re missing this, well do the math.

There are 2 boxes in here, the top box you have a 60 character max, write this as a title using as many KEYWORDS about your subject you believe others would type into a search engine.

The second box allows many more characters, fill this with a more detailed query write up of your subject, again using keywords for the engine.

When you add tags.. Do NOT load the box up, 5-6 tages directly related to your subject is what the engine will recognize, adding additional you will start getting flagged as spam and receive less placement in the ss algorithm placement order.

Where this will save you a ton of time, is when you realize you have published dozens of articles and hundreds of notes, and you are looking back to link them together, or add your buttons to create more engagement, not to mention, many just miss the creative ways to use them.

I will be writing further on some testing I am doing and other findings and be publishing them in a similar fashion to this.

Don’t Pay the AI Guru for the bad multiplicity copies his AI is marketing you.

I’ll post my findings here for free, hopefully some others will chime in.

Leave a comment or critique on this release below:

Tell what you need Substack help with

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InSerenity Literary (ISL): Solo and Independently run.

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no peeking

A Tribute to a Mathematical Legend: Maryam Mirzakhani

Wed, 10 Jun 2026 07:05:00 GMT

⏳⏳⏳

🧮 Maryam Mirzakhani 🧮

🟰The Godmother of hyperbolic geometry🟰

⏳

InSerenity Literary is free to Subscribe.

ISL INTRODUCTION TO HYPERBOLICS

In 2014, Maryam Mirzakhani was the first woman ever to be awarded mathematic’s highest primary honorary award: The Fields Medal. This is the Nobel Prize for mathematics.

Maryam passed away in 2017 after a four year downhill battle with breast cancer.

May 12, 1977 Tehran, Iran- from a country where women still suffer major oppression

July 14, 2017 Stanford, California- Harvard PhD in mathematics, professor of advanced geometrical mathematics with tenures at both Princeton and Stanford universities.

In 2014, after winning the world’s highest honor in mathematics Iranian newspapers famously altered her photos. Even a world-class woman genius would not be publicly displayed without a mandatory hijab.

I HAVE HEARD OF THIS WOMAN!

DOES'NT RING A BELL.

Check out Maryam on Wiki

Maryam blasted her mathematics professor at Harvard, Prof. Curtis McMullen with an exotic and artistically designed thesis :

Simple Geodesics on Hyperbolic Surfaces and the Volume of the Moduli Space of Curves.

This thesis connected several very specialized fields within Hyperbolic Geometry, Topology, Teichmüller Theory, and Ergodic Dynamics Theory.

And this was only her initial thesis.

"The most rewarding part of my work is the 'Aha' moment, the excitement of discovery and enjoyment of understanding something new—the feeling of being on top of a hill and having a clear view. But most of the time, doing mathematics for me is like being on a long hike with no trail and no end in sight." -Maryam Mirzakhani

Show support and share Maryam’s story and her teachings.

Scientific Definition of Isomorphism

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The following images may cause dizziness, confusion and visions of different dimensions.

This is not a test.

This is the Mathematical Reality of the Hyperbolic.

And…

The Twilight Zone.

⏳⌛

🤪🤪😜😜🤪🤪

What comes to mind when we say isomorphism?

I grew up with MC Escher prints on my bedroom walls, there were two in particular.

Some pretty crazy looking stairs known as Escher’s Relativity,

So, let's define Isomorphism and then take a look at another Escher inspiration.

I typically like to go by Oxford definitions as it is considered highly respected in the academic community if you prefer Webster’s you will find similar definitions, just be weary of the Urban Dictionary:

According to the Oxford English Dictionary, isomorphism refers to a correspondence, similarity, or identity of form, shape, or structure between two different things. The term comes from the Greek words isos (equal) and morphe (form). [1, 2, 3]

The definition varies slightly depending on the field of study:

Mathematics & Logic: A one-to-one mapping (correspondence) between two sets or mathematical systems that preserves the basic operations, relations, and structure. Essentially, two systems are isomorphic if they share the exact same structural properties. [1, 2, 3]
Chemistry: The existence of two or more different chemical substances that crystallize in the exact same or very similar geometric form. [1, 2]
Biology: A similarity in the outward form, shape, or appearance of organisms belonging to different species, or between different generations in the same life cycle. [1, 2]
Sociology / Business: The tendency for different organizations within a similar field or environment to adopt similar processes, structures, and behaviors over time. [1, 2]
The Link to the Oxford Dictionary is provided below:
Oxford definition of Isomorphism

This is of course the famous Impossible Waterfall by MC Escher.

EXPLAIN THIS IMAGE

(Can we assess, generally, which way is up using reason and logic?)

(How could we argue that the water is flowing upward in this image?)

Check out Escher on Wiki

Now because I will be applying scientific method with the intention to challenge some rules and theories based on Maryam’s geometry.

Who doesn’t like to play with math formulas, and find alternative variables to replace into equations?

🤪

I LOVE PLAYING WITH MATH

NAH, MATH SUCKS!

One of the first things I learned in debate, was to lay down clear definitions of the subject and a unified standing thereof so I also like to refer to the Scientific Definition as well :

An isomorphism is a structure-preserving mapping between two objects that shows their underlying structures are essentially identical. While the term means “equal form” (from Greek isos and morphe), its specific definition varies depending on the scientific discipline. [1, 2, 3]

1. Mathematics and Computer Science

An isomorphism is a bijective (one-to-one and onto) map between two mathematical structures that preserves the operations, relations, and properties of the elements. If two objects are isomorphic, they are structurally identical; one can be translated into the other and back again without losing any information. [1, 2, 3, 4]

This combines two elements:

A binary operation is a rule for gluing two things together to get a new thing. Common examples include addition (+), subtraction (-), multiplication (x), or division (÷). Just a placeholder symbol used to stand in for any of these rules, I have not yet figured out how to write formula here .🤬

Example: In group theory, let f be a mapping between two sets that preserves the operation such that: f(x * y) = f(x) * f(y). [1]

2. Chemistry

In chemistry, isomorphism refers to two or more different chemical substances that crystallize in the exact same crystalline structure or form. [1, 2, 3]

Example: The garnet mineral group or potassium dihydrogen phosphate and ammonium dihydrogen phosphate, which share the same crystal lattice and can form mixed crystals despite varying chemical compositions. [1]

3. Biology

In biology and paleontology, it describes organisms of different ancestry or lineage that exhibit extreme similarity in physical appearance or structure, often due to convergent evolution. It can also refer to organisms whose different life stages (e.g., haploid and diploid phases) are completely indistinguishable by morphology. [1, 2, 3]

4. Psychology and Neuroscience

Borrowed from Gestalt psychology, it is the theoretical concept that there is a direct, structural, and functional correspondence between an external physical stimulus and the brain state/physiological processes created by that stimulus. [1, 2]

5. Sociology and Organization Theory

Referred to as institutional isomorphism, this concept describes how organizations facing the same environmental constraints or pressures become increasingly similar in their structures, processes, and culture over time, often imitating one another. [1,2]

Here is a link to where you can find this:

My sister was into Ansel Adams photography,

Check out Ansel on Wiki

. . .and a retired USAF ATC officer who made summer of 69’ live at woodstock at 15 years old, my mother was quilting patterns by Jinny Beyer-

(This is a more simple display of isomorphism. stare at the image, but don’t look directly at it, use peripheral vision.)

HOW MANY DESIGNS DO YOU SEE?

Try this for about a minute, look away, close your eyes for about ten seconds, then again look back directly at it using your peripheral vision only.

CAN YOU SEE THE IMAGE MOVE?

I will continue with Maryam Mirzakhani’s geometry in my next publishing in her honor, I will go over her accomplishments and discoveries. Along the way I will show what I am doing to use her mathematics to apply to graphic design, and light projection via holographic imaging and some other projects.

Check out Jinny on wiki below- and overall give a good look and study of these people and their works. We are building a bridge with Maryam’s geometry and mathematics. Let’s see what is connects to.

Check out Jinny on Wiki

⌛⌛⌛

Build the connections and start understanding the math

InSerenity Literary and Artwork’s main content is always free.

⌛Drop a link on all your favorite platforms. ⌛

inserenity857@gmail.com

InSerenity Literary (ISL): Solo and Independently run.

Boston, MA 2026

Insights on independent publishing, literature, creative strategies/design, and local Boston writer & artist initiatives: writing, art, music, science, mathematics.

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Wang Cong’er, The Ghost General; Chapter 1 : The Pulse of the Low-City. Release #10 6/9/26

InSerenity Literary — Tue, 09 Jun 2026 21:05:31 GMT

Wáng Cóng’ér

“The Ghost General”

[Chapter 1:“The Pulse of the Low City.”]

1780

“Year of the Metal Rat”

Kashgar, Xinjiang Province, China.

Release #10

-[👣 KASHGAR WEST HUB- ONE ALLEY OVER OLD MAN BAO’S HOVEL 🔥]-

The Kashgar mud-veins were suffocatingly still in the late morning heat.

In a cramped, lopsided hovel near the eastern market, an old melon-vendor whom had worked a fourteen-hour shift in the sun the previous day, completely exhausted. His calloused hands resting on his chest,

A single blow-fly buzzed lazily around old man Bao’s head. It landed on his sweat soaked brow.

Old Man Bao did not swat at it.

Too heavy within the dreamless slumber of the working poor.

Then, a heavy, rhythmic vibration shuddered through the packed dirt floor.

Thud-THUD- Thud.

The fly buzzed away and Bao stirred, the brow furrowing as the vibration grew louder, syncing with the heavy march of iron-studded boots.

Bao opened his eyes, blinking against the harsh shafts of light cutting through his rotting window shutters. He sat up, groggy, reaching for his worn leather sandals.

CRACK.

The heavy wooden door didn’t just open; it exploded inward off its iron hinges, sending a shower of lethal splinters across the room.

Bao screamed, throwing his hands over his face as two massive Yamen runners surged through the blinding dirt.

They didn’t ask him his name. They did not check for tattoos.

The first runner grabbed the terrified melon vendor by the collar of his sleeping tunic and hurled him violently against the clay wall.

-[👣 KASHGAR WEST HUB PAI GOW GAMBLING DEN 🔥]-

Three Alleys over a heavy Imperial boot kicked a semi steel-reinforced door completely out of its frame. Thick opium smoke bellowed out into the street.

Inside, twelve hardened Triad enforcers scrambled backwards, upending the wooden tables.

Pai Gow tiles, copper coins and large amounts of silver scattered across the floor in a chaotic clutter.

“Yamen!” someone screamed.

One of the Triads lunged forward with a well rusted meat cleaver.

-[👣 KASHGAR WEST HUB- SLUM ALLEYS 🔥]-

Two streets south, a young triad courier didn’t wait for the breach. The very second he saw the green uniforms turn the corner, he dropped his bamboo basket, vaulted a shattered window and hit the ground sprinting.

Coming to a small hovel, he scrambled up a stack of rotting crates, hauling himself onto the flat clay rooftops of the slums. His feet slapped at the tiles, below him three Yamen Runners were in a relentless pursuit, their heavy boots tearing through the dirt of the alleys.

Wang Cong’er: Release #10

The Pulse of the Low-City

-[👣 KASHGAR WEST HUB- ONE ALLEY OVER OLD MAN BAO’S HOVEL 🔥]-

“I sell melons! I sell melons!” Bao shrieked, his voice cracking with a pure terror as a heavy iron chain was violently looped around his neck and wrists. A Yamen compliance club cracked into the back of his knees, sending the old tired man collapsing into the dirt.

-[👣 KASHGAR WEST HUB PAI GOW GAMBLING DEN 🔥]-

The Triad with the meat cleaver didn’t make it two steps. A Green Standard soldier stepped through the smoke, his rattan shield raised. He drove the butt of the heavy spear directly into the man’s teeth.

The Triad dropped like a stone.

The Yamen Runners flooded the den like a pack of starving wolves, swinging iron-wood clubs.

Bones snapped.

Men screamed.

The heavy sickening sound of wood hitting flesh and bone drowned out all other sound within the room.

-[👣 KASHGAR WEST HUB- SLUM ALLEYS 🔥]-

The courier was fast, leaping a four-foot gap between two hovels, his hands windmilling to keep his balance.

He hit the next roof rolling, scrambling back to his feet.

The Yamen Runner below knew these alleys well.

He sprinted ahead, anticipating the trajectory of the Triad and uncoiling a weighted iron arrest chain.

Whipping it upward into a violent arc, the heavy iron links flew and like a metallic snake wrapped around the courier’s ankle mid-stride.

-[👣 KASHGAR WEST HUB- ONE ALLEY OVER OLD MAN BAO’S HOVEL 🔥]-

Bao was dragged out into the blinding Kashgar sun by his hair.

His bare knees scraping raw against the jagged paving stones. He now bore several swelling knots on his face, his legs screaming from the abuse of the iron-wood batons.

He was weeping a hoarse terrified Rasp.

-[👣 KASHGAR WEST HUB PAI GOW GAMBLING DEN 🔥]-

The twelve Triads in the Pai Gow Den were brutally incapacitated.

They did not walk out of the establishment, they were practically thrown through its shattered doorway.

The enforcer who had swung the meat cleaver was dragged out by four large Yamen choking on his own shattered teeth and spitting thick blood into the dirt.

The other of the twelve men were bound at their wrists and violently pushed and shoved out to the point of collapse where they were forced to stand creating a stumbling bruised line until the runners kicked at the backs of their knees, forcing them into the dirt.

Alongside a sobbing melon vendor.

Wang Cong’er: Release #10

The Pulse of the Low-City

-[👣 KASHGAR WEST HUB- SLUM ALLEYS 🔥]-

The chain had snapped tight and taut.

The courier’s momentum abruptly Arrested, and he was yanked down, crashing face-first onto the clay tiles with a sickening crunch.

Before the Triad courier could even groan, the Yamen Runner hauled back on the heavy links, dragging the limp, bleeding man off the roof and letting him free-fall into the hard dirt alley below.

The doors were kicked.

The Triad blood was drawn.

The rhythm of the Yamen raid abruptly slowed, leaving only the ringing echoes of barking dogs, buzzing flies and the tense, ragged breathing of the prisoners.

The Magistrate’s lead Runner stepped into the intersection of the alleys.

He did not look panicked, nor did he look angry.

His new Imperial uniform was spotless, completely free of the dust or dirt of the slums.

He slowly unrolled a scroll of Imperial parchment, his cold eyes scanning at the bruised, chained men kneeling in the dirt.

Twelve Triad members of the Pai Gow gambling den, a broken and beaten Triad courier and a terrified mistaken man.

The dust from the shattered doors still hung in the stagnant Kashgar air, catching the harsh late-morning sunlight.

The only sounds left in the alleys were now the muffled sobs of the melon vendor and the wet ragged breathing of the Triad with the shattered teeth.

The Apprentice Runner, who just late last night, had the worst night of his life paced down the line of the fourteen kneeling men. His new boots pristine as they crunched softly in the gravel.

Behind him, in a heavy silence stood twenty-five green standard soldiers, shoulder to shoulder.

Spears and daos rested at the ready.

The Magistrate’s Apprentice stopped in the center of the line. He tapped a stick of red sealing wax rhythmically against his palm.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Last night,” The Apprentice began, his voice smooth, it echoed clearly off the cramped clay walls of the mud-veins. “An official of the Yamen was viciously ambushed in the district. He was physically assaulted, stripped of Imperial property.”

A ripple of genuine confusion ripped through the kneeling men.

Assaulting a Yamen was suicide.

None of the Triads knew of any syndicate hits authorized on any Yamen.

And Bao, he was now in a world he knew absolutely nothing about.

The young Yamen stopped in front of a triad pulled from the Pai Gow gambling den.

The man was swaying heavily, blood dripping from his chin onto his torn tunic.

The Apprentice crouched down so he and the man with the broken teeth were eye level.

“Is your syndicate getting bold now?” The Apprentice asked, yelling so all in attendance could hear. His eyes were deadpan and cold.

“Do you think because it’s overlooked that if you run a few Pai Gow tables, you can suddenly put your hands on the Emperor’s silver?” “Do you not think the Magistrate would not respond?”

The Yamen stood back up, his face an unreadable mask.

The silence broke.

“We... We don’t know anything about a Yamen being attacked. We pay the Magistrate his tax and.. and I didn’t touch your silver!” One of the Triads belched.

The Yamen Apprentice eyeballed the man, turned and slowly walked down the line stopping in front of Bao.

The old melon vendor flinched, squeezing his eyes shut. He was violently trembling as the Yamen’s shadow fell over him.

The Apprentice just remained silent and stared down at the terrified melon vendor for a long, heavy moment, letting the sheer weight of the Imperial authority press the air out of the alley.

“The list of stolen property is extensive,” the Yamen announced, turning his back on Bao and addressing the entire bruised and battered line up.

“The penalty for theft of Imperial property,” the young Apprentice paused, looking down at the broken men kneeling, chained in the dirt. “Is death by public hanging. Yamen Authority will not be denied!”

The group of Triads exchanged horrified glances.

Whoever had pulled this heist had just condemned the entire district to a random purge.

The Yamen Apprentice stared at the group of them, his face completely devoid of emotion.

The absolute, bewildered silence that fell upon the kneeling prisoners was deafening.

The Triad with the shattered teeth slowly blinked, staring up at the young, pristine officer as if the boy had just spoken in tongues.

Even Bao stopped sobbing, utterly paralyzed by the sheer realization of what was just said and his position here with these men.

-[👣 KASHGAR EAST HUB- MAGISTRATE SHĚN’S OFFICE 🔥]-

Magistrate Shěn’s private sanctum was a stark, jarring contrast to the squalor of the mud-vein alleyways of Kashgar.

The air inside the heavy cedar doors was thick with the scent of burning sandalwood. It was a desperate attempt to mask the ever-present smell of the dusty streets.

Sunlight filtered through intricate silk screens casting long geometrical shadows across Shěn’s desk.

Behind the desk, Shěn sat with his eyes closed, he was aggressively rubbing his temples. The only sound in the room was the sharp rhythmic tick, tick, tick of a jade Abacus beneath his finger tips.

Standing at rigid attention on the woven carpet, were the night watch men, Lao and Gao.

Shěn stopped counting. He did not open his eyes.

“A gargoyle,” Shěn whispered. His voice dangerously soft, barely carrying over the hiss of his incense burner.

Lao swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Magistrate, Sir, I swear on—”

“You will not speak,” Shěn snapped, finally opening his eyes. They were bloodshot and devoid of mercy. “You will stand there, and listen to the true extensive, magnitude of your own incompetence!”

Shěn slowly pushed the jade abacus away. “Last night, you found the Yamen’s head runner, my most trusted apprentice in a quite precarious position,” Shěn’s voice dropped to a rigid octave. “He reported an ambush by several masked assailants.”

Gao nervously shifted his weight.

“And apparently,” Shěn continued, his eyes locking onto Gao, “You did not have all of your proper equipment on you, as you should. So instead of immediately retrieving your keys, you left a humiliated Imperial Officer shackled to a wooden post in the freezing night so you could hunt gargoyles in the alleyways.

“He did say there were eight-assailants, Sir,” Gao blurted out. “That’s why we had to secure the perimeter, the attackers could have still been-”

“You went on a gargoyle hunt,” Shěn hissed, slamming his hand hard and flat against the desk. “That! is what I’m writing in my report! You left my head runner chained like a dog so you could wander the alleys and make jokes about Lord Fèng’s mythical fucking gargoyle!”

Shěn leaned back in his heavy wooden chair, steepling his fingers.

The stretched out, heavy and tensely grim.

“The Apprentice is currently in the slums, hunting down the men who actually did this,” Shěn said, dripping with aristocratic disgust. “And now, I have to deal with the two absolute fools who turned the Yamen into a laughing stock.”

Shěn picked up a calligraphy brush and pointed it at Lao and Gao.

“You are both hereby removed from all patrol duties. You will report to the Green Standard Cavalry master and you will muck out the garrison stables. When the stables are pristine, you will be emptying the infantry latrines, and you will beg the Cavalry Quartermaster to keep the both of you busy until I see the first snow!”

Shěn dropped the brush back on its ink stone.

“Get out of my garrison,” he hissed.

Wang Cong’er: Release #10

The Pulse of the Low-City