Monday, January 23, 2012

Channelled Fractal 4: Gregor Mendel

Channelled Fractal 4: Gregor Mendel

Channelled Fractal 4: Gregor Mendel (2001)


When two plants, constantly different in one or several traits, are crossed, the traits they have in common are transmitted unchanged to the hybrids and their progeny, as numerous experiments have proven; a pair of differing traits, on the other hand, are united in the hybrid to form a new trait, which usually is subject to changes in the hybrids' progeny.
--Gregor Mendel, Experiments in Plant Hybrids (1865)

Gregor Mendel, who is known as the "father of modern genetics," was inspired by both his professors at university and his colleagues at the monastery to study variation in plants, and he conducted his study in the monastery's garden.
--Machines Like Us


Image Initially made with Sterling-ware. Post-processed until the dominant traits became recessive.

For musical cross-pollination, here's a song about selective breeding-- "Racehorse" by Wild Flag -- live in Philadelphia in March of 2011:


1 comment:

Dr. Mike said...

The Scorpion Carapace

Seventeen rubies shape a quadrangle across the black velvet brace that is attached by adjustable Velcro straps to the right leg – a living, breathing, garter belt squeezing the thighs, popping blood vessels out. Nothing has value unless it is sexualized. Hobbled in this manner, the wearer learns humility.

Any special grace that the recovering body develops in compensation for being crippled glosses over raw bruises. Daily the routine of assembly and disassembly -- pulling straps loose, readjusting the brace, pulling straps tight – teaches patience and concentration, essential elements in the preconditioning to actual use. Teleologically challenging, the animus of these furry, well-padded creatures thrives by acts of compression. Pulses throb and warm the leg. The body knows the future better than the mind.

As a hope generator.

Only clouds subside, transforming shape. Waking could be banned. Hanging upside down from a bar could turn frowns into smiles. Attached to a rotating wheel, muscles revive, with some hope for a spring.

Its electrical pulse thrums slowly into the future, especially to catch a whiff of violence on the periphery. Every movement before us did not obliterate language. So accomplished, a new aspiration develops, and so on, into infinity.

The only real pain is its sting.

[Disposable Prose Revised January 20, 2012]
Dr. Mike

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