The cloud isn’t a mysterious script (as Theophrastus believes), a hieroglyph, an ideogram in the open book of the sky. The book of celestial omens, the alphabet of paranoiacs, of necessity, fate and determinism, has been outlined by the Chaldean readers ever since the first Morning Star lit up the night of reason. But no, the cloud is neither a secret code nor a primitive alphabet. A dynamic of meaning of the adventure-here, it is a meaning which, before writing and drawing, before meaning anything, persists in metamorphosis, in an unravelling form; it paints, swirls, thickens, strikes and attacks. The meteor is a stellar cloud, or stellar lightning. It isn’t an omen, it is a rupture of the fabric of omens, of the looming signs. It rips a hole in the void where the cosmos draws the stunned gaze into the vortex of the void.
The cloud isn’t a script, a cryptogram of fate, a meteor, a comet, an avenging supreme force, a giant brain in the sky – its vapours, a thinking cosmos, solaris, a plastic brain of matter; it is a neuronal dispersion, an agent, subject, agency without a place and in a synchronous time that unfolds in parallel times and spaces, an alter-actualization that sediments matter in anachronous forms, an immanent dynamic, an unimaginable technique, volcanic cartography.
Yes, the cloud isn’t a writing system but it is an agent of writing, it is an author of the revolution, it is a force of cosmic history, being also its effect. It is a front of Chaos – the cloud of all clouds that stretches along the ridge of the Universe as its unbeginning but also unending core – it is a force not of the finality but of the counter-finality of the world.
The cloud isn’t only a part of the meteorological system, it is a force of the metabolism of the biosphere, of the noosphere, of neuronal, insect-like dispersion.
Excerpt from Boyan Manchev Clouds. Philosophy of the Free Body. Translated from the Bulgarian by Katerina Popova, Sofia: Metheor, 2019 (2017), Chapter II: “Ontology of the Cloud”, p. 47.