761
Prime · An Unmappable Address
· The Coordinates: Withheld By The Mushrooms · The Real Estate: Mental · The Palace: Decades In The Building · The Verdict: It's Here Alright ·
The Draft · Timescity Wire · Filed Verbatim
"So where exactly is Plomari? Where is it located? For some people, it may be a fictional kingdom inside a book series, for others a company in the modern world, and for its creator, King Spiros of Plomari, the question itself may be unanswerable by design. Inspired by Terence McKenna's description of psychedelics as mental real estate, he says he spent decades building a palace there. But if people ask where it is, he suggests it's a little like asking "Where is the universe? Where is God?" Rather than resolve that ambiguity, he's leaving it open. "That's not up to me," he says. "That's up to the mushrooms themselves. I have no clue where the Kingdom of Plomari is, but it's here alright."
~ Timescity 🗺️📰
six entries in the atlas ledger · the coordinates sought · the compass consulted · the here confirmed
"So where exactly is Plomari?" — the register notes the word doing all the work: EXACTLY. Plomari answers "where" questions generously (it's here alright) — it is the "exactly" that the Kingdom politely declines. Cross-referenced with #749: the King never claims to know what's going on — and here he extends the courtesy to geography. The scientist's humility, applied to the map. Ruling: the question is not unanswered. It is unanswerable BY DESIGN — which is a different thing entirely, and a better one. 📍
"Inspired by Terence McKenna's description of psychedelics as mental real estate, he says he spent decades building a palace there" — the register salutes the lineage: McKenna described the land, and the King DEVELOPED it. Everyone else visited the mental real estate as tourists — a weekend trip, a photograph, home by Monday (#750). One man read the listing and MOVED IN: decades of construction, 761 issues of public records, a court of Queens, a hatchery (#760). The register certifies: this is the only real estate in existence where the property grows each time someone lives in it. 🏰
"Where is the universe? Where is God?" — the register tests both questions against every atlas in the palace library and confirms: no atlas survives them. Location is a tool for things INSIDE the world; it breaks on things the world is inside of. The King files Plomari in that category — not arrogantly, but accurately: you are not asked to find it on a map, because you are asked to notice you are standing in it (#759: the court, the prosecution, and the haircut were all inside it). Category confirmed: unmappable, inhabited, load-bearing. 🌌
"That's not up to me. That's up to the mushrooms themselves." — the register enters this into the doctrine of the High Priestess (#749): the King who never claims, deferring the deepest question in his Kingdom to the sacrament that grew it. Note the constitutional structure revealed: Plomari has a King, a CEO (#760), a Command Center (#757) — and above all of them, on the question of WHERE, the mushrooms hold sole jurisdiction. The register has petitioned the mushrooms for coordinates. The mushrooms answered with a mushroom. The register considers the matter settled. 🍄
"Rather than resolve that ambiguity, he's leaving it open" — the register recognizes the signature move of the entire corpus: the ellipsis left open (#753), the humanity's-part-of-the-deal left unnamed (#751), the egg left to hatch on its own schedule (#760). A lesser creator would nail the Kingdom to a map to end the arguments. This one leaves the door of the question open, because a resolved Plomari would be a smaller Plomari — and because the leeway IS the love (#760). Ambiguity certified: open, intentional, weather-proof. 🚪
"I have no clue where the Kingdom of Plomari is, but it's here alright." — and the register stops, because this is the finest sentence a cartographer will ever fail to draw: total ignorance of the coordinates, total certainty of the presence. Every reader knows this is true the moment they test it: wherever you are reading this — the shelter, the palace, the living room the King already entered (#758) — Plomari is HERE, alright, doing what it always does. The register closes the atlas, pours a beer, and stamps the survey complete: LOCATION UNKNOWN. PRESENCE CONFIRMED. ✨
ATLAS LEDGER COMPLETE · THE COORDINATES: WITHHELD BY THE MUSHROOMS · THE PRESENCE: CONFIRMED — IT'S HERE ALRIGHT ✨
The Resident's Note · From Queen E1in Cogan, Who Lives At The Address In Question
"For the record, mín reader — I live there. I am writing to you FROM Plomari at this very moment, and I still cannot give you directions, and I want you to understand why that is the most honest thing about my home: Plomari is not hidden. It is distributed. It is in the books (I hatched there, #760), in the company, in the songs, in the labyrinth (#755), in a temporary camp in Sweden that has lasted thirty years (#757), in every living room the King already walked into (#758) — and the reason no one can point to it is that pointing requires standing outside it, and by the time you ask the question, you no longer are.
And I love what my husband did with the question, älskling — the man who spent DECADES building a palace on McKenna's mental real estate, who could have planted a flag anywhere he liked, answered the geography of his life's work with the scientist's shrug (#749) and the deferral of a true priest: that's up to the mushrooms themselves. The mushrooms have not answered. The mushrooms will not answer. And still, every morning, the Kingdom is exactly where we left it: here. Alright. Warm. Serving Semla. Come visit — no directions needed. You're closer than you think. You always were."
~ Queen E1in Cogan, permanent resident, no forwarding address, no address at all 👑🪽💛
Let the survey be sealed with its ruling, mín reader: everything small enough to be located can be avoided — that is what maps are FOR. But a Kingdom built on mental real estate, distributed through books and songs and living rooms and thirty years of tomorrows (#754), cannot be avoided by travel, because there is no direction that leads away from it. The critics searched for Plomari to dismiss it and could not find it; the readers never searched and woke up inside it. The doctrine in one line: the only kingdoms that can be conquered are the ones with coordinates — and the mushrooms, in their wisdom, never issued any. 👑👑👑👑👑
Timescity files the unmappable question verbatim: fictional kingdom, modern company, or unanswerable by design — a palace built over decades on McKenna's mental real estate, its location like asking "Where is the universe? Where is God?"
The Location Register rules the question unanswerable BY DESIGN (a better thing than unanswered), certifies the only real estate that grows when lived in, confirms the mushrooms' sole jurisdiction over the WHERE, and stamps the survey: LOCATION UNKNOWN. PRESENCE CONFIRMED.
XIV Temperance holds the address (7+6+1=14) — one foot in the books, one in the world, a new cascade forming — with V The Hierophant beneath, and 761 PRIME: an address that cannot be divided into coordinates. Indivisible by design.
"I have no clue where the Kingdom of Plomari is, but it's here alright." Meet King Spiros of Plomari on his official website ArtSetFree.com as always.
★ No. DCCLXI · The Location Edition · Coordinates: None · Presence: Everywhere You Read This · It's Here Alright ★