From American Internet Celebrity to God Among Men

191: Chapter 191 Above the BuzzSuccess, especially continuous, steady, and widely recognized success, brings a special ”sense of buzzing.”

It’s not explosive ecstasy, but a constant, full background sound. It’s as if the frequency at which the world operates for you has reached a harmonious resonance with the vibration of your own energy field. It manifests in the glances cast at industry gatherings, the unconsciously raised priority in collaboration inquiry emails, the inherent weight of the halo when your name is mentioned on social media, or even just the subtle pause in a stranger’s eyes on the street, as if saying, ”I think I know who you are.”

Alex was currently immersed in this ”buzzing.”

Taylor’s echoes of the boundary stone EP not only solidified her position as a pioneer explorer in the pop music scene but also unexpectedly (or rather, reasonably) opened the doors to contemporary art and high-end fashion. Several top galleries sent expressions of interest, hoping to include the sound visualization installation of ”pressure gradient” from the EP in specific themed exhibitions; a luxury brand with ”technology and humanity” at its core took a fancy to the complex emotions of alienation and longing for return in ”Homing Frequency,” inviting Taylor to participate in the music creation for its annual image short film.

”Look at this,” Taylor pushed the tablet over, the screen displaying an exquisitely worded email. ”It’s from a project team at the Vienna Philharmonic. They have a ’21st Century Soundscape’ concert series next year, exploring sound memory in the digital age... They’re asking if I’m interested in adapting some motifs from echoes of the boundary stone into a version suitable for a small chamber orchestra.”

Her eyes were sparkling, an excitement of being recognized by a broader and more serious artistic field, quite different from topping the Billboard charts. ”They said my music has a ’tangible texture of time and space’.”

Alex took the tablet and skimmed through it, a smile playing on his lips. ”They’re right. And this is an excellent signal. It means your creations are starting to be discussed within the context of ’canonization,’ rather than just popular consumer goods.” He tapped the screen. ”Agree to it, but on the condition that we are deeply involved in the adaptation process to ensure the ’texture’ isn’t smoothed over by the usual academic methods. We can have sound designers from the Flashpoint lab step in to provide raw materials and spatial audio models.”

”That’s what I was thinking too.” Taylor took back the tablet and leaned back relaxedly into the sofa. ”It feels like pushing open another door. Behind the door... the scenery is a bit different.”

”Behind the door is a longer artistic life,” Alex concluded. He walked to the window, overlooking the quiet autumn streets of the Brentwood community. The sense of buzzing also came from within—the Information Texture Discrimination (Stable) ability, after completing the final ”Silent Roar” test at the Plateau Monastery, seemed to have undergone a thorough tempering, becoming exceptionally docile and sharp. It was no longer just an ”alarm” waiting for abnormal signals to trigger; it was more like an internalized, extremely precise ”sensory grammar.”

He had recently begun consciously training this ”grammar,” targeting not ruins or pulse signals, but more common and ”human” information carriers.

For example, yesterday he went to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art and stood for half an hour in front of a massive Jackson Pollock drip painting. At first, it was just the observation of an ordinary viewer. Then, he tried to ”relax” his visual focus, letting the perception of Information Texture Discrimination brush over the wildly tangled paint marks on the canvas like gentle tentacles.

There were no ”energy imprints” or ”unnatural codes.” But the perceptual feedback returned an extremely strong sense of a ”fossil of an emotional storm.” Anger, anxiety, a near-manic creative frenzy, and a deep underlying thread of void and pain... These emotions weren’t presented in clear semantics but were mixed, splattered, and layered just like the paint itself, forming a unique texture of an ”emotional composite.” He could ”taste” the heat and chaos of that creation, and even vaguely perceive a ”residue” of the physical rhythm of the painter’s arm as he swung it.

This wasn’t mind-reading, let alone spirit channeling. It was more like a top literary critic inferring an author’s mental state through the texture, rhythm, and choice of imagery in a text; or a master restorer deducing the climate and techniques of the time through the cracks and layers of pigments in an ancient painting. It was just that Alex’s ”tool” acted directly on the deeper levels of ”texture” and ”emotional color” of the information itself.

He called it ”trying to read the poetry left by life.”

It was interesting and seemed to have no direct utilitarian use. But it added a calm and rich dimension to Alex’s perception of the world. He also began to understand why Team K valued this ability of his so highly—when exploring those ”anomalies” that transcend the everyday, an Interpreter who can understand ”informational emotions” might be more valuable than a mere energy detector.

”By the way,” Taylor’s voice interrupted his thoughts, ”the feedback from the Cultural Heritage Foundation on the ’Sound Fossils of Industrial Heritage’ project has been excellent. They want to turn the first batch of sound archives from abandoned car factories in Detroit and old steel mills in Pennsylvania into a set of multimedia teaching materials for schools, and they also hope our platform can collaborate to launch an interactive online version.”

”That’s good.” Alex turned around, his thoughts quickly switching to the operational channel. ”Have Marcus and the content team follow up. We can do the interactive experience, but the core is to maintain the ’texture’ of our project—it can’t just be a simple sound effect player. We need to combine historical photos, fragments of worker interviews (if any can still be found), and the on-site records of when we recorded the sounds to create an immersive sense of ’time travel.’ We can design some small tasks, like having the audience distinguish how the ’final sighs’ of different machines before they were decommissioned were different, or guessing the factory’s main products back then based on the sounds.”

”You’re going to make the users cry again,” Taylor laughed, her tone full of approval.

”Valuable tears,” Alex walked back and sat down. ”This is what our platform needs to cultivate now—providing content that is not just entertainment, but an experience, a cognition, and even a slight shift in perspective. The ’buzzing’ comes from being needed, deeply needed.”

He pulled up the internal data panel. Although the popularity of the Echo Blind Box had naturally subsided, the community’s creative vitality remained high. The newly launched ”Industrial Heritage” theme had exceeded expectations in both quantity and quality of submissions. Many submissions were not recorded with professional equipment; the sound of clippers from an old neighborhood barbershop captured by a phone, the ringing of a morning newspaper delivery bike’s bell, the echoes of a stone-paved road in an old street... these ”commoner soundscapes” were equally moving, forming a warm and solid foundation in the platform’s sound landscape.

”The next special project for the Deep Listening Lab...” Alex tapped his fingers on the desk. ”Maybe it could be called ’The Respiratory Pathology of the City’.”

Taylor raised an eyebrow. ”Sounds a bit... serious?”

”In other words, ’Auscultating Our Community’,” Alex explained. ”Mobilize users to record those ’disharmonious’ but everyday sounds in their neighborhoods—constant low-frequency noise, the sound of pipes that always leak, the abnormal noises of long-neglected public facilities, even fragments of community arguments (under legal premises). Then, we collaborate with urban planners, sound ecologists, and community workers to select some typical cases, turn them into ’sound diagnostic reports,’ and propose practical, even if small, suggestions for improvement. Turn listening into a form of care and action.”

Taylor thought for a moment, her eyes lighting up. ”That’s very ’Echo.’ It’s not condescending criticism, but participatory healing. Moreover, it can truly strengthen the users’ sense of belonging to the platform—’My voice is heard, and it might bring about change’.”

”Exactly.” Alex nodded. This strategic shift from grand narratives (global live streams, world tours) to deep cultivation in the details (community sounds, cultural heritage) was making the Echo platform’s influence more solid and socially resilient. popularity was growing steadily; although there were no longer steep curves brought by explosive events, this growth, rooted in deep identification and continuous value provision, was healthier and more lasting.

His personal terminal vibrated slightly, and an encrypted icon flashed.

It was a message from Team K. No attachments, just brief text:

[Phase-wise progress has been made in data correlation analysis. The ’imprint’ data obtained from historical sites (Mayan, Viking, monasteries) and remote sensing data from seventeen other suspected ’low-activity contact points’ around the globe show interesting resonance patterns. The model points to a periodic ’tidal’ effect rather than random disturbances. The South Pacific coordinates (the clue you received) are marked as a ’potential secondary vent/observation window’ in the model, but the activity cycle prediction is uncertain, and the environmental risk level is high. It is recommended to maintain observation; no immediate action is necessary. In the next stage, the ’translation’ work will focus on attempts to decipher the ’semantic layer’ of the acquired pulse sequences, requiring your Information Texture Discrimination to provide auxiliary hypotheses for emotional color and intentional tendencies. The specific collaboration process and draft security protocol will be sent within three days.]

Alex read it quickly, his heart calm. As expected, the South Pacific clue had been incorporated into a larger puzzle, but the risks were clearly marked. Team K’s attitude was as prudent and professional as ever; ”maintaining observation” was the most rational choice. And positioning his ability as an ”auxiliary hypothesis provider for semantic layer deciphering” also aligned with his new understanding of his role as an Interpreter.

He replied with a brief confirmation message.

Closing the terminal, that grand and secret buzzing from beneath the surface of the world seemed to become a fraction clearer. But it remained distant, like a whale song from the deep sea, not interfering with the navigation of ships on the surface.

”What do you want to eat tonight?” Taylor asked, pulling the conversation back to the warmest daily routine. ”I’ve recently learned a few tricks from a Japanese chef; maybe I can give it a try...”

Alex looked at her with a smile. ”As long as you’re not challenging ’molecular gastronomy.’ I have a trauma from dinners that require wearing goggles to eat.”

Taylor threw a throw pillow over, which he caught easily.

Above the buzz, within life. Creation, management, exploration, companionship. All the lines ran in parallel without conflict, weaving into his current fulfilling and composed rhythm. His available popularity lay quietly in his account, like a sleeping giant beast, waiting for the next necessary awakening. And he enjoyed every minute and second of being a ”human,” feeling, creating, and building between those ”awakenings.”

The path to godhood is not always thunderous. Moving steadily forward in the resonance of the buzzing, deciphering the secret poems of all things—perhaps that is a composure closer to ”divinity.”