Logic sometimes makes monsters.

I always remember The Mist, that old film.The monsters didn’t come from distant galaxies — they emerged from the fog: familiar, blurred, unpredictable.That image stuck with me: fear itself isn’t terrifying, but once you realize rules can collapse, anything becomes possible.
In PolyPaths, most plants are born within a stable system:node density, leaf pattern logic, branch length, color distribution—together they form a predictable world.But I always embed a glitch, a mutation, a logical detour—like this line of code:

let number=random(0, 1) > 0.1 ? random(2, 5) : random(10, 20);

90% of plants grow 2 to 5 branches.But in that rare 10%, some explode with 10–20 offshoots.They flicker out of the algorithm like monsters in the mist—familiar yet unexplainable.I call them miracle effects: aesthetic ruptures born from logical anomalies.They’re not bugs. They’re seeds of surprise.
Rarity is rhythm

This isn’t randomness for randomness’s sake.It’s narrative by probability—plotlines buried in numbers.Some vines only appear on sparse plants. Some flowers randomly grow oversized, like corrupted signals or memories gone wild.At the highest points, you might find clusters of whorled leaves or a burst of impossible blooms.Each one is a system-approved anomaly, not a mistake.
Not symmetry—rhythm

Since Chaos Research, I’ve asked: what if generative art doesn’t simulate nature, but simulates the unexpected rhythms within it?Rhythm isn’t repetition—it’s the shock of exception.
You think everything’s following the rules… then a plant mutates.It flips, it flares, it blooms too much or in the wrong place.It might be nothing.Or it might be a story.

There’s a phrase I love:Logic sometimes makes monsters.The more stable your forest of logic, the more room you make for that one impossible plant.The monster in the mist doesn’t always emerge from chaos—it can be born from order itself.My role isn’t to control it. Just to leave a door open for it to appear.

Will it show up?
I don’t know.
But I always leave it the chance.

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第四篇｜常態中的奇觀：霧裡的怪獸

Logic sometimes makes monsters.

我一直記得那部電影，《迷霧驚魂》。
怪獸並不來自遙遠星域，而是從迷霧中浮現——熟悉、模糊，又無法預測。這樣的想像在我童年裡留下一個印記：恐懼本身沒什麼，但如果你知道「規則會崩潰」，那就什麼都有可能發生。

在《植徑集》裡，大多數植物都在一套穩定的秩序中誕生。節點密度、葉序邏輯、色彩分佈、枝條長度……這些「常態」構成了一個可以被預期的世界觀。但我總會在某些地方埋下一個分岔，一個錯位，一個不合理的邏輯岔路，例如像這樣的程式碼：

let number=random(0, 1) > 0.1 ? random(2, 5) : random(10, 20);

90% 的植物只會長出 2 到 5 枝，但那 10% 裡，有些會突然爆出 10 到 20個分枝，像霧中閃現的怪獸，既熟悉，又無法解釋。我稱它們為奇蹟效應，也是一種邏輯異變的美學。這些不是錯誤，而是伏筆。因為你永遠無法只靠預期，捕捉真正的生命感。

稀有性，是一種節奏設計

這不是單純的隨機。這是機率敘事，是數據裡的情節安排。有些藤蔓，只在幾乎無分岔的細小植物上生成，它們不是主角，而是某種附生的延伸。有些花朵，會在極低機率下異常放大，像是一個失控的訊號，或一場突變的記憶。有時植物的最高點，會是一叢特殊的莖頂，也許是燦爛的花朵，更大的機會是叢生或輪生葉。這些看似偶然的生成結果，都是被系統允許的「怪物」。我只是把這些機率放進去，剩下的，交給時間、演算與觀看者的選擇。

不是平均，而是節奏

從 Chaos Research 開始，我就在思考：生成不是為了還原自然，而是為了設計一種「非預期的節奏」。這節奏，不來自對稱與重複，反而來自偶爾發生的錯亂與爆發。你以為一切都在軌道上，下一秒卻有一株植物失控生長、突然翻轉、突變。它可能什麼都不是，但就是比其他植物更像「一段劇情」。這讓我想到一句話：

Logic sometimes makes monsters.

越是穩定的邏輯，越能容納極端的例外。當你建立了一整座森林的秩序，那株奇異的植物，才有可能出現。霧裡的怪獸不一定來自混沌，它也可能是秩序自己長出來的異形。我做的，不是控制它出現，而是留下一個可以讓它現身的機率口。

它會不會出現？我不知道。但我永遠給它一個發生的機會。