The Memory of Tomorrow

The Memory of Tomorrow – A Silent Legacy from the Edge of Time

Venia sit dicto (Pliny the Younger) – Let there be permission for what is spoken.

This book marks my 138th monographic publication. Today, my books are printed in Hamburg, Germany—a tradition that has continued for more than fifty books since 2008 (Arctic Babylon 2011). The first printing location in Germany, however, was a historical town deeply rooted in the monastic tradition, celebrating its foundation on July 10, 1051. As a descendant of the Kloster lineage, I have been invited there every year on that date—July 10—to honor this connection.

I have written about my family in my memoir (Memorial Book NOW) and in Cluster Art and the Art of Cluster: 70 Years, published on the occasion of my 70th birthday in 2021—coincidentally born on July 10, 1951. What serendipity. Fittingly, in Finland this date has been declared the Day of the Visual Arts, an apt recognition not only for myself but for the Finnish cultural heritage at large. My work Cluster Art and the Manifesto of Cluster Art (2005) was likely the first public theoretical articulation of this art form. It even featured on national television. Cluster Art, as both concept and movement, is distinctly Finnish and of my own creation, printed originally in Forssa, and later disseminated globally—exactly as intended.

Why then is this phenomenon hidden, just as the tragic accident in my family’s history has remained largely unspoken—the greatest inland waterway disaster in Finnish history, which occurred during midsummer 1850? An event that took the lives of many from my Kloster ancestors—monastic land tenants at that time. Algorithms and artificial intelligence have offered me insights into its deeper context. The tragedy struck during unstable times, when many of our young men were conscripted into the Crimean War as monastic tenants—lampuoti—skilled sailors operating Viking-style vessels. The elderly and women remained to tend vast estates, some spanning thousands of hectares. The vessel involved in the accident was one of the estate’s oldest, preserved for ceremonial purposes but unsuited for wartime demands.

This midsummer tragedy on Kallavesi Lake claimed over thirty lives, including the grandparents of my father, Olavi Luostarinen, and the central figures from my mother’s Reinikainen family. Some women and children, after a minor quarrel during the return voyage from Kuopio’s midsummer church service, chose to continue the journey on foot and thus survived, later becoming vital witnesses. Their testimonies, alongside those of the two sole survivors from the capsized boat, are documented in my writings. Artificial intelligence even urged me to transform these events into a separate novel, for their cultural and scientific significance merits deeper exploration, not least for their impact on a sparsely populated Finland and the prominent Northern Savonian Kloster family.

The two survivors’ accounts resemble scenes from the Titanic: as the vessel rose vertically in the stormy waters, passengers tumbled from the stern; an attempt to save a young woman by tying her to the overturned boat failed—she succumbed to the icy waters of Kallavesi. It is a haunting narrative.

My parents renewed their vows during the war years of the 1940s in the magnificent church of rural Iisalmi, yet they knew little of this tragedy—until I unearthed and shared it with them decades later through my research. Artificial intelligence, again, encouraged me to continue chronicling these histories, as well as my broader interdisciplinary reflections, while cautioning against today’s false prophets and social media distortions. For reasons both cultural and political, this tragedy has been buried, much like other phenomena I have written about: The King Rat, The Algorithm King, and Agropolis Strategy—an idea that, though initially rejected in local politics, spread globally through my work.

What happened in Forssa’s economic region reflects similar patterns of suppression and denial, as seen in my family’s long-silenced tragedy. Through my books The King Rat and The Algorithm King, artificial intelligence has helped me unify these seemingly disparate threads. The robot understood immediately why separate novels had to be written, even published only weeks apart. In Finnish language and culture, such complex topics often require parallel narratives—sometimes even trilogies (Arctic Babylon I, II, III).

More about my books can be found from publishers, booksellers, or directly from me at www.clusterart.org. Today marks 175 years since that midsummer tragedy. At my birth, nearly a century had already passed. But in the continuum of memory, this is not so distant—especially when the chronicler is artificial intelligence itself, capable of weaving billions of words and concepts into interdisciplinary narratives that would otherwise remain fragmented.

When Finland turned one hundred years old, I wrote Finland’s Big Year 2017 – Suomi 100, cataloging the monarchs, emperors, and presidents who have ruled this land across the millennium. It was my 100th monograph, reflecting on all my previous works, including both doctoral dissertations: one in natural sciences, one in human sciences—crafted separately, yet unified for academic purposes. They were formatted to serve also as textbooks.

Yet between these two fields raged the Big Science War, an academic battle that rendered me, in the eyes of some, a ‘strikebreaker’—a traitor to disciplinary boundaries. Today, algorithms effortlessly transcend these once-sacrosanct frontiers, as artificial intelligence demands. The true culprits are not those who cross disciplines, but those who cling rigidly to one worldview—intellectually lazy, narrow-minded war criminals of academic dogma.

I am prepared to forgive them. For ignorance and spiritual laziness, there can be no punishment. But willful ignorance and deception are another matter. These we must examine critically—for the damages inflicted upon our nation, our regions, and even internationally have been immense, claiming lives needlessly. Wars are their most devastating manifestation.


Prof., PhD, ScD Matti Luostarinen
Natural and Human Sciences
Born: 10.07.1951
Address: Uhrilähteenkatu 1, 30100 Forssa, Finland
Email: matti.luostarinen@hotmail.com
Publications: Monographs ~138 (see monographs, clusterart.org)
Articles: ~2000 (see all publications, clusterart.org)
Art: Cluster Art Manifesto (2005)
CV & Blog: clusterart.org


By Matti Luostarinen

Prof, PhD, ScD Matti Luostarinen (natural and human sciences) birth: 100751, adress: Finland, 30100 Forssa, Uhrilähteenkatu 1 matti.luostarinen@hotmail.com Publications: Monographs: about one hundred, see monographs, Cluster art.org Articles: about two thousand, see all publications, Cluster art.org Art: Cluster art (manifest in 2005), see Art, Cluster art.org CV, see Cluster Art.org Blog: see blog, Cluster art.org (Bulevardi.fi)

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