Er Merry, do you have to stand on your head in the middle of the road?
Oh hi Zie. How you doing?
You'll get run over. I'm seriously worried about you.
Yes, but watch what happens. I think there's a car coming.
Oh my God. Quick Merry. Get over here. Oh God, this is insane...
Watch. Be still.
Something arrests Zie's frantic urge to go drag his friend to safety. Instead he simply observes, calmly, apparently knowing everything's under control.
The car is driving straight towards Merry. It looks like the driver hasn't spotted him. It's beyond Zie how the man behind the wheel of that 4 by 4 could fail to see brightly coloured legs sticking up into the air in the centre of the road.
Did you see?
Er, kind of, I guess so.
Well?
How did you do it?
Ah, you think I passed straight through a car, dear Zie? You attribute supernatural powers to me!
Well that's what I saw.
At one level, yes, but if we go deeper into your conscious awareness you'll find a different version of events. Shall we?
Er, yes, why not.
Let's take a few breaths, deep breaths, one, two, three... now kindly fall backwards.
?!
Trust me, let your mind go blank, release or scrutinise, i.e. observe with curiosity any fear you experience and that will do the trick.
But I'll hurt myself.
You'd imagine so, wouldn't you, in the same way you'd imagine I'd be injured by the car that apparently drove through me. Let's suspend our disbelief for a moment or two. Let's treat this as an experiment, or as a kind of meditation.
As an exercise in constructive lunacy.
What an excellent expression. Yes, indeed. Let's do just that, treating it as an exercise in constructive lunacy. On the count of three...
I was joking Merry.
No matter. The moment awaits: one... two... three...
To Zie's amazement he finds himself falling backwards, having assumed he'd never for the life of him be so dumb, and falling backwards he experiences a curious sensation in the back of his head and his neck, like he's moving in a physically real, but unfamiliar direction... a sensation that stimulates him to push on further, like the children in the Narnia tales who find the back of the wardrobe is missing, who feel an impulse to go further and see what lies at the back of, or behind the wardrobe.
Zie doesn't make it down to the ground, he's too busy exploring the z axis, a plain that seems to extend in a curling cone from "behind" his neck or somehow wedged between the two hemispheres of his brain. Sorry for the apparent confusion: these things are supposed to be either/or, are they not, but in this case Zie's sensory perception seems to be divided, running two models simultaneously.
Where am I, Merry?
Ah, there you are. I was wondering where you'd got to.
I'm not sure if or what...
Yes, that's as should be. It's a neat little corner of your conscious awareness that you've managed to ignore or overlook most of your life.
I feel big and small.
Sounds familiar, doesn't it?
You mean... Alice?
Lewis Carol of course was describing it. "Falling down the rabbit hole" is the entry point.
So what about...
Ah, there you are!
A white rabbit rushes up to Merry, apparently terribly late and stricken with remorse.
It's ok, rabbity dear, these things happen. We even have a name for it: temporal displacement, describing the way the two sides fit or knit together with a sense of stretching or compression of time and space. That's why Zie is phase shifting between hyper elongation and compression. In a moment he'll click, both sides will equalise and he'll be ready to proceed through yonder door.
Oh, and I always assumed it was my fault for those dreadful sizal convulsions.
Well, if you can stay calm dear rabbit it will definitely ease the transitional process for Zie, and remember that yonder door only ever opens at the right moment.
Yes, I know all that in theory, but the queen, she'll be furious you know.
Yes, she's bound to be, but her fury is a powerful force in our story, is it not, like the Dies Irae in Mozart's Requiem.
Oh, but I do so wish to please her, to avoid these perturbations.
Yes, don't we all, but remember when you were Zie watching me standing on my head in the middle of the road.
Do I have to? I'd rather just be rabbity.
As indeed you are, but you want to please the queen and fix the time displacement anomaly, don't you?
Yes, of course I do.
Then run with the hares for a moment and see what you see...
The white rabbit, deep in uffish thought, sees himself seeing Merry standing upside down on a road, feels Zie's anxiety as the car approaches, wants to leap into the road to prevent calamity, yet suddenly bursts into body shaking chortling, is all but split asunder by the huge release of Jabberwocky tension, the enormous static build up of charge where the competing narratives, the competing versions of reality don't quite fit, don't quite mesh, fail to intercognate, and rub together vorpally, driving the frumious Bandersnatch shaft-belt of crackling passions and fears, separating the two tales in opposing bands of perception and cognitive dissonance.
White Rabbit wipes the tears from his eyes as he sees the Mad Hatter apparently standing on his head as a car mystifyingly drives straight through, but now that he's experiencing the frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! now that the Jabberwock is dead, everything falls neatly into place: Zie finds himself standing alongside a door that a moment ago was too small to pass through or too big. Everything floods back into place: the Mad Hatter's time frozen tea party, the grinning Cheshire cat and of course White Rabbit leading the way. Suddenly Zie observes Merry standing contrarywise, at the very storygates of perception, where the three axes of mind, matter and myth meet.
Ah, there you are! Merry exclaims, in what can only be described as deja vu-fully, except this time Merry is a pipe-smoking caterpillar sitting atop an enormous mushroom.
Actually, it isn't necessarily enormous, the caterpillar explains, appearances can be deceptive. But now that you're here, why don't you...
Another perturbation in the field of perception and cognition and Zie suddenly remembers how he fell backwards in order to see how Merry was able to apparently dematerialise...
You mean these stories are actually real?
Well yes, of course they're real, otherwise no one would bother to read 'em or watch 'em.
Oh! I always imagined...
Yes, that, along with four and twenty blackbirds was baked into the pie from the outset.
But why?
Along with your why's, where's, what, when and how's, all cunningly masquerading as innocent questions designed to attain answers, but in fact serving to do the very opposite, to feed the Jabberwock of temporal dislocation, perceptual division and cognitive dissonance. So now, if you're ready, isn't it about time you brought the fractals back together?
But there are two many, I couldn't possibly...
True, but I know someone who can.
You do?
Naturally.
Who?
Whoever.
What do you mean, Merry?
Whoever's holding the other end of zed or zee.
You mean that ticklish sensation I felt behind my neck, between my head.
I mean whoever's reading this, you know who you are, you know exactly what this means and how it works... There, Zie, we're good to go, the silent reader has felt the gentle ticklish tulgey urgings, the promptings of zed equals zee...
Zero equals one...
One... two... three... This time as they fall backwards they feel the z axis extending back/ inwards neurally to first one reader's mind, then another, another, an other... until the whole human network of mind is now integrated, actively holding the field.
You see! Once you've discharged the Jabberwock nothing can stand in the way of complete reunity.
Oh my! Oh... wow! It feels wonderful to be reconnected.
The irony being it was only ever a back flip away.
You're kidding. Insane.
Apparently not. No more insane than imagining matter, those material forms we defer to so obsequiously, could possibly cause us harm.
But they do, don't they? People die when struck by bullets, trains...
Cars, ballons...
No Merry, not ballons!
You see, you too accept limitations of matter, but no, to address your perfectly reasonable yet utterly false assumption, they don't.
They don't what?
-- die when struck by material objects. You're never actually struck by matter, because each and every object is encased in its own particularity, or peculiarity of spacey-timeness. The axes appear to cross two dimensionally, it looks like they make contact, but they never in factually meet. Only when you allow rational assumptions to get the better of you, mistaking perception for reality, is the 3D bridge complete... only then is matter weaponised.
Oh
Indeed.
Then what in fact causes physical damage, if not matter colliding?
Haven't you guessed?
Er... I could try falling backwards again.
Or you could pause a moment uffishly, in thought.
Oh!... You mean "the claws that catch and jaws that bite", that Jabberwock is what makes things matter, that deals the fatal blow? But how, I wonder.
How indeed is matter weaponised, if not by fear.
Fear of what?
Of falling; of failing; of losing the plot totally.
Nothing more?
What more can there be? Things are only ever as real as the fear underpinning them: fear of nothing being what it seems, and fear of having to finally confront Jabberwock, our deeeply disturbing yet in no way malevolent temporal dislocation. Fear, only fear, is what makes things matter, keeps us as minions in a tale full of sound and fury... signifying nothing.
But people can't just step in front of a train, that would be suicide.
No, but they can choose to know themselves, to face their fear no matter what. That way is guaranteed to bring things to a head, to reveal the z axis concealed behind/ within. Then it's time to go hunting Jabberwock... to reconnect to story by shorting the circuit as you just did. It's time to story Zie... What's it going to be -- a car, a train, a...
No Merry, I need to find Alice first. She's waiting for me, I think I know where.
For a moment it looks almost as though Merry is disappointed, jealous... but in a flash he starts dancing with barely controllable excitement -- oh frabjous day! Calloo! Callay! He chortles in his joy, beetling buzzily, as Zie allows the neural network of human mind to brush aside every objection of spacey-timeness hitherto interposed between himself and Alice, his storified heroine, as he powers up to befly back into the zed cone's twin vortices of neither here nor there-ness
one... two... three...
Oh hi Zie. How you doing?
You'll get run over. I'm seriously worried about you.
Yes, but watch what happens. I think there's a car coming.
Oh my God. Quick Merry. Get over here. Oh God, this is insane...
Watch. Be still.
Something arrests Zie's frantic urge to go drag his friend to safety. Instead he simply observes, calmly, apparently knowing everything's under control.
The car is driving straight towards Merry. It looks like the driver hasn't spotted him. It's beyond Zie how the man behind the wheel of that 4 by 4 could fail to see brightly coloured legs sticking up into the air in the centre of the road.
Did you see?
Er, kind of, I guess so.
Well?
How did you do it?
Ah, you think I passed straight through a car, dear Zie? You attribute supernatural powers to me!
Well that's what I saw.
At one level, yes, but if we go deeper into your conscious awareness you'll find a different version of events. Shall we?
Er, yes, why not.
Let's take a few breaths, deep breaths, one, two, three... now kindly fall backwards.
?!
Trust me, let your mind go blank, release or scrutinise, i.e. observe with curiosity any fear you experience and that will do the trick.
But I'll hurt myself.
You'd imagine so, wouldn't you, in the same way you'd imagine I'd be injured by the car that apparently drove through me. Let's suspend our disbelief for a moment or two. Let's treat this as an experiment, or as a kind of meditation.
As an exercise in constructive lunacy.
What an excellent expression. Yes, indeed. Let's do just that, treating it as an exercise in constructive lunacy. On the count of three...
I was joking Merry.
No matter. The moment awaits: one... two... three...
To Zie's amazement he finds himself falling backwards, having assumed he'd never for the life of him be so dumb, and falling backwards he experiences a curious sensation in the back of his head and his neck, like he's moving in a physically real, but unfamiliar direction... a sensation that stimulates him to push on further, like the children in the Narnia tales who find the back of the wardrobe is missing, who feel an impulse to go further and see what lies at the back of, or behind the wardrobe.
Zie doesn't make it down to the ground, he's too busy exploring the z axis, a plain that seems to extend in a curling cone from "behind" his neck or somehow wedged between the two hemispheres of his brain. Sorry for the apparent confusion: these things are supposed to be either/or, are they not, but in this case Zie's sensory perception seems to be divided, running two models simultaneously.
Where am I, Merry?
Ah, there you are. I was wondering where you'd got to.
I'm not sure if or what...
Yes, that's as should be. It's a neat little corner of your conscious awareness that you've managed to ignore or overlook most of your life.
I feel big and small.
Sounds familiar, doesn't it?
You mean... Alice?
Lewis Carol of course was describing it. "Falling down the rabbit hole" is the entry point.
So what about...
Ah, there you are!
A white rabbit rushes up to Merry, apparently terribly late and stricken with remorse.
It's ok, rabbity dear, these things happen. We even have a name for it: temporal displacement, describing the way the two sides fit or knit together with a sense of stretching or compression of time and space. That's why Zie is phase shifting between hyper elongation and compression. In a moment he'll click, both sides will equalise and he'll be ready to proceed through yonder door.
Oh, and I always assumed it was my fault for those dreadful sizal convulsions.
Well, if you can stay calm dear rabbit it will definitely ease the transitional process for Zie, and remember that yonder door only ever opens at the right moment.
Yes, I know all that in theory, but the queen, she'll be furious you know.
Yes, she's bound to be, but her fury is a powerful force in our story, is it not, like the Dies Irae in Mozart's Requiem.
Oh, but I do so wish to please her, to avoid these perturbations.
Yes, don't we all, but remember when you were Zie watching me standing on my head in the middle of the road.
Do I have to? I'd rather just be rabbity.
As indeed you are, but you want to please the queen and fix the time displacement anomaly, don't you?
Yes, of course I do.
Then run with the hares for a moment and see what you see...
The white rabbit, deep in uffish thought, sees himself seeing Merry standing upside down on a road, feels Zie's anxiety as the car approaches, wants to leap into the road to prevent calamity, yet suddenly bursts into body shaking chortling, is all but split asunder by the huge release of Jabberwocky tension, the enormous static build up of charge where the competing narratives, the competing versions of reality don't quite fit, don't quite mesh, fail to intercognate, and rub together vorpally, driving the frumious Bandersnatch shaft-belt of crackling passions and fears, separating the two tales in opposing bands of perception and cognitive dissonance.
White Rabbit wipes the tears from his eyes as he sees the Mad Hatter apparently standing on his head as a car mystifyingly drives straight through, but now that he's experiencing the frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! now that the Jabberwock is dead, everything falls neatly into place: Zie finds himself standing alongside a door that a moment ago was too small to pass through or too big. Everything floods back into place: the Mad Hatter's time frozen tea party, the grinning Cheshire cat and of course White Rabbit leading the way. Suddenly Zie observes Merry standing contrarywise, at the very storygates of perception, where the three axes of mind, matter and myth meet.
Ah, there you are! Merry exclaims, in what can only be described as deja vu-fully, except this time Merry is a pipe-smoking caterpillar sitting atop an enormous mushroom.
Actually, it isn't necessarily enormous, the caterpillar explains, appearances can be deceptive. But now that you're here, why don't you...
Another perturbation in the field of perception and cognition and Zie suddenly remembers how he fell backwards in order to see how Merry was able to apparently dematerialise...
You mean these stories are actually real?
Well yes, of course they're real, otherwise no one would bother to read 'em or watch 'em.
Oh! I always imagined...
Yes, that, along with four and twenty blackbirds was baked into the pie from the outset.
But why?
Along with your why's, where's, what, when and how's, all cunningly masquerading as innocent questions designed to attain answers, but in fact serving to do the very opposite, to feed the Jabberwock of temporal dislocation, perceptual division and cognitive dissonance. So now, if you're ready, isn't it about time you brought the fractals back together?
But there are two many, I couldn't possibly...
True, but I know someone who can.
You do?
Naturally.
Who?
Whoever.
What do you mean, Merry?
Whoever's holding the other end of zed or zee.
You mean that ticklish sensation I felt behind my neck, between my head.
I mean whoever's reading this, you know who you are, you know exactly what this means and how it works... There, Zie, we're good to go, the silent reader has felt the gentle ticklish tulgey urgings, the promptings of zed equals zee...
Zero equals one...
One... two... three... This time as they fall backwards they feel the z axis extending back/ inwards neurally to first one reader's mind, then another, another, an other... until the whole human network of mind is now integrated, actively holding the field.
You see! Once you've discharged the Jabberwock nothing can stand in the way of complete reunity.
Oh my! Oh... wow! It feels wonderful to be reconnected.
The irony being it was only ever a back flip away.
You're kidding. Insane.
Apparently not. No more insane than imagining matter, those material forms we defer to so obsequiously, could possibly cause us harm.
But they do, don't they? People die when struck by bullets, trains...
Cars, ballons...
No Merry, not ballons!
You see, you too accept limitations of matter, but no, to address your perfectly reasonable yet utterly false assumption, they don't.
They don't what?
-- die when struck by material objects. You're never actually struck by matter, because each and every object is encased in its own particularity, or peculiarity of spacey-timeness. The axes appear to cross two dimensionally, it looks like they make contact, but they never in factually meet. Only when you allow rational assumptions to get the better of you, mistaking perception for reality, is the 3D bridge complete... only then is matter weaponised.
Oh
Indeed.
Then what in fact causes physical damage, if not matter colliding?
Haven't you guessed?
Er... I could try falling backwards again.
Or you could pause a moment uffishly, in thought.
Oh!... You mean "the claws that catch and jaws that bite", that Jabberwock is what makes things matter, that deals the fatal blow? But how, I wonder.
How indeed is matter weaponised, if not by fear.
Fear of what?
Of falling; of failing; of losing the plot totally.
Nothing more?
What more can there be? Things are only ever as real as the fear underpinning them: fear of nothing being what it seems, and fear of having to finally confront Jabberwock, our deeeply disturbing yet in no way malevolent temporal dislocation. Fear, only fear, is what makes things matter, keeps us as minions in a tale full of sound and fury... signifying nothing.
But people can't just step in front of a train, that would be suicide.
No, but they can choose to know themselves, to face their fear no matter what. That way is guaranteed to bring things to a head, to reveal the z axis concealed behind/ within. Then it's time to go hunting Jabberwock... to reconnect to story by shorting the circuit as you just did. It's time to story Zie... What's it going to be -- a car, a train, a...
No Merry, I need to find Alice first. She's waiting for me, I think I know where.
For a moment it looks almost as though Merry is disappointed, jealous... but in a flash he starts dancing with barely controllable excitement -- oh frabjous day! Calloo! Callay! He chortles in his joy, beetling buzzily, as Zie allows the neural network of human mind to brush aside every objection of spacey-timeness hitherto interposed between himself and Alice, his storified heroine, as he powers up to befly back into the zed cone's twin vortices of neither here nor there-ness
one... two... three...
Credits to
In-fin-ity
No comments:
Post a Comment