But if I’m not mistaken, shouldn’t matter and anti-matter cancel out when they meet?
Yep – they should do – in the same way a credit and a debit cancel out when you reconcile the two.
Yes – but there’s a big difference where matter’s concerned.
Yes? What’s that?
Well matter is physical – it’s tangible, whereas the credit and debit on the bank ledger are simply abstract numbers.
Oh Travis – you do tie yourself in knots with these arbitrary distinctions.
I do?
Indubitably.
But...
As long as you’re taking sides then yes, abstracts are abstract and physicals are physical, but the moment you accept the simple truth – that it’s a positively zero sum game...
Well that’s an oxymoron if ever I heard one. How can it be a positively zero sum game? Either it’s zero sum or it isn’t.
True – that’s the mind at work levelling the hill and the hollow to give a flat non-descriptitude, but there seems to be a game changing factor at work that tips the balance one way, into what we describe as positivity.
Oh yes? Could you enlighten me? I do so like straws to clutch at.
You.
Huh?
You.
Me what? How can I be a game changing factor?
Well, am I mistaken in assuming you’re alive?
No, obviously I’m alive. What’s special about that? How can you declare me being alive a "game changing factor" when everyone’s alive?
Travis, don’t get all het up about everyone when you have little or no way of knowing for sure whether they’re actually alive or not. It’s hard enough to answer for yourself with any degree of accuracy.
It is? I’d have thought it’s blindingly obvious that I’m alive, along with approximately 7 billion other people.
Yes, but as we’ve already determined, thinking things affects them, changes them, moves every single piece to a different position on the quantum chessboard, so I’d ask you to stop making assumptions, and start considering instead to what extent you’ve really tested the basis of your own existence, and I’m going to suggest that you, like nearly everyone else, have been remiss, have taken for granted what is far from proven, certain or even factually accurate. I don’t blame you for this, but nor do I condone such sloppy science.
Science? I think there must be some kind of misunderstanding Psi. I simply can’t see how you can seriously suggest I might not be alive. What, if not alive, would I be?
I have no idea... You could be a part of a virtual reality program, a hologram, or a human-seeming entity that simply isn’t actually human. I don’t know and it’s not my business to speculate, but one thing I know with absolute certainty is that if you’re actually alive, as I suspect you are, that adds something to nothing, don’t ask me how. Even though the pieces on the chessboard should add to zero, in fact there’s a twist, a kink, an addition, which may be something as insubstantial as uncertainty, but which is more than sufficient to make zero positive, despite the fact that materially, substantially it hasn’t changed.
Well thanks for trying Psi, but that explanation leaves me none the wiser.
Actually, it wasn’t meant to. You can never explain a person wiser. They have to make their own way. Each has to figure out the basics for himself.
Then why did you bother telling me all this, if such information cannot be assimilated?
Not out of the kindness of my heart, I assure you. Look Travis, I’ll tell you a secret.
Yes?
...
Well?
I’ve...
Yes?
never assumed you’re real. I don’t, I cannot know more than best approximations based on five senses, on intuition and factor x.
Er, what’s factor x?
That’s the third one – there’s always another one you’ve not yet considered which could be the most important, but as soon as you bring it into consideration the thought process shifts everything around and so you’ll never pin down factor x unless you stop trying to what it, stop hunting it so obviously, and start using a more sophisticated, a more realistic approach.
Such as?
Such as accepting and engaging both sides of zero simultaneously, such as accepting the unthinkable – that you are the missing link, you are the unpindownable factor which apparates something from nothing, no matter how intangible things in fact may be, that you are the proof that nought is more than the maths allows, more than rational mind can comprehend, because somehow you...
What?
Listen to it...
What?
... just listen
To nothing?
To the muchness of nought
Muchness?
of pregnant silence...
now move
Move?
like me
I’m not going to dance around like a lunatic! What do you take me for?
nothing, i take you for nought
Bloody lunacy!
... let it flow... like so... you know the only thing coming between your self and in-finity is
What?
your capital-I, your sense of self-importance, your Controller in chief, Who oversees that you remain within the bounds of things being things, who keeps you, distracts you, carrot and sticks you not to engage factor x, not to see the colossal importance of your position in the order of things, keeps you focussed on an endless stream of cumbrous things in order to...
What?
What do you think?
I don’t think. I have no idea whatsoever.
Excellent, now move with me and see if you can catch a glimpse of your master.
My what?! You’re kidding, right?
Do i look like it?
No, but...
Move, while you still have him on the run. Your shadow is tremmering. Your puppet master is feeling gauche and awkward because he has uncomfortably found himself nakedly under the spotlight of your twin-sighted conscious-awareness. His only desire right now is to slip back into the shadows of your unconsciousness, back into the cosy little hollow of your mind’s underside, where he’s protected by those doubts, fears and insecurities you’d rather not face, confront or contemplate. So dance and hold him spellbound a moment longer in the light -- confound him with not-logic, with not doing what is normal, not what is expected of you, entrance him with a snakey dance and the shadow in him will be unable to look away, he’ll reveal himself, helpless to combat your non-sense, your weird, your little theatre of strange, and then, only then you’ll know if i speak truth, if...
No, I’m scared!
of course he is, but he’s not you. let the fear be a part of your dance. let your sinewy movements weave through, around the fear, and you’ll find yourself enjoying the feeling of riding it, driving it, guiding it back into its natural channel, back into its proper grazing lands, back into its noughtification, which is not the same as extermination or elimination, which is a vital test and proof of whether you're actually human, or not.
I... I do... I feel it moving, sliding back into place, stretching, probing, slithering, winding, curling back into the slots and niches where it best belongs and...
nought?
is big, is vibrant, is deep, is strong, is...
dot, dot, dot... first you laugh it off as ridiculous, then you dive into fear or loathing, eventually you learn to move through, move across the divide that is nought, that is the in-finity we’ve been hiding “inside” all along, and hey presto, your world, your reality is no longer contained by space or time... another factor has entered the reckoning, we’re calling it factor x today, but don’t get your hopes up, you’re not going to be able to make it comfy or cosy with a nice, neat name -- it’s gonna keep on slipping from your mental grasp, and each time you find yourself staring what seems like mind-bending insanity in the face, instead of whining, instead of insisting on your right to be contained within a 3dness of comfortably finite space-time, you're gonna start dancing, slipping along the edge, the axis, the hem of what is positively not, you’re gonna feel it respond as you engage your puppet master in a dance of decision, to decide whether or not you deserve to be alive, whether or not you’re fit to be human.
And if I choose to hide? If I can’t handle the void?
Then you stay where you are right now.
But where? Where am I now?
In it. A part of it, incubating within its contrived, controlled what I am field – a derivative, a thing version of the light, the wonder, the power, the all that i be, all that i is, all that i am... You get to choose Travis, either to be, or not to be, positively. If you’re convinced that this here is the real McCoy, then rest assured, i should hardly be able to collapse its field lines merely by dancing irrationally, should i?
Oh no... wait Psi... I'm er... aaaaaaaaaargh
Oops! Now where did he go?
Yep – they should do – in the same way a credit and a debit cancel out when you reconcile the two.
Yes – but there’s a big difference where matter’s concerned.
Yes? What’s that?
Well matter is physical – it’s tangible, whereas the credit and debit on the bank ledger are simply abstract numbers.
Oh Travis – you do tie yourself in knots with these arbitrary distinctions.
I do?
Indubitably.
But...
As long as you’re taking sides then yes, abstracts are abstract and physicals are physical, but the moment you accept the simple truth – that it’s a positively zero sum game...
Well that’s an oxymoron if ever I heard one. How can it be a positively zero sum game? Either it’s zero sum or it isn’t.
True – that’s the mind at work levelling the hill and the hollow to give a flat non-descriptitude, but there seems to be a game changing factor at work that tips the balance one way, into what we describe as positivity.
Oh yes? Could you enlighten me? I do so like straws to clutch at.
You.
Huh?
You.
Me what? How can I be a game changing factor?
Well, am I mistaken in assuming you’re alive?
No, obviously I’m alive. What’s special about that? How can you declare me being alive a "game changing factor" when everyone’s alive?
Travis, don’t get all het up about everyone when you have little or no way of knowing for sure whether they’re actually alive or not. It’s hard enough to answer for yourself with any degree of accuracy.
It is? I’d have thought it’s blindingly obvious that I’m alive, along with approximately 7 billion other people.
Yes, but as we’ve already determined, thinking things affects them, changes them, moves every single piece to a different position on the quantum chessboard, so I’d ask you to stop making assumptions, and start considering instead to what extent you’ve really tested the basis of your own existence, and I’m going to suggest that you, like nearly everyone else, have been remiss, have taken for granted what is far from proven, certain or even factually accurate. I don’t blame you for this, but nor do I condone such sloppy science.
Science? I think there must be some kind of misunderstanding Psi. I simply can’t see how you can seriously suggest I might not be alive. What, if not alive, would I be?
I have no idea... You could be a part of a virtual reality program, a hologram, or a human-seeming entity that simply isn’t actually human. I don’t know and it’s not my business to speculate, but one thing I know with absolute certainty is that if you’re actually alive, as I suspect you are, that adds something to nothing, don’t ask me how. Even though the pieces on the chessboard should add to zero, in fact there’s a twist, a kink, an addition, which may be something as insubstantial as uncertainty, but which is more than sufficient to make zero positive, despite the fact that materially, substantially it hasn’t changed.
Well thanks for trying Psi, but that explanation leaves me none the wiser.
Actually, it wasn’t meant to. You can never explain a person wiser. They have to make their own way. Each has to figure out the basics for himself.
Then why did you bother telling me all this, if such information cannot be assimilated?
Not out of the kindness of my heart, I assure you. Look Travis, I’ll tell you a secret.
Yes?
...
Well?
I’ve...
Yes?
never assumed you’re real. I don’t, I cannot know more than best approximations based on five senses, on intuition and factor x.
Er, what’s factor x?
That’s the third one – there’s always another one you’ve not yet considered which could be the most important, but as soon as you bring it into consideration the thought process shifts everything around and so you’ll never pin down factor x unless you stop trying to what it, stop hunting it so obviously, and start using a more sophisticated, a more realistic approach.
Such as?
Such as accepting and engaging both sides of zero simultaneously, such as accepting the unthinkable – that you are the missing link, you are the unpindownable factor which apparates something from nothing, no matter how intangible things in fact may be, that you are the proof that nought is more than the maths allows, more than rational mind can comprehend, because somehow you...
What?
Listen to it...
What?
... just listen
To nothing?
To the muchness of nought
Muchness?
of pregnant silence...
now move
Move?
like me
I’m not going to dance around like a lunatic! What do you take me for?
nothing, i take you for nought
Bloody lunacy!
... let it flow... like so... you know the only thing coming between your self and in-finity is
What?
your capital-I, your sense of self-importance, your Controller in chief, Who oversees that you remain within the bounds of things being things, who keeps you, distracts you, carrot and sticks you not to engage factor x, not to see the colossal importance of your position in the order of things, keeps you focussed on an endless stream of cumbrous things in order to...
What?
What do you think?
I don’t think. I have no idea whatsoever.
Excellent, now move with me and see if you can catch a glimpse of your master.
My what?! You’re kidding, right?
Do i look like it?
No, but...
Move, while you still have him on the run. Your shadow is tremmering. Your puppet master is feeling gauche and awkward because he has uncomfortably found himself nakedly under the spotlight of your twin-sighted conscious-awareness. His only desire right now is to slip back into the shadows of your unconsciousness, back into the cosy little hollow of your mind’s underside, where he’s protected by those doubts, fears and insecurities you’d rather not face, confront or contemplate. So dance and hold him spellbound a moment longer in the light -- confound him with not-logic, with not doing what is normal, not what is expected of you, entrance him with a snakey dance and the shadow in him will be unable to look away, he’ll reveal himself, helpless to combat your non-sense, your weird, your little theatre of strange, and then, only then you’ll know if i speak truth, if...
No, I’m scared!
of course he is, but he’s not you. let the fear be a part of your dance. let your sinewy movements weave through, around the fear, and you’ll find yourself enjoying the feeling of riding it, driving it, guiding it back into its natural channel, back into its proper grazing lands, back into its noughtification, which is not the same as extermination or elimination, which is a vital test and proof of whether you're actually human, or not.
I... I do... I feel it moving, sliding back into place, stretching, probing, slithering, winding, curling back into the slots and niches where it best belongs and...
nought?
is big, is vibrant, is deep, is strong, is...
dot, dot, dot... first you laugh it off as ridiculous, then you dive into fear or loathing, eventually you learn to move through, move across the divide that is nought, that is the in-finity we’ve been hiding “inside” all along, and hey presto, your world, your reality is no longer contained by space or time... another factor has entered the reckoning, we’re calling it factor x today, but don’t get your hopes up, you’re not going to be able to make it comfy or cosy with a nice, neat name -- it’s gonna keep on slipping from your mental grasp, and each time you find yourself staring what seems like mind-bending insanity in the face, instead of whining, instead of insisting on your right to be contained within a 3dness of comfortably finite space-time, you're gonna start dancing, slipping along the edge, the axis, the hem of what is positively not, you’re gonna feel it respond as you engage your puppet master in a dance of decision, to decide whether or not you deserve to be alive, whether or not you’re fit to be human.
And if I choose to hide? If I can’t handle the void?
Then you stay where you are right now.
But where? Where am I now?
In it. A part of it, incubating within its contrived, controlled what I am field – a derivative, a thing version of the light, the wonder, the power, the all that i be, all that i is, all that i am... You get to choose Travis, either to be, or not to be, positively. If you’re convinced that this here is the real McCoy, then rest assured, i should hardly be able to collapse its field lines merely by dancing irrationally, should i?
Oh no... wait Psi... I'm er... aaaaaaaaaargh
Oops! Now where did he go?
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