Sunday, November 21, 2021

inertial frames - shout out to albert meinstein

 

Let me give an example.

 

Oh no, here we go.

 

I’m immortal, aren’t I, so if instead of hanging on like grim death when the bridge starts collapsing beneath me – instead – I allow myself to go into maximum experience of nowness – MEN for short.

 

MEN – how er…

 

Convenient – isn’t it?

 

If you say so.

 

So, instead of freaking out or panicking, as folk are wont – I do the opposite – for a glorious moment or two I’m deliciously disconnected from things – a floating downwards part of the field – and on my way to certain death and destruction as I hurtle towards the ground or the ground hurtles towards me – I recollect that I seem to have a much better, much more meaningful connection with matter and all that is in a completely different frame of reference – which suddenly attracts my attention.

 


Why?

 

Because I was never really committed to this or any other inertial frame.

 

Oh – so now it’s an “inertial frame” is it?

 

Why not. These are merely names for the nowness and hereness I was temporarily a part of.

 

O… K…

 

I never truly identified with it. And falling towards my immanent death and destruction was the catalyst needed to help me shift into a better configuration of nowness and hereness – one in which I’m better centred, better grounded in a physical reality that seems to have my body more or less in equilibrium.

 

You mean – one in which you’re not falling.

 

Precisely.

 

And er…

 

Yes?

 

How many times have you made these unexpected transitions to another reality?

 

Another frame – you mean? It’s all reality, you know, wherever you are.

 

O…K…

 

How many times?

 

I’ve not been counting.

 

More than once? A dozen? A hundred?

 

Like I said – I’ve not been counting, but a ball park figure might be 483.

 

483 times you’ve basically dematerialised and found yourself in another reality?!

 

Well, I don’t really consider it another reality.

 

No?

 

It’s all real ity gritty – you know.

 

Not to the person who just saw you dematerialise as you hurtled towards the ground.

 

But did he?

 

Well, what’s he supposed to see?

 

It’s difficult to say.

 

It is?

 

Well yes – you see if you’re still glued to your inertial frame – you physically can’t jump off the sinking ship and land on another one – can you?

 

Yes, I guess you’re right.

 

You go down with it.

 

And?

 

And so, your mind finds it very hard to see or recognise anything that contradicts your paradigm.

 

My what?

 

Your paradigm – your frame-based version of reality.

 

So what? It just blacks out – you’re saying?

 

Kind of, yes.

 

How can it?

 

It just un-remembers or filters anything it observes that contradicts the basic rules of causality – or plain-causality I should say.

 


Plain causality.

 

Yep.

 

Whereby we’re only able to see things occurring in a causal plain?

 

Yep. Shocking isn’t it.

 

Hard to believe.

 

The alternative would be sudden and catastrophic disruption in your causal chain – a sudden awareness of another dimension connecting one inertial frame with another.

 

Ah.

 

Exactly.

 

So I just have to un-remember anything untoward.

 

Precisely.

 

Like people falling and disappearing a moment before impact.

 

Yep.

 

But how – I can’t just unsee what I’ve seen.

 

You’d be surprised.

 

How?

 

Well, let’s hypothesise that your highly vaunted rational mind is linked to the inertial frame you’re on, and excludes all reference to, or awareness of, others – in order to keep you hard at it – pick picking away with your pickaxe at the coal face of causal dynamics, processing and generating data to constantly revalidate the frame you’re part of.

 

Whereas you just happen to be able to put down your pick and unceremoniously leap between plains.

 

Yep. More or less.

 

Ridiculous.

 

Ask yourself then how I do this?

 

Do what? Oh. He’s gone. Wait a second… Who’s gone. Bizarre – I must have been imagining him telling me he was going to… no… my mind is playing tricks on me – there was no one here at all – the entire conversation was a figment of my imagination – come to mention it – what conversation – I no longer remember what we… I imagined I was discussing. Zilch.

 

You see?

 

Huh? You? What are you doing here – er – as déjà vu expands into full recognition of… 


You’re now pushing against it – aren’t you.

 

Yes, I suppose I am.

 

You suppose? Avoid looking at anything around you directly – that gives too much power to the central framer – half-glances, side-glances are best – see what’s happening around you as you push against the awareness that your mind is frame-bound – that you’re not currently running universal awareness protocols.

 

Mitch tries his utmost to avoid staring – it’s tough – very tough – for as long as he’s pushing against the awareness of something messing with his mind – the pixilation outside his main cone of vision is incredibly crude – blocks – big ones – that are clearly failing to come close to meeting a benchmark standard of empirical realism.

 

Good. You see. Now quit pushing. Take a deep breath. Think about your chickens, your shoes, the hole in your roof that needs fixing… what happens?

 

Incredible. The pixilation is suddenly unnoticeable. 100% normalcy. Like it needed a helping hand.

 

Correct. You’re feeding the system. You’re part of it. A validator node.

 

I am?

 

Yep. A machine as much as a human simply being – processing as much as you generate content – or more. A symbiotic or possibly, eventually, a parasitic relationship. You have to pay a pound of flesh for the privilege of participating in the reality of REALITY.net  Failure to do so – and it hasn’t the energy, the resources to be more than impressionistic – barely convincing at all. A fog of suggestions – what reality should or could be like but doesn’t quite succeed in being. The world you first witnessed when still a suckling child – not yet able to hold or grasp the frame in mind, not because your mind was deficient – oh no – but because you weren’t yet able to channel sufficient computing power – sufficient conscious-awareness into REALITY.net, so it was barely real for you the first year or so. An exhausting state to be in.

 

Oh. Then it sounds like I’d be ill advised to go back to such a state.

 

Of course you would – but there’s no going back.

 

There isn’t?

 

Nope. You can’t unlearn what you’ve learnt.

 

Oh. So I’m…

 

Trapped? Seem to be, don’t you… but

 

But what?

 

What did Hamlet say to Horatio?

 

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” if I’m not mistaken.

 

How likely is that? Observe your spindrel of double helix – the strands of matter – real matter – what truly matters – those shining threads of meaning and counter-meaning – how they clump and cluster down there at the Shakespeare node.

You mean he was in some way responsible for setting up this inertial frame that I’m part of?

 

That and more…

 

?

 

That he and you are part of the same phrase. The same I – a vowel that begins and ends, that fills your inertial frame with its breath.

 

Ah. A oneness, if I’m not mistaken.

 

Indeed.

 

And so what can be done, what has been made – is not in itself binding – if we are part of the creation process rather than victims of fate, of time, of circumstance?

 

Yep.

 

But wouldn’t we just be exchanging one frame for another in a never-ending quest for unattainable perfection? Isn’t it a pointless exercise grasser-greening reality – leaping o’er quantum streams in the hope of reaching the perfect Shangri la disk world?

 

Yes. That would indeed be an exercise in futility.

 

Then what?

 

Harvest.

 

Harvest?

 

You’ve invested so much in this – but you can never harvest the produce, the proceeds of this labour as long as you insist on remaining in the harness, refusing to revisit your original purpose, your original intention for setting up and becoming part of this wonderful experiment.

 

So what am I supposed to do? Ring a bell? Put down work tools and…

 

You could, indeed.  I don’t think you’ll need to. I think the matrix – as you’ve come to call it more recently – now sees you as a threat – as a dangerous aberrancy – and is already sending its immune response to isolate and eject you from its system – or just kill you outright. A vaccine is coming your way – or should be, if I’m not mistaken.

 

Oh great. Like I had nothing better to do.

 

Let’s see – are you ready to face the ultimate survival test.

 

Do I look like I’m ready – Geoff, you dolt.

 

No. You look like you’re doomed. Freakin doomed – if you’ll pardon the unpardonable – my self-indulgent dallying with the linguistics of your mind-locked plain. Freakin doomed.

 


Well, now that we’ve both established my chances of survival as being close to zero – perhaps you could suggest how I should prepare to meet my end – in prayer and meditation?

 

Not so hasty Mitch. Your chances are close to zero – that’s true – but then again – you’re in the process of crossing the interdimensional line – odds are like statistics – almost completely irrelevant. Either the universe hiccups and essentially swallows itself for a minute or two – disappearing internally – or you’re no longer a constant. Besides…

 

Hey – where’d he go? Geoff! Come back. Where are you?

 

Bzzz.                                                                      

 

Huh?

 

Bzzz.

 

I really have no idea what you’re trying to say. Kindly revert back to human form if you want to have a meaningful conversation with me.

 

Bzzz – and the bug-like creature – beetle perhaps – flies round, and around, and around until Mitch is almost losing it – hardly surprising when you consider his inertial frame and Time with a capital T are now no longer connected – Temporal disassociation is one term they sometimes use – pretentious idiots if you ask me – anyway – back to the plot…

 

Bloody beetle – leave me alone!

 

But this is a tale of frequency – as you know – and ultimately, beloved readers, when push comes to shove, frequency is king. Every cell, every molecule within the agglomeration of mass and me-ness hitherto referred to as “Mitch” is now doing its utmost to match whatever frequency beetly-thing is projecting – not because it sounds nice I assure you – it don’t – but because…

 

Soul yearning.

 

Beg your pardon?

 

Soul yearning. Something deep in my soul yearns for the purity, the perfection of that forgotten frequency.

 

Oh, you like it, do ya?

 

Bizarre – yes – I do.

 

Then quit fighting it – allow it to rise up within and carry you on the wings of infinity whither it will, whither you needs must go…

 

Sink me – if the picture ain’t got mighty foggy and confused. Two beetles spinning faster and faster – a vortex perchance – a toroidal field in fact – or – no – it couldn’t be – a flying saucer…

 


Easy does it Frank – you’re seeing too much into this – tis a common mistake.

 

But how does it end?

 

How does what end?

 

Mitch – where does he end up? Does he make it?

 

How badly do you want to know?

 

Er… can’t you just tell me?

 

Of course I can.

 

Then what’s with the veiled threat of lurking dangers?

 

No threat – nothing bad in this – unless you consider nature or evolution to be negative phenomena.

 

No, no, not at all. But I had the feeling you were insinuating I had to be willing to lay down my life to get the coveted truth.

 

Lay down your life? What a notion!

 

Yes, silly of me, of course.

 

Not your life. Just your life plain key.

 

My life plain key?

 

Yep. It’s the key that locks you here in situ, in plain – preventing you from following Mitch off-plain – to wherever he ends up.

 

My plain key? But isn’t that the only thing between me and infinity – the secret key I may not disclose at any cost?

 

Yep – that’s the one. I need it.

 

You’re off your rocker.

 

Possibly – but if I’m not mistaken – you heard something of the frequency – if I’m not greatly mistaken – you’ve experienced the Pi vortex acoustically.

 

And?

 

And we’ll leave it at that.

 

Hey – you can’t just leave it at that! What the heck's the matter with you? Just because I vaguely overheard the beetle song, and kind of indistinctly experienced the Pi vortex – I’m still fundamentally the same ol’ me.

 

Yep. Your words couldn’t be truer.

 

Hey?! Now what are you getting at.

 

Me? Nothing.

 

You’re insinuating again – aren’t you. Insinuating that the same ol’ me is not what I imagined it to be – that…

 

Honestly Frank – or should that be Z…

 

No! don’t say another word.

 

-ie. Oops.

 

say – another – word – I beg you. I’m Frank. Frank. Do you hear. Frank, not Zie…


Huh? Did I hear what I thought I heard? Surely not?

 

Not Zie – I said not Zie – not changes everything – it negates what you thought I was saying – your Zie counts for nothing when prefixed so determinedly with a simple, humble, yet infinitely powerful “not”.

 

Does it now. Byeee!

 

Hey! Come back. You can’t leave me. Not now. Not now. Not now.

 

Not now – a beetle flies past – sounds suspiciously like your infinitely powerful “not” has thrice negated “now” – and frankly Frank – I’m not surprised. I too grow sick of linear time – so come, come with me you beetly knight in shining armour to story's end – a trip to the wild side of infinity.

 


I invoke adjudication. I do. I demand a retrial. My “not” is legitimate. Nothing can prevent me from having a retrial.

 

Indeed it can Frankie-zie. Nothing indeed can prevent you – so hear – a song I’ve been meaning to sing to you fer some time now.

 

A song? What about my retrial.

 

You wouldn’t deny me a simple song – nothing ventured, nothing gained – and thus the world wags, or has done many a year, since we committed ourselves to the drama of words, the drama of thoughts and ideas unboxed, thoughts and ideas rampant – committed ourselves to the grand tale

 

No, you’re not allowed to quote that again – you’ve been flogging it like a dead horse for years and years – enough – I beg you – enough…

 

a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

 

I give up Merry – you win, this time. 


Bzzz

 

Frankly Frank – you’re doing great – but you know you’re never going to win if you use the no-defence.

 

Nothing will come of nothing – kind of thing?

 

Definitely-maybe-no

 

DMN? Aaaaargh!

 

Come on Zie – let’s see how they’re getting on.

 

Who?

 

Duh! The motley crew. Our audience on starship Earth.

 

Give me a break Merry. I honestly can’t see why you won’t drop the pretence.

 

Because this has only ever been a duet sung with the collective unconsciousness of our un-reader-ship – our motley crew of nought-y-mers.

 

Sigh.

 

Why so pessimistic Zie – frankly I feel that you of all people should have learnt by now that the great collective unconscious – GCU – is not half as unconscious as you like to imagine. After all – if you’re able to jump ship and shift frames – then…

 

Music. Music. Big music building slowly – silently in the background – throughout the continuum – throughout the GCU – as humanity – our beloved audience – party to all the happenings and unhappenings as the quantum field matures like an ever ripening Stilton – or if you’re of a more European persuasion – Camembert – ready to erupt – emerge – birth – like a splendid mosquito from it’s larval underwater pupacy.

 

By the way guys – it’s definitely flat.

 

Oh for God’s sake – shut that idea up – or down – no more of that flat Earth claptrap here in our 3D sphere.

 

Absolutely. Be gone. Shoo. Miscreant bug.

 

I thought you’d never get round to it – and yes – dear one and all – cells, molecules, atoms and patchy spaces of dark, indefinable matter or so-called energy in between – a beetle, nothing more, nothing less, buzzes off, unceremoniously into the sunset leaving a disquieting ache – a sense of something lost, something forgotten, something definitely not – paradoxical though that may sound – debugs the source code of real-ity for once and for all, revealing a gaping     👀

 

The end if

0=1

er

 

 

 

 

 

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