deckchairs and a cup of tea

Er...

 

You can’t begin with an er...

 

Oh. In that case allow me to rewind.

 

Granted.

 

The time wheel effortlessly starts spinning backwards, as in anticlockwise.

 

You seem to have overdone things, Martin.

 

Yes, I’ve never been good at managing time.

 

I would have helped if you had asked.

 

True, but I didn’t ask so here we are, somewhere in the distant past.

 

Er...

 

I thought you said one can’t begin with an er...

 

I did, but that was before you rewound time to... wherever we are.

 

Zero point.

 

Zero point? You mean before the universe came into existence?

 

Technically, yes.

 

Technically? You mean this is but a technicality?

 

Yes, well, the universe isn’t quite all it’s made out to be.

 

I beg your pardon?!

 

As well you should, note taken, now kindly stop interrupting me – I have work to do.

 

Er… ok.

 

So here we are, dear subscribers – in a time before time, in a place before place, at or perilously close to zero point. You may be asking why I saw fit to come here, and the truth is I don't really know. It was a whim that I didn't suppress, that I simply acted upon.

 

Incredible, Martin, and at the same time freaky.

 

Yes, I agree, bro. Well, now that we’re here we may as well rearrange the deckchairs.

 

I beg your pardon, Martin, er...

 

Yes?

 

What deckchairs are you taking about?

 

Imagination is nine tenths of the law.

 

It is? Not possession?

 

Well, not exactly, but the idea’s more or less accurate. Deckchairs. Quit prevaricating. Just do it.

 

So I just need to imagine them?

 

Absolutely.

 

And what will that achieve?

 

Progress.

 

Progress?

 

Yes, Frank, we’ll see what’s next.

 

Oh.

 

Because without a next we're not really going anywhere, are we?

 

Good point, Martin. So I’ll just get imagining then.

 

Excellent, and while you're at it I'll pour myself a cup of tea.

 

Frank, to be honest, isn’t terribly good at imagining things, still less deckchairs, but he recollects deckchairs on the Titanic being rearranged even as the ship was going down and that takes him into  a rather interesting realm of thought and fiction, while Martin noisily slurps a rather elegant Chinese cup of tea.

 

Er... I think I'm done Martin.

 

Let’s see... Martin brushes a speck of dust off his lapel, or that's what he seems to be doing when, in fact, he's reactivating Infinity Drive. Martin and Frank both now see the deckchairs being absorbed into a kind of field or dare I say – entity.

 

Is it a black hole?

 

Not exactly Frank. I call it Infinity Drive. It’s where your thoughts, in this case, your deckchairs, are the input which Infinity Drive is able to utilise in order to rearrange things accordingly, from this starting point.

 

Er... Ok...

 

Good, I'm glad we've cleared that up.

 

But what things, Martin?

 

Oh, things in general.

 

Things in general?

 

Precisely.

 

Er... I hate to badger you Martin, but what exactly do you mean by “things in general”? It’s rather vague, if you don't mind me saying.

 

Say away, Frank, all you like. No harm in speaking your mind.

 

Well?

 

Oh, I meant literally things, as in all things, in general, as in throughout all reality.

 

Oh! So you mean to say your Infinity Drive can take my feeble thoughts about deckchairs on the Titanic and rearrange everything in existence around them?

 

Yes Frank, that's about right.

 

But that's absurd.

 

Yes, I agree entirely. Absurd is indeed what it is.

 

Then there must be some kind of mistake, or misunderstanding?

 

None whatsoever.

 

But you yourself admit it’s absurd.

 

Indeed, I cannot deny it.

 

Then what’s your meaning, Martin?

 

Really Frank, I'm surprised at you. My meaning is simple and explicit. It’s “absurd” because any discussion of infinity, or what Infinity Drive is able to do, immediately falls into that category known as absurdity. There's nothing I can do about it. Infinity is incompatible with what we consider to be rational thought, or reasonableness.

 

It is?

 

Entirely, yes. It appears to be irrational or absurd, as indeed it is, to all intents and purposes, and yet that does not stop it from being true.

 

You mean to say that this little speck of dust you brushed off your lapel, which you referred to as Infinity Drive, is able to rearrange the entire universe from Big Bang to the present moment, without batting a proverbial eyelid?

 

Yes.

 

And I'm supposed to take it on trust?

 

No. How you take it is entirely your business. I merely answered your question in good faith. Infinity does not do things by half measures. It's all or nothing as far as infinity is concerned, and the speck of dust on my lapel is neither here nor there because Infinity Drive does not fit into the perceptional framework we refer to as 3D reality or this “universe”.

 

Then how do we know whether it's just something you've imagined?

 

The pudding, Frank.

 

The pudding?

 

Yes, Frank, the proof is in the pudding.

 

So you mean that if you’re telling the truth reality is now going to be noticeably, quantifiably or qualitatively different from what it was previously.

 

Should be Frank, yes, if your deckchairs were sufficiently well imagined.

 

Well I can't claim I did a great job, Martin. It's hardly my forte imagining deckchairs. I was more focused on the Titanic and the plight of those passengers and employees who were so close to their tragic demise.

 

Yes, very empathetic of you, dear Frank, but don't worry, I’m quietly confident that Infinity Drive was able to look through the mists of your imaginings and find whatever it needed to rearrange, whatever needs rearranging in reality.

 

Like what?

 

No idea.

 

But why do you even imagine things need rearranging, Martin?

 

Well, people in 3D reality are trapped in a world of things, straight lines, intersections, inertia and entropy. Their eye, you might say is off the ball of infinity and focused more or less exclusively on things, on coping, making ends meet, squaring the circle of moment with the implacable march of matter, of fact, of fait accompli, little suspecting that they are trapped on one side of mind, on the outer side, so to speak, little suspecting that the other side is accessible through imagination, through breath and consciousness, whatever that may or may not be.

 

Er... And you mean to say that physical reality can be superseded by this inner side of the circle, and that your Infinity Drive is somehow able to access it?

 

Well, that seems to be what I’m saying, though one never knows with words.

 

 No? Why not?

 

Because words are stuck on the outside of things, attempting to describe things using things, denoting and representing things to the best of our ability yet never quite succeeding – more or less guaranteed to fail, though not without worth or merit in trying to do what can't really be done.

 

Oh! You mean they can never succeed?

 

Well generally, yes, they’re always slightly out of tune, or ever so slightly displaced.

 

And there's nothing we can do to rectify this?

 

Do? We can feel it and be aware of it, and from time to time try the alternative.

 

The alternative? The other side?

 

That’s right. The inside, so to speak, where words are wholly absent or redundant.

 

Oh. A silent world of pure intent?

 

Well, that sounds very grand but one doesn't really perceive it as silence.

 

No?

 

No. We seem to be telepathic and these frequencies can be “heard”, in a manner of speaking.

 

So what about the universe? Can we see if it’s the same as it was before we tried this experiment?

 

Sure. Let me switch off my telephone.

 

Martin tosses his telephone into a void which seems to be waiting for the phone as it flies through the air, then vanishes.

 

You just threw away your phone, Martin? Isn’t that rather extravagant?

 

In for a penny, in for a pound, Frank. If I'm right about things, if Infinity Drive has done the trick then they'll be a perfectly good replacement phone waiting for me on the other side of the dividing line.

 

Er... Ok.

 

Energy cannot be created or destroyed.

 

So they say.

 

So anything I do here, outside normal reality, is equivalent to something that happens in a dream.

 

Except that we're not dreaming, Martin.

 

True, but try telling that to the telephone, or matter in general.

 

Huh?

 

As far as they’re concerned we’re offline, otherwise known as dreaming.

 

You could have fooled me!

 

Well yes, déjà vu ’n all that. But let’s see what happens if you mark yourself here on this side. Here, let me chop off one of your fingers.

 

Frank screams in terror.

 

No? Ok, well your hair?

 

So you have to?

 

How else are you going to test the hypothesis and be convinced?

 

Ok, you can cut my hair if I can cut yours.

 

Sure.

 

Half an hour later...

 

Now we just need to step back into regular 3D reality.

 

But how?

 

I think we should use the Titanic to complete the circle.

 

Do we have to?

 

No, but it’s probably the best option at this moment.

 

Ok. I hope this isn’t going to be too horrendous.

 

Er... It’s an imagining. Here goes – you apparently work on the Titanic and you are rearranging the deck chairs. Then it goes down and sadly you drown.

 

I do?

 

Yes, but don’t worry, it was just a past life so not entirely real, though it left memories and a certain aversion to swimming in the sea.

 

Oh.

 

Now here goes.

 

Martin shoves Frank backwards into story and both of them find themselves in medias res...

 

Er, what the heck’s that meant to mean?

 

In the thick of things.

 

And?

 

And Frank drowns rather horribly mid-Atlantic but notices another part of himself imagining /remembering all the above, and not unsurprisingly gravitates to that part.

 

OMG! Talk about intense! I can taste the salt water. I think I'm going to be sick.

 

Easy does it, Frank.

 

Frank takes some very deep breaths and slowly comes to, looking around, feeling green to the gills.

 

That was real, Martin, wasn’t it?

 

As real as this.

 

I actually died!

 

Well, you actually remember dying, but on the other hand you're not dead, so what gives?

 

Er... And my hair?

 

Well, look at mine. Is it still a mess?

 

No.

 

Yours neither. Martin takes his phone from his pocket, examines it.

 

So we were dreaming?

 

Apparently so, unless infinity connects both sides of “never the twain”

 

Never the twain shall meet?

 

Indeed.

 

In which case, your Infinity Drive...

 

Well yes. The mind boggles.

 

I wonder if anything else has changed in this world? Frank starts looking at things critically as a buyer might examining a used car from a dodgy dealer before making a purchase.

 

Well, the very act of looking at things critically and suspiciously already alters the balance, Frank. You’re no longer taking things for granted the way you did, are you?

 

Indeed.

 

You’re allowing gaps and anomalies in the fabric of reality to be detected, where previously you wouldn’t’ve.

 

I...

 

Unsettling, isn’t it?

 

I feel like...

 

Nothing is quite certain any more.

 

Yes.

 

Frank sinks to the ground, overpowered by the feeling of loss, bereft of a trusted buttress –  the assumption that everything was real and coherent...

 

Awooooo! Like a wolf howling to the moon. Awooooo! And Mother Nature, the illusive Field, herself alive if we be, pricks up her ears and answers to all who have ears to hear, silently to those who do not, with a speck of dust materialising on Martin’s pristine lapel.

.

 

 

0=1

heartrendingly