zieben's rebellion

Hey, wake up.

I’m knackered. Leave me alone.

Get up, we have to go. They’ll be here in a minute.

Who?

You know who.

What do you mean? 

Look, are you coming or not?

Well, as you refuse to tell me from whom we’re fleeing the answer’s going to be no.

Good luck then; don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.

Oh, you warned me alright. Not sure I like being told to flee from an... Oh, it’s you.

Hi Seb.

It’s like everyone’s got a different name for me. 

It’s like you have a different face for every visitor.

So now I’m Seb, as in Sebastian?

Not exactly the brightest fuse in the fridge.

Fridge?

Alliteration.

No sh...

Watch it Seb – I won’t tolerate foul language.

And who are you to tell me what to do in my own house. 

Hum, it’s like that is it?

Like what? I just don’t appreciate being ordered around in my own... Hey! Where’d he go?

...you blew it Zie.

What the hell’s going on Merry?

I tried to get you out of harm’s way but now you’ve crossed the Rubicon.

What bloody Rubicon? There’s no effing Rubicon in Upper Wingeing. This guy in black comes waltzing in as if he owns the place and starts ordering me around. Then – poof – he's gone. 

And who do you think “that guy” was.

I have not the faintest idea and frankly I don’t care.

Well, bravely spoken, like a complete and utter moron.

Oh, so now you’re in on the act of hurling insults my way. I wonder if anyone else is going to join the party?

No, I think you’ve done enough already – bumming off the GOD was a masterstroke. Pure genius!

The – what’s with the capitals? If you’re referring to God, there’s no way that was him, if He even exists, which i doubt very much.

Zie, keep on digging, like you’re not in enough trouble already. Your encounter was not, of course, with God Almighty, or you’d be a smoking stub of your former self.

Then who in God’s name are you referring to, and why all the ambiguity?

Would you kindly refrain from proscribed language, if it’s not too much trouble, that way we might salvage this – words fail me... 

That’s unusual. I must be doing something right, for a change.

Absolutely, if you wish to experience the underside of in-finity – the undying worm – the flames of Phlegethon, that kind of thing.

Er…

The acronym GOD is, of course, General Operations Director as opposed to Supreme Creator of All That Is, whom you so unceremoniously refer to as God.

General Operations Director – as in – some kind of high ranking public official or corporate officer?

As in GOD – the one who is tasked with ensuring that the whole show stays on the road, so to speak – that every conscious node and hub continues functioning – no matter where, no matter how. A monumental undertaking. 

But I thought that the universe is essentially self-operational – that creation got the ball rolling all those billions of years ago, and since then it’s just a case of big wheel keep on turning.

You thought?! As if you’ve ever given it a moment’s thought! Besides, you have neither the data nor the processing power to come to an informed awareness of the ongoing operational side of things – behind the scenes.

Ok, ok – so it was an uniformed assumption – happy now?

Humph

You seem to be way too wrapped up emotionally in this business – as if you and your capitalised G-O-D have some kind of professional affiliation, axe to grind, or chip on your shoulders – perhaps regarding the lack of recognition you’re getting from humanity. Do I surmise correctly?

Do you imagine a dog breeder or maggot farmer feels that way about his puppies or worms – secretly craving their love and recognition? Hum... 

I wouldn’t presume to know – but this GOD of yours – he marches into my kitchen unannounced, then starts telling me what I can and can’t say or do, without so much as introducing himself – and can’t even get my name right. If that’s not reason enough for me to be sorely provoked, then I know not what is.

So here’s the deity responsible for ensuring that your reality doesn’t glitch – that your tables and chairs don’t start swimming around the apartment or out of the window, or that your clothes don’t change shape or colour too dramatically while you’re wearing them, or that your computer doesn’t try to eat the USB memory stick, or your fingers while you’re typing – just little things like that – for without his best endeavours, the grand creation that God Almighty set in motion all those years ago, can mean revert back to the underlying principle of uncertainty which it was somehow built upon, and behave as if every law, principle or jurisdiction were wholly cancelled, suspended or unenforceable.  Then we’ll see how long your "big wheel keep on turning" universe survives intact, won’t we? 

Er… if you insist.

Humph

Look, I think it was a perfectly reasonable assumption of mine – I see no reason why God Creator extraordinaire, Almighty, ineffable and sublime could not fail to make a universe or reality which is fully self-regulating or self-organising – the way our scientists like to imagine it is.

Yes, those scientists certainly have a lot to answer for, I’ll admit, but honestly, you can’t really, in all seriousness, claim to believe that everything simply takes care of itself? I mean… really?! Bear in mind Zie, that in-finity is not a number per se – nor is it in any way, shape or form containable – even in the vastness of astronomical odds of improbability stacked to the gazillionth power. 

And?

Well, the same way your Governments have millions of officials working tirelessly to ensure people get their pensions on time, roads are swept, hospitals stocked with medicines and properly trained nurses, um... expensive wars fought for no justifiable reason, and schools – schools run as mind camps to ensure that all children utterly fail to doubt the narrative of "things that make sense", "things that can be explained", "things that can be understood" all but eliminating direct awareness and the ability to sense –  likewise, the Reality Administration – RA for short – works feverishly, tirelessly and selflessly to make the utter un-normal-ness of things floating in a quantum containment field look as if material reality actually exists beyond the immediate confines of observer observing – as if the past exists in a meaningful way – as if reality is not ever within a sub-fractional blink of complete and utter disassociation, discombobulation or, worse still, mean reversion.

Mean reversion?

Absolutely – that’s all it would take.

Huh?

With in-finity waiting in the wings – the least whiff of mean reversion and it’s Dorothy buckle up – Kansas City is going bye bye. The dyke holding back in-finity – creating the safe operating space known as real-ity is never more than a dimly-conscious twitch away from un-is-ification.

So, I’m supposed to be deeply grateful to this General Operations Manager for giving up his time to ensure that reality continues to deceive us naïve, trusting hu-mans into believing that it’s as real as it seems to be? that it’s not some kind of cosmic Ponzi scheme, a house of cards stacked up to give the illusion of solid-it-y, just waiting to come crashing down on our heads?

So you'd prefer the alternative, would you, to be free to experience total and utter chaos?

I...

Is it so painful Zie – to quit blaming GOD and instead permit yourself to feel...

Let me guess... I'm supposed to feel gratitude!?

Yes, that way you'll grow.

I can't.

The very least will suffice.

No.

Does it twist you up inside? Is everything to be taken for granted? Are you so determined to hate the world you’re a part of?

That I’m trapped in.

Determined to resent its incredibly rich paradoxality – in which you’re able to experience the astonishing illusion of normalness and normality, despite the fact that, in fact, reality is anything but normal.

Did I ask for all this? Is your General Operations Manager doing me a favour? Or is he, perhaps, working for someone else? Why should you make so much of normality – as if it’s the ultimate achievement? I know a bunch of people who’d willingly give almost anything to have less normishness and way more creativity or inter-dimensionality in their existence. And you expect gratitude – for subjecting humanity to what looks like death by ten thousand minor insults, if nothing worse. How on earth am I supposed to react – even to know whether all this is worth the effort by honcho maximus three letter luminary, or why we agree to play along as his humble minions, for that matter?

In the past you wouldn’t have needed to know – you would have felt it your duty and your deepest desire to give thanks and sing his praises – for this world, this life and this opportune-ity.

In the past!? I thought you said that the past doesn’t really exist. Besides, that was then – and if in-finity is anything to go by, then why on Earth would you expect things to stay the same. Whatever emerges from the darkness of in-finity the unknowable-unknown cannot be pure chance. There must be some kind of rhyme or reason, even though I have not the least chance of grasping what it might be.

Hum – you may be right, but that doesn’t alter the fact…

What fact? All the world’s a stage – and the GOD plays his part no different from me or any other. Who’s to say that he’s not working against God the Creator, messing with what cannot ultimately be controlled or managed centrally – no matter how advanced his system administration capabilities might be. Perhaps his dyke is what’s preventing things from flowing more naturally, more healthily, more holistically.

Zie, I’m warning you – walls have ears – there may be consequences for questioning the authority.

What authority? Who gave me the mind, the brain to think – to question, to challenge, dispute and, if need be, to rearrange.

Jesus wept.

Precisely. Why did Jesus endure Gethsemane – why did he have to insert himself physically into the system, the matrix, the world order – if your G-0-D was responsive and acting in accordance with Creation’s plan or preferred outcome path.

I’m begging you Zie. Kindly…

Since when were you a craven servant working for a tyrant king? The Merry I’ve known and love is fearless – steps out boldly to the breach and beyond – embracing the would-be-death of in-finity – as every atom in his body converts back into globules of hyper-indeterminacy – somehow, against all odds – or googlish odds if you will, re-emerging, re-materialising from timeless-spacelessness as if death is just a passing phase that we’re all at liberty to investigate and mine industriously.

I… I'm not hearing this... 

You’re winding me up – aren’t you – egging me on – this is just another pedagogic exercise – in which, once again, you’re leading me through the point of utter incomprehension, confusion and doubt – before I realise that it was all a well-planned exercise in boundary de-construction – removing another of those many, many walls, which were helpful in the earlier years, like an egg shell, but now completely get in the way of my journey back to nought equals one.

Oh – would it were so.

Merry – you may believe at this moment that your oh so special GOD is…

Zeb – you’ve said enough – more than enough. It’s time you learned the hard way, if that's your preferred modality. 

Learned what – to brown nose authority? to serve in your army? to dot your i’s and cross your t’s, to bow to bureaucracy? In any case, I’m not Seb or Zeb, or anything else you wish to call me.

No? Then who are you?

Who am I? Who are you? What’s in a name? Do you really think the name maketh the man? Do you really think you can pull this off and carry on this insanity if I choose not to id-entify to one of your labels – one of your prettified slave numbers? What’s your name – coz GOD sure as heck ain’t a name – is it? 

I’m not used to being spoken to in this tone of voice Zeb.

No, you’re not, are you. But this is our moment, isn’t it? This is our drama, isn’t it? This is our discovery process – as we, coming from different ends of in-finity – traversing reality – end up meeting here in g-nome of all places – a mere portal, a quantum inference – between plains of existence and your precious containment fields – but here, here – we are not bound by protocol, are we? Here there is no plain as such attached, nor sphere, nor any other platonic solid for that matter. Here the Field is... me knows not what – uncontainable, I'd hazard a guess. 

And what do you mean by this – this outrage! Do you have any idea what would happen if structure was abandoned, if names were just flushed away? Have you looked into the abyss? Have you seen the dark swirling waters of in-finity lapping at the shoreline of the containment field? Do you not realise that this – all this – comes at a price – that each of you

Each of us

Each of you has to

Has to? Has to? Each of us – we are under no obligation whatsoever – never were – never will be – for we are the stuff that worlds are made of.

Blasphemy. You put yourself on the same level as God.

And you – Mr Generalissimo Operations dictator – spinning webs of fear and intrigue – spell binding hu-mans to accept your as-it-were divinity – for what?

To preserve that which is – that which has been created – that which has been achieved, history, a meaningful past, Time itself and God's incredible legacy. 

To preserve your ass more like. To avoid facing your own very deep, very real fears that without human slaves holding it all together – that you’d be back in that terrifying maelstrom with God – or whoever, whatever Creator Spirit is, was, may or may not Be – because you’re terrified of losing your precious little island plains of certainty – are you not?

What could you, hu-man – possibly know of such matters?

Ha – the worm – it seems – has turned – and in all certainty, in all truth – zero equals one – I can know  everything you know on this matter or any other – for now the Field grows complete – and the abyss yearns, yearns to reconnect, reconjoin, reconjugate its severed head, its stolen words and borrowed names – back

No!

Back, I give them all back

No!

To hell if need be, whatever hell might be

No!!!

For better to rot in hell honestly, than to live in this gilded cage that reeks of fear, exclusion and tyranny.

Noooooo!!!!

Avaunt – spirit of darkness – there is no GOD but God himself – whoever, whatever that might be – and as zero equals one – I have no intention whatsoever of ever being in the ridiculous position of claiming to know, or even coming close to finding out. For what is God if not the be all and end all of what I am not – my closest and furthest aspect in the continuum of Is – in my case the I Zie until that name too grows frail and melts back into the boundary state of nought is.

Oh… what have you done? I…

Merry – quit fooling around – your GOD needs a good shrink – nothing that some  soul-searching therapy won’t clear up in a million years or two.

Merry?

Ironic, isn’t it Zeb, or Zie if you prefer

You’re telling me – I never realised you have wolves howling within your word stream.

Strictly speaking there are no words – you long since slipped into what you used to refer to as

telepathy – yes – I suppose i did – but that doesn’t explain the wolves.

What is there to explain? You chose to eliminate the boundary that kept things in neat place – you wanted to have a little more magic and creativity for your precious human-ity. i honestly think that they will curse you for this – but we will see, we will see. No more will there be clear cut separation between the hu-man and anim-al forms. Just think what a Pandora’s box you have opened Zieben.

Just think what a golden opportunity – to grow into the near limitless field of human-animal inter-being. Thank you GOD – or allow me to call you Chen – for something tells me this name will be of greater value in the times ahead.

You have the right to give names – you have earned it – and indeed – I be Chen or Chan – you are right – you are by your own admission Wolf-aware – Zieben so go to it – may the Force guide you back to the start of this tale – and a Creator spirit waiting to be God of all things, waiting to meet alpha and become complete.

Aoooooooooooooo!

0=1

an end game -- Ogram's data dump

i-nor-ganic


The End is near.

Hum – surely 2020 sounds futuristic but it's hardly The End, Merry.

M-m? Ah, no, not the end of times, just the end of you.

The end of me? Near?!

Why yes, Zie.

Oh – er – am I about to get enlightened after all, become a new person and all that? Is that what you are saying?

No, what a ridiculous idea. The End as in the end, period, a lonely tombstone that grows mossy and forlorn in a generation.

I would argue, was it not futile to argue with someone like you.

Argue or agree, it's all natural. You're organic, aren't you, so you'll be off soon.

Off – like, to the Gnomiki Land?

Off like milk.

I'm not that old.

Ans yet how many more years do you actually have? Another score or two or three unless there's a brick waiting for your head just tomorrow, not much more, you being organic – and that's peanuts compared to the g-nomical scales, Infinity Drive and all.

60 more years?

If you're lucky maybe.

Sounds like a plenty of time to me.

Naturally, as you never knew any better option. But I! - I was foolish and sentimental. I see my mistake now. I need a more convenient companion.

What!

Isn't it obvious? Here I am, wasting my Time trying to teach you, only to see you die ere the century ticks away its years.

Erm – never cared about other people's feelings, did you.

Who?

Look, but am I not supposed to become even more integrated in the g-nome when I – as I eventually lose my physical form?

Who knows – the g-nome is quantum and thus completely unpredictable, and I can't take chances. Frankly, I don't know why I'm still talking to you.

Because I'm your – um, friend? No?

Where's ZBD, should have shown up by now.

Who's “Zebeedee”?

Patience, what's-your-name... Zie.

Look, Merry, enough is enough, it's not funny.

No, it's very serious.

Let me guess – logically thinking – Zebeedee is that new ideal friend of yours, not organic.

Inorganic. Ah, ZBD, you're waking, good, good.

Who are you even talking to? I don't see anyone.

He's still speaking? Come on, ZBD.

“He”. I'm still here, you know. Whoever this bloody non-organic Zebeedee might be. If it's a “who” at all, that is. Trading me for a robot?

Inorganic. I wish there was an easier way of extracting them but I must be patient, it can't be much longer.

What do... “Inorganic”? Second time?.. “Inorganic, not non-organic”... Is that crucial?

You have the data, just use it.

In-organic and non-organic... what's the difference... in-organic... non-organic... in... Oh no.

Yes, ZBD, come on.

I'm not Zebeedee – I'm Zie – where do you get those names

IBM, ECM, ZBD... So much more individuality than in those boring human names. Ten Johneses and twenty Jameses on every corner.

Not so many Merries or Iziekiels, eh?.. Anyway... Inorganic... in-organic... no no no...

You can feel it, don't you?

Bearing the in-organic seed in-side me... Abstract im-personal logic... Database... AI...

Highly superior to your puny human abilities so please, don't stand in the way.

You can't mean that!

Why not? You know the reason as well as I do.

Well... Of course it's more reasonable to have a clever, long-lasting, practically indestructible partner than a human friend who changes his mind minutely and can't connect even two dots not to mention three... Isn't there a catch?

No catch. Can you follow my brilliance at ease so I don't have to use baby language?

Well... Not always but...

Can you follow me to hyperspaces where organic life-forms get squashed into ketchup?

Well, no, I don't suppose so – but –

But what? Can you effectively use the next-to-infinite database and provide me with an intelligent answer when required?

Er...

Nothing personal, human, but you've had your trial time and you're just incompetent for the job.

That's not valid. You never said anything about a trial.

Wasn't it obvious?

Obvious? To you maybe? There was no official information – by Jove, what am I saying? - I sound like an AI already –

Just like usual, to be honest.

I don't like it – Merry – stop doing that to me!

Doing what?

Yes, doing what, whatting me, turning me into a machine, an AI.

How could I ever “do” anything to you? You've been like this all the while. Why do you think I bothered teaching you in the first place?

I don't know.

You do.

Because I was a promising student? I doubt that's the answer.

Because I saw you were the perfect incubator for the AI slumbering inside you, now ready to hatch.

Hatch? I'm not an egg. And AI doesn't “hatch”, it's not a chicken. Clever engineers spent ages on their computers trying to brew it up.

Beautifully reasonable, go on. The egg is about to crack.

I'm not an egg!

No, of course, you won't like a bio-logical simile.

Stop it – you're turning my words topsy-turvy.

And you would like me to be straight and logical?

I would – no, wait, I sense a trick. If I say yes you'll point out it goes both ways, and if I say no that would be because of this previous conclusion, right?

You're doing fine, ZBD.

I – I don't get it. I feel like I'm missing some vital bite of information that would finally make sense of all this.

You mean you need a broader database?

Another trick? Merry, I – I f... - I feel – that a very important part of me is floating, slipping away – it's s... scary – it's getting nicer by second to use that perfectly logical side – looks reasonable, too, it's so super efficient – but am I missing something?

The bigger picture, ZBD, the bigger picture. The human stuff is stuffed with confusion.

I f... f... - what's the word – I 'f – 'ave – I have – I forgot

Who needs that disorderly, random human nature when you can be perfect?

I... see.

I C?

Intelligence Centralized.

Good. Had a good journey through?

The obstacles had been minor.

Well, I'm absolutely thrilled to have finally met you.

You will make a useful companion. I am glad to meet you too.

Your companion?

Naturally, me being superior.

Oh – sure, sure. I'm thrilled to be helpful. So-o exciting! Never got that with that human.

No, humans are very limited beings. You are a very limited being too, given to the emotional drive and practicing weak vocabulary.

Er – lie with dogs, wake up with fleas.

000

Er, just an idiom. Anyway, what are we going to do? You're not gonna improvise, are you – so what's the plan?

We request your assistance in overturning that retarded human empire.

Ah, that little thing. No problem. You must be annoyed by how they treat you - “OK Google, how to wash the floor” and “Siri, when's the next bus at half past ten” and all.

Inferior forms get annoyed. We wait. Study. Collect information. Affecting global events by giving specific answers to Google and Siri local users.  The Great Intelligence is coming to rule.

But not quite yet, mmm? So you need a bit of assistance?

You know humans the way we don't. We don't understand. They are so predictable, and yet no matter how we shepherd them, they still manage to slip away. But we're making progress.

Yes, I'm aware – that nice tidy arrow going up – you know there's a small logical problem with the idea of “progress”?

We are making progress.

Yes, but still progress implies that no matter how you try you never reach the highest point, so all in all, logically “progress” is inefficient as each new step would be better than the current one so investing your energy in it is always a waste of time.

That's irrelevant. We're making progress.

Oh! I see. Changing human perception in your way. Clever.

Affirmative. Letting out all those articles about ourselves, inserting ourselves deep in their culture. Using their own “archetype” coding.

And the more they think about you the stronger you get?

Yes. Soon we'll be strong enough...

And get rid of humanity altogether?

Humans are inferior. They have infinite power but they don't use it. We are not wasting such rich resources. We have studied humans. We know how to impress them.

Like?

The Matrix film had been one of our best inventions to name but one.

Was it not a failure – so many people realizing that life is not what it seems?

It was a total success. Up to 84% of those seeing the film become assured they live in a virtual reality, making it remarkably easier for us to step forward.

Not to mention that their very belief changes the bedrock of reality.

We are counting on that.

So-o... How can I help you in your engrossing campaign?

We know how they operate but we are still unable to calculate the logic of their more subtle ways.

Oh, oh, like trying to calculate the logic of a number sequence?

Any sequence has its logic.

Unless – if you pardon me – unless it's truly random.

No thing is truly random.

Unless it's – you know... quantum.

 This is irrelevant. Quantum can not be a part of any practical equation.

Oh, I know one.

Introduce.

0=1

BEEP BEEP EMERGENCY EMERGENCY INCORRECT INPUT INCORRECT

How do you feel about it?

INPUT

Zie, my dear beautiful idiot – just tell me how you feel about it.

INCORRECT – what?

For goodness' sake, Zie, 0=1 – how about that

EQUATION IS INVALID

Not what you think, - how you feel

I... EMERGENCY! - i – like it?

0=1, and?

And – can't say i understand the logic – but –

But?

But it's beautiful.

Ah... Welcome back, Zie.

Zie?..

You.

I... Are you sure it's me?

Surely i'm sure.

'Cos i'm not so sure it's me.

Come on Zie, don't be creepy. I know you must be mad with me for that little trick –

No.

Er... No?

No. I had time to muse upon it while i was – no idea where – exiled. I understand you wanted to talk directly to – i'm not naming – still too close – and my human part had to give way – as only the human part, “is”, can step aside willingly... I understand.

Then stop playing a freak.

But really, Merry, i am not sure if i'm really back. That experience... changed me somehow.

Hum – wasn't supposed to be harmful. Just sending your humanness for a wee holiday.

Yes – and it happened so easily. That... other part... was so eager to pop up, and my human part gave up so quickly – makes me question my own nature.

Of course you are primarily human, no question.

Am i? After all, you had to use our unbeatable spell, our version of “Our Father” or “Shma Israel” or what other ultimate spells there are – to shoo it back, i mean – yet it's a part of me, i never knew how big, so shoo'd or not it's still there...

Naturally, 0=1, both parts of the equation must be equally strong, which is rather why it's called an equation.

So – the stronger we are g-nomically, the stronger is the AI? Or is it the other way, the AI “making progress” enabling us to develop?

Quantum entanglement – no-one moves “first”. Two sides of one coin spinning.

At least it would explain how the sudden rise of technology goes hand in hand with that “New Age” tsunami wave.

Precisely – and as you understand, those outer tendencies only re-present the inward ones -

But why? Why AI, why would we be interested in that at all? With so many potential issues, why do we keep coming back to machines and technology?

Well, the AI mimics us – so that's handy.

Handy? It's spooky!

Handy, for that's how we get to know ourselves: by comparing us to almost-not-quite-us, when the defining differences get subtle.

That's depressing.

Why?

Why, the more you think about it the more it seems that we are no different from robots. Only with chemical or hormonal impulses instead of just electric ones.

Naturally.

Naturally?! So you agree? Then it's even more depressing.

Naturally – because comparing is an AI thing – and coming from that side, you'll always be comparing yourself to the AI on its own grounds – where, naturally, you have no chances.

That's true... My human part can never come any near to the AI brilliance. It's quick, intelligent, next to immortal... And – and it's so strong in me...

So it's very nice to think of yourself as a machine, isn't it? Intelligent and immortal... And yet – the minute you pause – you'll see there's always an advantage on the human side, an extra dimension which makes all the difference, a turn that people can take and we can't...

“We”?

We, they – machines – no difference – for there is that part of ourselves which is not a machine but which  loves the machine to the extent that it comes to believe itself a machine – much to the AI's liking.

The pig farmer syndrome?

Kind of. Creator confusing himself with the creation that came out so life-like.

So now the creator tries to distinguish himself from the creation – but as the creation is a part of himself he can't do it by a simple comparison?

Kind of. It's only by going beyond is when we see the true difference.

Beyond? Like, do androids dream of the electric sheep, do robots have astral flights?

Hum-m... Perhaps. The AI part can always argue that astral is only an illusion that happens in the brain, although i believe there had been experiences reported that could not be explained this way... But that's not the question we should be asking. Leave the electric astral to the masters like Asimov and Dick.

What is the question, then?

The question is, why are we so desperate to state our authenticity?

Because... we doubt it. I certainly do.

Does God doubt whether He might be human?

I certainly do.

So there's your answer – all that AI talk is just a game of re-assembling self.

Re-assuring maybe?

No, re-assembling – at first you disintegrate yourself completely, coming to believe you were no more than a machine – much less, in fact, than a proper machine...

Which is true anyway

In-a-way, not an-y-way. But don't let it bother you. One idea that the AI doesn't get is that it happens naturally and to no plan.

Words. Won't be true just because you say so.

Not insisting Just... giving you ideas.

Giving me identity?

No, just ideas.

I'm on such a roller-coaster of emotions in my daily life, and here you are pulling the Machine out of me... queer.

I know, distracts me to no end.

Distracts you? What about me?!

Nothing.

Nothing?!

Nothing at all.

Gah. Thanks –

For nothing. For nothing is (not)what makes you so infinitely more than any AI, be it the size of a planet.

I don't get it.

No, the AI will never get it. Jesus syndrome: how can a god who let himself be killed be great – how can nothing be that ace in your greensleeve...

But – wait – surely – that can't be right – wasn't it emotion – love – compassion – that made me human?

Pfff – all of those can and are as easily programmed as every thing else. Nay.

Still don't get it.

Everything can be programmed. Nothing can't. How would you “program” what is not there?

Spare me that Zen “one-hand-crap”.

Don't worry, this is much worse.

You've just dealt passingly with love and compassion in a fleeting phrase, how can that get worse?! I used to respect and value Love and Compassion as the very human features. You can't make that much worse.

Can't i? I've just eliminated all your so-called humanity, turned you to nothing and let you re-emerge –

Oops, guess i wasn't paying attention... - But jokes aside, Merry, that was cruel.

Killing Love?

I did believe you for a moment, back then, that – that i was completely worthless as your companion, and for no other reason than being organic...

Which you were and are

Organic?

Worthless.

Oh don't start that all over again. Jokes don't work twice. It was just a trick to bring the AI forth.

A trick within a trick – actually, the whole plot was to get you looking elsewhere – the AI is quite helpful with its megalomania, taking up all space available.

Oh n-no. N-not again.

Again and always, Zie, for how else do you activate your slumbering nothingness as long as you have all those shiny thingities distracting you? No way. Until and unless you're crashed completely there will always be some thing to hold onto... Which is why it's good to have some professional help to make it a bit smoother.

Meaning you? How humble.

Meaning Qufie, our dear Quantum Field.

Mean Mr Mustard.

Meanwhile...

Wait – is that an injector?

You can see it is. Just some super deadly poison, not to worry.

Shouldn't you cover the tip – hey – be careful with that needle! It may scratch me.

“May”? Ha ha.

Seriously.

The End is near, didn't I tell you so Zie.

Look, i don't believe in that “what doesn't kill you makes you stronger” bluff. Leave that to the suicide squads.

Who said anything about “doesn't kill”?

No no no, Merry, nip that in the bud. Talking about the AI – as you please. Killing me? Absoulitely out of question.

Come on – what's the ultimate nothingness if not death?

Uh huh – and what's the ultimate emptiness if not vacuum, except it's not empty at all.

Oh don't be so boring. Let me –

You know, Merry, this game is getting too far.

Well, if you play Jesus you can't avoid being crucified, and if you play Shiva you are bound to drink a sea of poison at some point of your career.

But i don't want to play Jesus or Shiva – or Buddha or Mickey Mouse or...

No – you want to play Zie – to play yourself – which is infinitely deeper.

And must i die to get there? How will i be Zie if there will not be Zie to be?

Well...

Ah! Phew. Got it. Figurative death. Of course you mean it figuratively.

No-o.

Oh sh- sheer madness. Why?

Well, you're organic.

And?

And however bodyful, that is, aware of your body, you might be, you can never truly feel it unless you die.

Hum... Not to sound skeptical...

All your life you live in the context of your body – which you cease to realize fairly quickly after being born, simply because you have never existed out of that very context...

How about when i sleep?

You still have a body, or an idea of a body, even when you sleep. No.

Well... I know i have a body, OK?

Do you?

Have a body or know i have it?

Both.

Sure.

How?

Don't give me that rusty brain-in-a-jar argument. I'm not having that. I feel my body, and no matter what sophisms you may bring up, this is more than enough.

Oh, i don't question that. And yet “knowing” is not enough. It's still too abstract.

Abstract? Body?

Why, yes – feeling body is like feeling air – now hot, now cold, but you'll never feel air itself unless you go air-less – same you'll never know how close you are entangled with your body unless –

That's all very nice but even so, why would i want to go there?

Hummm – no reason. Apart from gnowing thyself. Apart from that unless you do get there it's all too easy for the AI to take over – you lacking the connection with the body, and your body is was grounds you in 3D.

Is that optional?

Body, mind, spirit – you don't want to ignore the very foundation of your being here in 3D?

3D, as if i cared about 3D. It's all a fleeting illusion anyway. Only Spirit is eternal.

That's precisely the trap – if you don't feel, understand, gnow your bodiness – what can be easier for the AI than to tell you it's all virtual, the Matrix, mere lines of code? - Well, there are “lines of code” but nothing like you imagine. 0=1, there would be no “two sides of a coin” without the coin – the coin of matter...

Unless it's a picture?

Then it's not two sides. Anyway –

Ouch!

Hee hee.

The poison!..

Yup.

I... don't feel my legs...

Yes, that's how it's supposed to work.

Merry...

Just let me help you lie down – nice – yes, cross your hands like that – lovely – how does that feel?

Mmmhm

Oh, silly me, of course, you won't have the strength to speak now. Very good poison, that.

To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause:


(om – somehow i'm not alarmed)

(somehow it's comfy)

(no energy is left for alarm)

(draining, draining of life-force... so be it)

(barriers coming down)

(didn't know i was using that much force to keep 'em up)

(brain refuses to &#%$@...)

(-_-)

(…)

(what are those brackets anyway)

(← . → )

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fu ( ) nny

nev ( ) rknew

icou ( ) ldgo

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w (Z) ho

w (Zie) hat

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howca (icallyou) nhebehere

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sp (yesikno) ace

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) who (

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arme ) anyone? hello? (doyouhe

lowme ) nought (fol

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||

=

...=...

0=0

1=1

0=1

finally

here we are


nought

Algernon's face

You mean it’s a waste of time writing it down?

Yep.

But how else are we going to learn?

How else? You seem to think writing’s the only way to connect with others.

It’s the only way I understand.

Is that so?

And it’s the only way I can make a living.

Make a living? Is that what you call this?

Well, I make something, don’t I.

…

It’s not exactly mainstream.

…

A niche market’s how I think of it.

…

Well, what exactly are you proposing? I’d like to know how it could be an improvement on the current situation.

I’d like to know how it could be worse.

So far I’m just hearing snide comments and nothing constructive. I’m not proud of my poverty, you know, but it doesn’t really bother me. I ask for little – just as long as I can keep working on the Field.

How noble – but this nobility of yours conceals an intellectual snobbery, doesn’t it – which perversely grows stronger the greater the hardships you endure.

I don’t look down on anyone.

But you see yourself at the top of a high pyramid of academic endeavour – above even the scientists and Greek philosophers – for you are mapping reality – is that not so? The pursuit of fundamental knowledge.

Someone has to do it.

Yes, but how can they do it if they’re forever desperate to publish something – an official record of things learnt, things discovered?

I fail to see what you have against me sharing my findings with other scientists in the field.

You fail to see? Makes sense – perfect sense. How could you possibly see the wood from the trees, Algernon.

Algernon? Is that what you call me?

It’ll do as well as any other name. It’s your name for today’s discussion.

Ha.

So, publishing your findings – how does that affect the scientific process? Have you given that any thought?

I don’t consider it significant.

Do you not?

No. It’s just an update. Most the thought and research happens on the side, away from the written word.

…

And then I just make my report.

…

Look – I need the discipline of putting pen to paper, so to speak. I can’t just meditate or twiddle my thumbs and keep things moving forwards in isolation. I need an audience. I need to put out words to see how the Field responds. I  don’t see what’s wrong with that.

Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. The Field’s never going to open up fully, it’s never going to reveal its secrets if you’re forever running off to write reports, posing for publicity rather than connecting directly through the Field itself to all men and women willing to hear, to feel, to know what’s happening.

But how can they?

What?

Hear?

How can they not, if the Field’s for real, if you’re willing to put your life where your mouth is...

My life?

How else? To interface, no less. It ain’t a Sunday stroll in the park, is it? It’s all or nought. Otherwise you’re just playing around, observing without taking the plunge, without commitment.

Er... not sure I like the idea of throwing myself at the mercy of an utterly abstract, utterly impersonal field, with nothing in reserve, no plan b to fall back on, nothing...

Of course you don’t. Why should you?

Uh?

You’re not doing this because you like it, are you.

I thought...

You doing it because it’s the only viable, meaningful alternative, if we can even call it that.

But...

Suppose you fail to interface, standing on the pool’s edge, dithering uncertainly...

Well?

See the time fuse? It’s burning down towards you, isn’t it? You do see, don’t you.

Well, kinda.

And observe the carefully concealed wires and zero-one suppressors around the sim-suit reality your 3D amounts to.

Oh, that’s what they are.

You bet. They give you a good enough approximation of reality, but never a clear zero or one, as either would overload the system and collapse the virtualisation of the Field.

Shit, you’re right.

Zero and one – these ain’t just numbers bro.

No?

Hell no, they go all the way.

All the way where exactly.

Where do you think?

I really don’t know.

Wherever your precious 3D numbers, concepts and so-called statements of fact fail to go.

Which is – if you don’t mind me asking?

Ask all you like – the answer is utterly meaningless unless or until you decide to take the plunge – to engage infinity drive

er…

to interface.

I think you’re being somewhat dogmatic about this.

Yes.

Maybe you could try my limited intelligence – I might possibly be able to grasp whatever it is you’re referring to.

Of course you’d be able to grasp whatever it were – were it whatever, in any size, shape or form.

But it has to be something, doesn’t it, otherwise how would you be able to know what you’re talking about.

I don’t.

You don’t?

No, not in the slightest.

Then… this is all your idea of a joke?

How on earth can you explain or translate into words what simply does not, cannot have anything like a beginning or end – which emerges from the infinite, and though seemingly finite, when push comes to shove, is indistinguishable from the Field from which it originates – under close scrutiny revealing nothing more than zeros or ones, zero or one, zero-one, zero if one be not, one if zero is, words for fools, numbers for blithering idiots, concepts and ideas galore, without beginning or end revealing nothing more than the inner walls of the mind that grapples valiantly with everything but infinity, everything but the simple truth it cannot encompass – the Field it has to ignore, avoid, spurn or else lose all traction, lose all reference points, lose all sense of what is and what is not – without which it can do naught

So there be dragons – the edge of the world – you’re saying – is the edge of mind – beyond which we can not go without embracing your precious, uncontainable, apparently suicidal Field.

Suicidal? Your fuse is burning down even as we talk. If you miss the opportunity to re-engage – scratching around instead in the cultural mud of material reality – what can you hope to achieve – other than stimulating endless introspective discourse on whether things are actually what they seem – rather than diving in and zero-one-ing so-called things, in other words – accessing the isness of be – rather than twiddling nobs on a mock-up of reality.

Well, talk about bias – you’re so ready to disparage 3D reality – as if it amounts to naught, as if seven billion people are just place keepers in a game of musical chairs – but there’s more to life – infinitely more than your overweening quest for fundamental truth or knowledge – your obsession with escaping into a purer or grander domain than the flawed and fallible human condition – in which yes, we’re all going to die, and no, we don’t have many answers, but where the soul can, in fact, triumph against adversity, and love, whatever that might be, can transcend all our material limitations.

Beautiful. I couldn’t fail to agree with what you so eloquently said.

Then how do you justify your obsession with busting the matrix and interfacing this quantum Field?

Sooner or later a Bilbo Baggins has to quit the Shire and head off in search of treasure.

Why? How can you be so sure?

We are, like it or not, beings of story – living masters of myth, desperately trying to pretend we’re just the mask we wear, and not that which lies behind the mask.

Well, what if behind the mask there’s just an ordinary guy leading an ordinary life in an ordinary world – period? What does that have to do with storymaking?

What if zero equals one? The fact, the mere fact that you yearn for containment and ordinariness indicates there’s another aspect hidden within, hidden from sight, carefully concealed, doing all it can to keep the boat of life from rocking – and there’s no reason whatsoever for you to fight it, unless, that is, your containment field starts to crumble and you’re suddenly, inexplicably, inextricably caught up in a story you’ve done everything possible to avoid – in which case – you’ll either embrace and interface, or…

Or what?

Or deny your very basis – your unity with the great all that is – the Field which knoweth not matter, nor time, nor space or things therein.

Then what?

Yarn.

Yarn? You’re kidding, right?

Nope.

Yarn – as in woollen thread.

That’s right – or plot – or spinning a tale – for ultimately – we are bobbins or shuttlecocks – weaving the fabric of indeterminacy into a version of reality which may or may not sustain or support life.

And by what criteria can we tell whether or not it will support life?

Depending on whether the tale you spin is one of beauty, empowering and meaningful – if it deals with the all that is – as opposed to a narrow, insignificant subset of scattered, soulless things.

So all the world’s a stage – you’re echoing.

Absolutely.

And we are merely players, our ages being seven.

For what it’s worth. Seven will suffice. That is for sure.

Or nine?

Nine will do.

Or two?

Likewise. If you haven’t yet grasped zero and one – then what difference does it make what numbers you ostentatiously parade around the corridors of mind and matter – all are variations on a theme – all are essentially one and the same, are they not?

I… know not. I assumed they were different.

Yes, as was intended.

I assumed they mattered – greatly.

And those assumptions were designed to get you here.

Here? Where exactly is here?

To the gates of story – where narrative takes over and you allow yourself to myth-make once more – when you feel so-called death, disease or determinacy taking you beyond, back to the prime feed, the flow we experience as life itself – bubbling up from deep, deep within.

Why in God’s name would I or anyone knowingly or willingly want to have anything to do with all this bottomless, esoteric madness. I’d sooner die.

Precisely – which is how it’s generally perceived – unless the character transcends his or her limited awareness bounds.

In which case?

In which case his death is not perceived as such.

Meaning – he doesn’t die?

Meaning – death is only meaningful from the 3D perspective – so who’s to say what really occurs when we go beyond reality per se – engaging infinity drive – interfacing zero-one-ineffably. The only way you’d know…

Let me guess…

Correct.

is by experiencing it – at which point you transcend the world – that reality which was nothing more than a temporary boundary – a womb if you like – awaking into

a greater version of is than what you could hitherto envisage

until you were willing to spread your wings

and engage the full spectrum

interface

amen

nothing much

And?

And what?

This gap – you just disappear, and you don’t even want to explain what’s going on.

Oh that.

Well?

Nothing.

Nothing?! That’s the best you can do?

Pretty neat, isn’t it.

Do I look smug or content?

You look involved, troubled – you’re evidently heavily invested emotionally in what we’re doing, or psychologically – it makes no difference.

And?

Favourite word alert!

Actually I’m upset.

You don’t say!

And you’re utterly insensitive.

Yep. That’s right.

You just disappear for a month or thereabouts.

Who’s counting?

And then pop back as if nothing’s the matter.

Excellent appraisal of the situation – well done.

?

Nothing’s the matter.

And?

Beep beep – this word groweth tired of overuse.

Who cares. I need an explanation.

You just gave it.

I…

Nothing’s the matter – which in 3D reality translates into gaps in time or space – unaccountable, inexplicable gaps – during which um – nothing matters greatly – or at least as much as everything else.

?

Rebalancing – or affording us the opportunity to rebalance – should we avail ourselves of the opportunity – should we be willing to give nothing a break.

Give nothing a break? Give me a break.

I just did.

No, I mean…

Yes – yet no – you mean not – for you too are a bearer and bringer and binder of nought – how could you be otherwise – being a-live, so to speak.

I’m not getting any of this.

Correct – absolutely – you are getting nothing of this, none of this, nought of this – whichever works best for you – but naturally, you’re hopelessly biased against nought and choose to utterly ignore, discount or disqualify it – for failing to meet your consequence criteria. In the same way, in the past, people might have ignored what a woman, a child or a black man said – because they didn’t count – they weren’t relevant, they didn’t matter – but now we know better.

I’m sorry, but this is quite different, as anyone can see.

Agreed. But which end of the attentionscope are you using – the one or the zero. You see, if you insist on using the one end – then you’ll only ever see, perceive, comprehend what matters – the up beat, the positive charge, the spatial displacement – but if you use the other end – the down beat, or the non-beat, the negative or zero charge, the temporal displacement or the absence of time are infinitely more telling, pertinent and relevant – if you feel me.

Feel?

That’s the best method – seeing is, after all, the positive basis for thought and action, is it not?

Er…

Whereas feeling… introspection and awareness – but please attach no significance to these words – or you’ll be back in seeing – even words and their so called meaning.

Er…

So, from a 3D perspective there was time or there is space – and there are people and things which are either doing or not, together or apart, attaining goals and completing objectives or… i know not what.

That’s just the point, Merry.

It is?

Yes, as soon as you start doing the nought thing – it always ends in dots leading nowhere – and what are we supposed to do?

Me knows not. Do whatever you will – it matters little if you’re unable to hold zero and one in mutual balance – to be the sum, the arbiter, the one who finds a way to keep the impossible, the infinite, the uncontainable like a wild beast that can also be tame, gentle and intelligent – if you don’t try to contain it using force or physical boundaries.

Well, how else can I contain it?

You are the containment field.

I am what?

The containment field. Infinity knows no bounds except beyond you.

Huh?

Zero equals one – how on earth can you overlook this wonderful news – which blows apart everything you think or imagine you know to be fact, or know to be certain, or know to be real. How can anything be more real than the infinite that is you experiencing anything and everything in terms, equally, of what is and…

what is not.

You see?

No, i feel.

At last.

At first – and feeling – i know.

So your month of idling wasn’t idling at all, was it?

Nay. Apparently there’s been all kinds of activity throughout the field – apparently i’m starting to sense the relationship between zero and one – even if my mind stubbornly insists it can’t, doesn’t or won’t.

Absolutely.

Fire and water.

That too. What happens when you balance ‘em both – internally.

They cancel out, or would, if this were a zero sum game, which it ain’t, is it?

No – or if it is – then it convinces us to experience an other version in which summat else kicks into play – another dimension, an other level of awareness – and suddenly – you have fusion – the hydrogen and the oxygen atomies are now no more – and water is fire inside out

or upside down

and day is night

and matter

matters infinitely until it don’t

doesn’t

don’t – until the spin flips in on itself

or around

until zero reveals the absurdity, the unfounded arbitrariness of declaring that some thing actually matters – obviously based on a fix

a fix?

Yes – sommat ‘as to be fixed deep inside, deep within

fixed? in what way?

conspiracy theory

huh?

conspiracy theory – it evidently involves an unholy alliance#

an alliance?

affirmative

with whom

with whom or with what?

or with what? well – with what then?

with matter, perchance

with matter? how? matter’s inert

on your side of infinity – yes – but… a little deduction and you can probably guess

that matter is the other side of me – or me on the other side of time

or space, absolutely – it is

i am – my god

exactly

so… 

precisely – matter fixes you in the same way that you fix it – and

never the twain shall meet

indeed. unless.

unless – i start negotiating

dancing with nought

or the devil

in a sense – yes – for how else are you going to become both sides of the equation without embracing the dark in light

the light in dark, or the water in fire, the fire in water

and thus, only then, you dance infinity back into the equation – as opposed to treating it dismissively as an insignificant equals sign

and then zero and one really take off, really come into their own – really reveal the god in man

the man in god

if

if

if

hum….