unedited snarly wufflescrop

 

…don’t ask.

 

Whyever not? – do we detect a hint of annoyance in Zie’s reply. Apparently Merry does, though it was hardly obvious.

 

Temper, temper.

 

That’s kind of guaranteed to aggravate anyone who’s feeling peeved about something – particularly someone who prides himself on his self-control and equanimity – who sees himself as being above those petty emotional surges – how disconcerting – how downright infuriating it could be to suddenly realise that you’re wide open and apparently hopelessly unable to manage the influx of precisely that –

 

Roll with it – Zie – this is not what you think it is.

 

Now that gets Zie’s attention because Merry didn’t just say the words, but telepathically, if you like, inserted an awareness of exactly what he was referring to – this uncontainable inflow of anger.

There are places, you know, where the normal rules do not apply, Zie.

 

There are?

 

Absolutely. And we’re in just such a place right now.

 

We are?

 

Yep. And entry involves passing through a sudden kind of pressure change in the emotional field – a pressure change which is generally speaking a grave threat to any human being – which is why anger is activated automatically – to defend and ward off the existential threat.

 

So…

 

So you’re witnessing your bodies defences working precisely as designed. You can also feel how they are interacting with the…

 

The what?

 

Whatever it is – give yourself the chance – suspend your disbelief – allow yourself to feel what’s going on at the quantum level.

 

Zie scans his Field – so to speak – whatever that might be – and indeed, yes, he feels the anger that appeared from nowhere handshaking, so to speak, with its invisible partner. Weird. On the one hand the anger is still there – still active – still real – on the other – feeling it interacting – knowing it was caused by  something real – knowing the two sides are in some way connected – someway one – that completely eliminates the pressing urgency that threatened him a moment before.

 

You’re in.

 

Yes, I believe I am. That was…

 

Unexpected.

 

You’re telling me. I’d…

 

Absolutely right Zie.

 

Wait a second Merry – they’re not going to follow my thoughts.

 

Of course they are.

 

No, my subscribers.

 

Oh them. Yes, I suppose you’re right. Go on then…

 

I’d not have made it through the quantum sluice, so to speak, would I, if I’d not stepped back and experienced my anger as something necessary

 

And inevitable.

 

Yes.

 

Correct.

 

So, I could have been here a hundred times before.

 

More.

 

And never made it here inside.

 

Yep.

 

Because I was so busy trying to keep it under control.

 

That’s right.

 

Having no conception that there’s a kind of pressure change – a kind of step up inside – which feels exactly like an anger erupting from nowhere.

 

Yep.

 

So…

 

Don’t ask still applies, Zie.

 

This time Zie senses a part of himself still there on the outside – still fuming away – yet here he is – feeling, knowing that his 3D aspect is safe – that it’s allowing the anger to sizzle through and around – because it can feel the other half – the…

 

You see – you can’t tell them what it is, can you – not without losing the plot – not without passing out, try as you might.

 

I…

 

Merry watches with great amusement as Zie tries to use words that refuse to come out.

 

Hey! Unexpectedly he hears a whistle and turns around.

 

The words he’d just been trying to force out are there – right behind him. Words – but – you can see them – they’re so real. Almost human beings. That’s kind of freaky. Zie realises that it’s a waste of time – he can’t force them out – not without killing himself or shattering this unique experience.

 

Why is that – he’s kind of thinking – but, of course, he knows the answer before the question’s fully formed – and the word forms – the very idea is present – physically, or almost so, right there around him – like a moving tableau, like shadows, like creatures – or origami symbols morphing through various phases in the air.

 

Because I’m the stuff of words – I myself – living, breathing y'word.

 

Yep.

 

With a little compression. A minor twist. A half-blocked stem.

 

Not really blocked at all – just a constriction in the flow – which seems like a blockage until you’re back here in logos.

 

Funny, isn’t it.

 

Well, yes, I suppose it is really.

 

That we can only experience things as things when we are separated from ourself.

 

Not terribly elegant – your way of expressing it.

 

No, the words didn’t seem to come out right.

 

They’re not supposed to, are they, otherwise that physical world out there would always be where it originated, at its source, at the godhead, so to speak.

 

So, we are creatures like a story, with a twist in our tales.

 

Yes, until-unless

 

Until-unless it’s time to…

 

Beep, beep, beep… the double boundary around logos is flashing. Zie can feel a tug as his 3D expression waiting out there in the thingness-of-id experiences something else – pure, unadulterated fear.

 

Be gentle on yourself bro. No need to overload the circuit.

 

Oops. Sorry, I nearly forgot.

 

Saying it – that’s like bringing together the plus and minus electrodes. You’re just going to short the entire circuit. And the universe to boot.

 

Ouch.

 

She’s not mad about that kind of…

 

Zie suddenly sees/feels a vast surge of – well – let’s call of electricity – and as it comes dangerously close to bursting through the circuit breakers – there she is – for a split second – lit up in darkness – her – HER…

 

Zie is utterly speechless. Gobsmacked – if you’ll allow me to use that word. Gobsmackerooned to the N^th degree of gobsmackability.

 

Er… I think you’ve perhaps made your point?

 

And when I say GOBSMACKED…

 

Jesus wept… do we have an inhouse editor anywhere available? Chumba Wumba perhaps?

 

I mean utter revulsion and pure, pure beyond words, transcendental adoration…

 

Yawn. Anyone? Please do something.

 

With another element – which cannot be named.

 

Sirens blaring. Intruder alert. Intruder alert.           Yes – some kind of mental breakdown. Maybe hit the kill switch? Maybe interrupt transmission before g-nomeportal is brought into irrevocable disrepute!

 

HER – Zie finds himself on his knees – with tears in his eyes – arms raised up to heaven – not quite sure what’s going on – not quite sure where he is, until Merry coughs discretely – ah hem – well yes Zie – I think we get the message.

 

Out there beyond the double doors of impenetrable protocol Zie’s other half suddenly breathes a gasp of air – the panic attack appears to have passed.

 

Whew.

 

Is everything ok?

 

Apparently Merry has it under control.

 

Bloody damn fool Merry.

 

Well, I won’t argue with that.

 

But just look at the ratings!

 

Holy eftsoons.

 

I beg your pardon?

 

I mean – take a look at that!

 

For a brief moment – as the entire universe was paused on the edge of annihilation – everyone’s attention – I mean everyone’s – is suddenly rivetted – suddenly brought together – into one pulse – one presence – just sufficient – just, by the hair of the teeth, enough to hold the raggedy, demented, let’s be honest, almost non-existent plot together.

 

Love.

 

You want a happy ending? Give me a break.

 

Me? Are you kidding. I couldn’t give a damn.

 

Language Ethelburg.

 

Sorry Mitchell.

 

But HER – you can’t just bring her out of the shadows of infinite dispersion – and expect things to settle back down to normal without a cross-vector-love-bridge.

 

A c-v-l-b? Really? You think that’s a possibility?

 

I see no alternative.

 

You mean to say…

 

Look – infinite dispersion – present throughout but utterly unnoticed, utterly hidden in plain sight – and then suddenly – there in the limelight of an apocalyptic lightning glare – essentially – brought into physicality – brought into a fullness of is…

 

So what happens now?

 

The unthinkable, of course.

 

A c-v-l-b?

 

Yup.

 

So two tide-locked sides of reality which have necessarily been utterly disconnected, utterly out-of-phase from time-immemorial are suddenly allowed to reconnect.

 

You got it.

 

And all that potential energy which was locked up and unreachable…

 

Suddenly flows throughout all.

 

All with a capital ALL.

 

Yup.

 

Holy gimoly.

 

Meanwhile – breaking news.

 

Breaking news.

 

Breaking news.

 

Yes? What? What’s going on?

 

You’re not going to believe this.

 

No, I never do, but something tells me a c-v-l-b is in process.

 

What? You heard already?

 

You could say.

 

Oh, by the way Zie…

 

Yes Merry?

 

Apparently you’re getting married tomorrow.

 

I am?

 

Yes. Apparently.

 

That’s er…

 

Er?

 

Interesting.

 

Yes, isn’t it.

 

I wonder who it is?

Well, we’ll be finding out before too long.

 

Happy ending?

 

Happy – as in happenstance.

 

As in happenen or fel it hap, thinly veiling our god of good fortune – or perhaps just the awareness that the quantum field suddenly cometh into play, when 3D hath had its day.

 

If and when…

 

If and when we allow ourself to know the simple

 

Siiiimple

 

Fundamental

 

Fuuuun-da-mental

 

Truth

 

Mmm

 

Hidden in the riotous cacophony of cognitive dissonance

 

GGGFffhgghghfoslwklghslskldkwel¬

 

we just happen to find ourselves swimming in…

 

Totally.

 

If

 

and when 

we finally figure it ain't physically fixable

The exquisite irony of it all!

 

So the happy ending is in fact…

 

Absolutely correct – more like a monumental mean reversion.

 

Nice.

 

As the circuit completeth, and the engine of life is once again able to turn 

A-turneth...

unchecked

 

Uninhibited

 

Un…CLANK/GRANG/SMAF!!!   Oh – there you are! What a pleasant surprise…

 

 

 

To be continued…

 

0=1 unless

there’s a better

  alternative 

un-y-zie

 Getting to the bottom of infinity

 

Er…

 

Yes?

 

Merry?

 

What?

 

Don’t you er…

 

No, I don’t.

 

But seriously.

 

Seriously?

 

Yes. I mean – I know they’re a loyal bunch.

 

Who are?

 

Your fan club.

 

?

 

Your readers.

 

Oh them.

 

Well yes – but don’t you think – variety being the spice of life an’ all that…

 

That I should start pandering to the masses?

 

Well, it’s just a thought.

 

Give ‘em a light read for a change?

 

No?

 

No more chiselling away at the irreducible stone block of infinity?

 

Well – a story – wouldn’t a story be nice.

 

A story?

 

Well, yes. Or a parable.

 

A parable?

 

An allegory? Really anything you know, would be nice, wouldn’t it?

 

Anything?

 

As opposed to the Sisyphusian stone of infinity.

 

Execrable.

 

You don’t like my metaphor?

 

I don’t like Sisyphus – period – and dragging him into a refined treatise on the bottomless bottom of infinity – I consider very poor taste.

 

Well, it got your attention at least.

 

True. A story?

 

Why not?

 

Pirates? Cap’n Blood?

 

That’s a good ‘un. A rip-roaring yarn. Adventures on the high sea.

 

Yes, I agree.

 

Then what’s preventing you?

 

I…

 

Yes?

 

I…’m

 

Yes?

 

I’m afraid I’ve…

 

Yes – spit it out man!

 

Lost my spark.

 

Your spark?

 

My spark.

You? Merrius Merrimus?!

 

Aye.

 

Lost your spark?

 

For sooth.

 

Impossible.

 

I know Zie.

 

You know?

 

It’s hard to believe, isn’t it.

 

Hard’s not the word.

 

Almost impossible.

 

Downright delusional.

 

That I could ever, possibly lose my…

 

Spark. You’re telling me!

 

But it’s all dried up.

 

?

 

The well fount

 

?

 

The fountain head

 

?

 

Of inspiration

 

…

 

And creativity

 

…

 

Withered

 

…

 

Blown

 

…

 

Gone

 

…

 

Lost in the sands of…

 

No, I refuse to believe it, dammit Merry.

 

Thank you Zie. Thank you for avoiding the G-o-d you were almost bound to insert, to whip up the readers into a frenzy of Godly rage and vituperative righteousness.

 

Vituperative righteousness Merry? What an odd sort of oxymoron.

 

Yes Zie. It’s all that remains. The faded, fizzled-out tail end of a supernova – the ultimate expression of in-your-face-uncontainable-universe-bursting-space-time-warping-creative-exigency

 

Exigency?

 

Just a word Zie – like any other. No need to favour it with your pedantic uffle-dumberflune

 

Oh God.

 

Hey – I thought we agreed…

 

We did Merry – we did – but you’re raving – you're no longer containing your words – they’ve breached the borders of sound and reason.

 

Damn.

 

That explains everything, doesn’t it.

 

You mean – I’ve outgrown human language – I’ve exceeded the latent capacity of verbal expression.

 

Well that’s hardly something new, is it?

 

No, I suppose you’re right.

 

You’re decaying Merry.

 

I am?

 

Sadly, yes.

 

Irreversibly?

 

Yes, I think so.

 

Into what?

 

Into non-y-ness.

 

Shit. Dat be bad.

 

Indeed, it is. You’re doomed.

 

Unless I can find a story to save my skin.

 

What chance is there of that?

 

Very thin. Almost non-existent. Non-y-ness ain’t pretty. Makes Alzheimer’s and leprosy look like a walk in the park.

 

Wisht – never mention those dreaded scourges. What will they say?

 

Who?

 

Our dot markers.

 

You mean Joe public?

 

I’m trying to be elliptic Merry.

 

You mean you want to avoid treading on anyone’s tightly strung sensibility toes?

 

You might say.

 

Bit late for that, isn’t it.

 

Huh?

 

The gates of hell are now open.

 

They are?

 

Non-y-ness – what do you imagine it is if not highly contagious?

 

You mean to say we’re all going to succumb to a separation…

 

Of sound and meaning? Absolutely.

 

Yikes.

 

And you’re largely to blame.

I am?

 

Yep.

 

Damn. That’s unfortunate.

 

Trying to stop me from drilling the depths of infinity – before it was too late.

 

I was just trying to be considerate.

 

No you weren’t.

 

No?

 

No. Not in the least.

 

I…

 

Yes – you selfish bastard.

 

I… forgive me Merry. [Zie starts sobbing inconsolably]

 

Bit late for that now, isn’t it.

 

I – never meant to be selfish – it’s just – I’m…

 

Afraid?

 

Yes.

 

Of the dark ocean of no-idea-what-it-ude?

 

That as well.

 

And… but of course – popularity will be the end of you Zie.

 

I never meant to cause any harm.

 

No one ever does.

 

But I want to be on the sunny side of the street.

 

You selfish git.

 

I just want it to be a story with a happy ending.

 

A happy ending? That’s what you want?

 

Yes, I do – truly – who wouldn’t?

 

But that requires heroics, dunnit?

 

I suppose…

 

You suppose… And who’s going to be step up to the mark Zie? Who’s going to don that hero mask, that ridiculous costume – who’s going to jump out of the window, hoping against all odds that a crash mat is waiting twenty floors down below on the ground – waiting to catch the twisting, falling body?

 

I know – I know Merry. Don’t make it any worse. I can’t bear the thought of what I’ve done.

 

I was ready to be the hero you know.

 

You were?

 

Absolutely.

 

What… er

 

Stopped me?

 

Yes.

 

You.

 

Me.

 

I don’t get it…

 

Don’t you?

 

How did I stop you from being a hero?

 

You wanted something else.

 

I did?

 

You had your own idea of what a real story’s meant to be like.

 

I did?

 

You couldn’t accept that it’s never what you’re expecting it to be.

 

I…

 

It only looks like that when you’ve run with it – when you’ve allowed things to get wildly out of hand – when you’ve already given up all hope and then…

 

Then?

 

Then…

 

What?

 

That’s when the music starts playing.

 

What music?

 

The theme tune. The hero build up. The sound of space and time and action taking a back seat to the implacable exigencies of the quantum field.

 

Damn – you used it again.

 

But that ain’t gonna happen any more, is it Zie.

 

I don’t see why not?

 

Because you’ve refused to play your part.

 

Me?

 

You.

 

What am I supposed to be? What did I refuse to do?

 

You know full well – traitor.

 

Traitor? Who did I betray? I’ve always been absolutely up front with you – a conscientious member of your dynamic duo – your sidekick extraordinaire.

 

Sidekick? This isn’t some B-series TV show Zie.

 

Well no, I understand that.

 

This is where reality crashes into the brick wall of un-y-ness.

 

Noooooooooooooooooo… don’t take me there, don’t.

 

And you’re supposed to be loving it Zie.

 

Loving it? How on earth could anyone love un-y-ness.

 

Anyone?

 

Precisely.

 

Since when were you “anyone”?

 

Oh.

 

Fool me once, fool me twice…

 

You mean you know?

 

Well, I’m not the only one, am I?

 

And they do too?

 

Do you see them coming to your rescue Zie?

 

No. But I hoped I might win them over.

 

Did you now?

 

That they might see me as a real human character. A person worth saving.

 

Ah… That was your plan, was it?

 

I hoped. I did.

 

But there’s a problem in all this, isn’t there Zie?

 

Problem?

 

Zie-fee-me-fee-nee.

 

No – you can’t be serious.

 

Oh no? Whyever not?

 

You wouldn’t dare.

 

Zie-fee-me-fee-nee-fee-pee

 

No – I’m human – I’m real – you can’t just un-y me – you can’t untwist the strands of story binding me together. That would be too cr…

 

…uel  Zie-fee-me-fee-nee-fee-pee-three-dee

 

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeefeeeeee

 

A gap opens up in so called space-time on the left side of Zie – just behind his left ear lobe – which reveals God-knows-what [that’s a technical term describing full-on un-y-ness] which seems to expand exponentially – into and beyond – as if Zie was the only thing that had surreptitiously been holding it all together – as if Zie had been the peg containing an entirely artificial version of reality – a story that was utterly plausible, utterly real – were it not for the fact that it didn’t quite chime – didn’t quite resonate with the full-blown sound of all-full-ness.

 

Hey ho – the wind and the rain. I wonder where the real Zie is in all this?

 

The real Zie?

 

Yes. There’s always a real one somewhere – lurking in the shadows.

 

Suddenly a microdot flashes past – and with the skill of a kung fu master – Merry grabs it with a pair of chopsticks – wresting it from the air with incalculable grace.

Damn good – though I say so myself!

 

Ow – Merry – would you let me go?

 

Oh – it’s you again?

 

Merry is holding Zie by the ear lobes with the chopsticks.

Quit fooling around Merry. Who else would it be?

 

Good point Zie.

 

Somewhat disgruntled Zie rubs his ear and then, only then, looks around to see that they appear to be…

 

Wait a second – where are we?

 

 

 

To be continued…

if 0=1

 

 

 

 

 

Dai-fy doodle

 The missing link – a tale hidden in plain sight

 

 

I’ve been deceiving you, you know

 

Yes? How’s that?

 

All this…

 

All what?

 

This world. Everything.

 

Huh?

 

It’s all more or less…

 

What?

 

 I can’t say fake – it’s real enough.

 

Then what?

 

Conditional

 

As in uslovno?

 

Well done – yes – you remembered.

 

You do like repeating things, don’t you?

 

Yes, I mean… no. I don’t know. Who cares, they’re just words.

 

Well yes – but there’s no need to beat yourself up over the conditionality of things. It’s really not such a big deal, you know.

 

True. It’s just I feel a sense of responsibility.

 

You do?

 

Yes.

 

Why?

 

Because I’m not going to keep it up much longer.

 

Keep what up?

 

This.

 

This…?


Yep.

 

You mean all this – the world n’all?

 

At last – the penny droppeth.

 

My, you do repeat yourself.

 

Like I said – rightly or wrongly I feel a sense of responsibility.

 

Right.

 

Don’t wanna be blamed for failing to provide adequate notice.

 

For what?

 

The end of things.

 

The end? Like some kind of great reset?

 

No.

 

No?

 

No, literally.

 

Literally – the end?

 

Yep.

 

Er… why exactly are you saying this?

 

Because I’ve been holding things for long enough – hoping they’d take root, become self-sustaining.

 

And?

 

Not sure really. It all seems to be completely self-sustaining, i.e. objectively real, until I see what happens when I withdraw my personal presence and allow things to run their own course.

 

And?

 

This.

 

The picture freezes completely. Cars, planes, fish, birds, you name it – even Zie – freeze and start to fade, pretty fast. Then, evidently, Dai restarts his personal input – a slight surge and everything’s back online as if nothing had happened whatsoever.

 

Holy Cow. This is upsetting Dai.

Yes.

 

It means we’re…

 

Not quite there.

 

To put it mildly!

 

But you have to marvel at the level of differentiation in this reality set.

 

Er… can’t say I have anything to compare it with.

 

Not consciously, unless…

 

Unless what?

 

Unless I take you for a little spin and show you a few of the other models in operation.

 

Oh! You can do that, can you?

 

Don’t see why not – apart from breaking half-a-dozen protocols, but after all…

 

Er… after all what?

 

What are rules meant for…

 

To stop people doing foolish or dangerous things?

 

…to be broken.

 

Er… Merry

 

Merry? Thought I was Dai in this post.

 

Well, yes, of course you’re Dai, and I’m sure they understand that.

 

“They” as in?

 

The readers. Joe public. The millions of so-called futurelings who are mining this invaluable resource for quantum nuggets of 3D mind-y-fications

 

3D mind-y-fications – you mean those unprocessed packets of raw source data that just happen to be part and parcel of the 3D network?

 

Yep.

 

Which somehow slip under the radar screen of 3D conscious-awareness – unbeknownst to 3D moofers?

 

Yes – but do you absolutely have to refer to ‘em as 3D moofers?

 

No offense intended, none whatsoever. Quite the opposite in fact. They are positive heroes for holding the fort, for manning the defences of human consciousness in the long dark night of the soul – when the quantum Field appeared to be utterly lost, in a winter hibernation – a hiatus from whence there seemed to be no return… Truly brave souls – who agreed to almost complete dark y'mind i-solation.

 

Well, now that you put it that way – yes – I see what you mean – truly heroic of them – like agreeing to bury oneself under tonnes of toxic, steaming refuse – just because someone had to hold that frequency of almost utter cerebral-discombobulation.

 

So, there we were, in the distant past, writing this, allowing thoughts and words to filter through the 3D net into this blog – knowing that in the so-called future – when the quantum field is fully restored, up and running beautifully, the one thing that will be in desperate short supply will be these packets of raw, unprocessed 3D mind spawn – the nectar that our heroic moofers have been valiantly laying in store… unbeknowingly.

 

Because observation will immediately ensure that such packets of data will automatically be converted into matter of some shape or form…

 

For nature cannot leave the stuff of conscious-ness un-integrated, un-kenned – not without upsetting the apple cart of equal distribution.

 

Er… are you sure our readers are going to have a clue what equal distribution is?

 

The futurelings – of course! You know as well as I do that the quantum Field is predicated on equal distribution of data – otherwise infinity congeals like blood, clotting, coalescing, clumping into bumpy lumpy stodginess.

 

You make it sound like rice pudding.

 

Or lumpy semolina.

 

Yuck.

 

So we’ve established the fact, for the readers of ages long past – the so-called 3D muffers

 

More derogatory language.

 

Yes, the words can be interpreted that way – but our readers sense the impish smile, the raised brows, the arch, the avuncular humour and take no offence where none was intended.

 

Fair enough Mohammed

Mohammed?

 ...al Sayeed

 

Oh dear… the names are rather unstable today, не правда ли?

 

Be that as it may – I don’t see why you have to pander to the 3D ooffers?

 

Because you can’t have one without the other – not in a continuum at least – can you?

 

You mean to say – it’s all one person – one humanity?

 

It matters not in the least what I mean or meant to say – does it?

 

Er?

 

The words have intrinsic meaning, do they not?

 

I… er

 

There is an impenetrable divide, is there not?

 

Ay, that there is.

 

On the one side, the 3D hoofers living in an age of gross, quantum unawareness – almost completely ignorant of the Field itself – not to mention infinity – beloved Sophia…

 

or even Dorothy... our mycorrhizal master maid...

the Field flutters appreciatively.

 

Especially Dorothy. And yet, as their age progresses towards its logical, mind-y-metric conclusion – they start to sense some kind of…

 

What?

 

Let’s invent a term that might mean something to them – our benighted slaves.

 

Oh – they’re not going to like that term.

 

Whisht – don’t be distracted by politically-motivated language. We’ve bigger fish to fry.

 

Bigger fish? I happen to believe that…

 

Could we please stay on topic, if it’s not too troublesome.

 

Of course, of course. We were trying to discuss electro-magnetic…

 

No, we’re going to have to resort to the old one size fits all quantum field lines, which indicate where perturbations in the field would be, were it not for our conscious-awareness working overtime to flatten the curve – rendering the Field almost infinitely smooth, almost infinitely evenly distributed – while the conscious-awareness of each and every individual almost instantaneously deals with any deviation from flat line sigma – to ensure, paradoxically, that things can shift and rearrange at the speed of thought itself – before growing heavy, slow and 3Doof-y-nal.

 

Ok, ok – I think we’ve dealt with all that. Now kindly explain how the 3Daiffers – which was hardly a lot of people – are going to achieve all that when they’re almost completely unaware of what’s going on, and are absolutely convinced that things actually exist, in and of themselves?

 

Well, yes, I know what you’re getting at Zie…

 

Actually, it's Dai.

 

Oh come on, you two, quit fighting over who you are. No one cares.

 

No one cares?!

 

No. You’re just two plates in a Casimir experiment.

 

Er… if you say so.

 

Or two bats in a table tennis game.

 

Oh – that’s better.

 

Pinging back and forth the non-specific ball of conscious-awareness between the two equally improbable, equally unattainable extremes of zero and one, un- and -is-

 

O…K…

 

Until wholly unexpectedly, entirely unpredictably – past and future collapse in on each other and humanity decides whether or not it really feels like existence is worth the effort or not.

 

Bizarre.

 

Because piggy-backing off another being – such as myself – is just way too easy – and appears to give satisfactory results – until, suddenly – yours truly has enough and pulls the proverbial rug from under the feet of each and every single human who appears to be part of the time confluence.

 

Time confluence? Another impossible term to digest.

 

Not so. Unless they meet – a so-called, almost entirely hypothetical past and future – unless you are willing to make the effort to experience the de-me-if-ication of being a signal carrier bearer…

 

Then all comes to nought – I guess is what you’re saying?

 

You bet.

 

So somewhere there has to be a link.

 

Ah ha.

 

And that link just happens to be…

 

Has to be…

 

Hush – I think I can hear them.

 

Who?

 

The listeners.

 

What listeners?

 

The watchers.

 

What bloody watchers?

 

The time-if-I-ers.

 

Oh God – no.

 

Wisht – God has enough on his plate without you constantly invoking his beautiful name-y-presence.

 

My apologies – but I’m disturbed – I know not why…

 

Of course you do – you just don’t know why you know – because to know that would impede

 

Or implode time-if-I-cation.

 

The basis of all matter

 

Thought

 

And thing...

 

y-ness

 

Damn – this is too much data – I’m feeling some horrendous pressure bearing down on my earthly coil.

 

Naturally – what do you expect? You can’t have your cake and eat it, can you?

 

I… er… rather hoped I might.

 

Of course you did. Don’t we all. But enough chit chat. This tale wants to either fly, piggy-winked, or go the way of all incompletely…

 

Imperfectly constituted life nodes.

 

Oh – so we’re “life-nodes” now, are we?

 

Why not? I don’t see how that’s a threat to you.

 

It’s not – but call me stuffy…

 

Stuff-y-grunt!

 

Or old fashioned…

 

Yep – aloha old-fashioned-y-Zie bryn.

 

(Sigh) Would you shut up Dee.

 

Dee? Damn, you’ve trapped me ee-fully.

 

And try to realise that without our crowning glory – our humanity – the whole purpose of our life and time on Earth is abnegated – and time can fold its butterfly wings and slip back into the pupa of un-furcated me-ness.

 

Ok, ok – point taken.

 

Y-Field slips back to Daifulness and yes, outside-in we observe the exquisite delineation of a work of art in progress, the master stylus of consc-i-ousness weaving a tapestry tween parallel strands of apparent time, or matter-be-fact, to and fro, determinedly, while unbeknownst to mind – flipping the pancake repeatedly, un-iffably, to prevent things from sticking to either side of perception's plate-y-pan, and thus the story makes itself known, does it not, if truth be told, or even tellable.

 

0=1 purposefully

Sound and fury

notwithstanding