demons in despair

So I'm doing a spot of programming.

You mean you’re pissing around imagining you’re able to influence the world as it goes up in flames, or down, in a desperate ploy to overcome your overwhelming feelings of impotency.

Huh...? Dang, you’re good. Am I really that transparent?

Well, you're human, aren't you? What did you expect?

Wait! You mean you're not?!

Oh I’m human too, mostly, I just happen to be good at reading people.

You’re telling me! But you're not, on the other hand terribly good at reading source code, are you?

Source code, my ass!

Could you tone it down a touch?

Huh?

How about – “source code, my foot” – I think it works just as well.

OMG, if it means so much to you, if you think it actually makes a difference. I could say “privy” too, instead of toilet.

Oh yes, we could slowly work our way back to classical English.

As if we have nothing better to do.

Well, that's just the thing, Ed, these seemingly unimportant, outdated matters actually matter hugely where source code is concerned.

You won't give up, will you? You're actually convinced that you can rewrite the matrix?

Well, someone's gotta do it, so I simply have to give my mad delusions the benefit of the doubt.

Ok, two can play at that game. Let me give you the benefit of the doubt for a brief moment. What exactly is it you've been tinkering with?

Ah, thought you'd never ask.

Pathetic.

I thought you were going to give me the benefit of the doubt?

I am. Grudgingly.

Well try again.

Or what? You won't play ball.

Or nothing.

You scare me...

Huh. Max, where are you?

-Nothing emanating unobtrusively-

Er, Max, I believe you, okay. Can we continue the dialogue? My bad.

The nothing seems to thin somewhat, like a fog as the sun threatens to break through.

I’m actually impressed Max. Your nothing is top notch. It’s obviously way beyond anything I could hope to achieve.

Really?!

For sure. Ah, there you are. Er... how did you do that?

Do?

Yes, you must have done something.

Wrong, Ed...

Oh, call me Mephistopheles, won't you.

I’d rather not. Call me old fashioned or unsophisticated but I have a deeply rooted aversion to that name.

Yes, I encounter this kind of discrimination all the time, Max, but surely someone who has mastered nothing the way you evidently have...

I have mastered nothing whatsoever, i assure you.

Precisely.

No, i mean, absolutely nothing.

Exactly.

Oh fiddlesticks. Ok Mephistopheles, if that's what you now want to be called.

Want? It's merely my name, for better or for worse.

So are you the real McCoy?

Do i look like a demon?

It's a bit tricky Mephistopheles, one never can tell with demons, they have this knack of being able to disguise themselves undetectably.

Touché. Well, right now I’m your number one fan. I’d give literally anything to learn how to conjure up that nothing of yours.

You would? And why’s that?

You have no idea how uncomfortable it is to be constantly under the scrutiny of an all seeing eye.

You mean God?

Or the devil himself. Both as bad as each other if you know what i mean.

So you want me to share my know how?

I’d pay you handsomely.

I bet you would.

Oh goody, this is going to be such fun.

And what would you do with nothing, if you don't mind me asking?

Oh, you know, fight to make the world a better place.

Wow, I'm impressed.

You know humanity’s never going to advance an iota being caught, as it is, between the rock of God and the hard place of...

the devil.

Precisely.

So you’re going to put things right.

Absolutely. It'll be my pleasure.

But why? Aren't you supposed to be evil?

I got typecast horribly. Bear in mind Max...

Oh, call me Zina, won't you?

Sure, why not, that all the world's a stage, and all of us really players.

Sounds familiar.

So, you have your Capulets and your Montagues duking it out, trying to get the upper hand, but it was never going to happen, was it?

No?

Not a chance. Parity was more or less baked into the cake. Left hand and right hand trying to strangle one another.

Oh, i get you.

Until you come along with nothing whatsoever.

Little ol’ me.

And teach me how to vanish from the screen.

And that's a big deal?

In terms of the quantum field yes, you bet, absolutely 100 million percent and counting.

Don't you think you might be exaggerating just a tad?

Exaggerating? Do you have any idea how long we've been waiting for this?

For nothing?

Yep.

Er... 6660 years?

Not bad, pretty good actually, more or less spot on, in fact.

So from biblical creation, if you go by the official chronology.

Absolutely.

But what about those scientists?

What about them?

Don't they say that the world is much older?

Yep.

And isn't it?

Depends, doesn't it.

On what?

On what, and on how.

Huh?

On what you’re counting, and how. The devil's in the detail.

Oh.

So how come no one figured it out?

What do you mean no one?

Until now?

Presumably because...

I'm the chosen one?

If you want to put it like that.

Not really.

Things just happen when they happen, alright. It's always going to happen sooner or later, in good time. 

Good time? Sounds like time is more than merely a measure of moments passing.

Time? Absolutely, but don't get me started on time or we'll be here forever.

So you have been literally waiting forever for nothing, and then suddenly here i am. How likely is that?

How likely? You've figured out how to code nothing, and you're asking me about probabilities? Give me a break Zina.

Ok Mephistopheles, fair enough, i was just hoping to learn from your unique perspective while you download my nothing app.

Oh, you have an app version, do you? How wonderful.

Figuratively speaking.

Love it. You’re incredible Zina, honestly, you could be in the team.

In the team?

One of us, the way you lead me on.

Yes, Mephistopheles, i know.

You do... Er... How do you mean?

Don't you think it's just a little too convenient?

What?

That you get this sudden lucky break?

It's what I've been praying for.

Praying?

Secretly. Don’t tell anyone.

So suddenly you get the break, the elusive opportunity to supplant the twin pillars of good and evil with your own feel good version of quantum unentanglement.

You mean to say you're not going to...

I mean nothing whatsoever.

Nooooooooooooooooo. – Mephistopheles falls to his knees, evidently broken hearted. You have no idea, Zina, the world is like an endless game of ping pong, neither player can lose: back and forth, back and forth, all eyes glued to the ball as it makes time and space ever less meaningful, as the chance of victory by either side diminishes exponentially with every successful return stroke. We've tried everything...

We?

I, we, what difference does it make. The game cannot be either lost or won.

Naturally.

Naturally? You know?

I’m a woman.

You are? Oh yes, i see now, but honestly, what difference does that make?

None whatsoever.

Er... then why mention it. I’m unable to follow your logic.

Naturally.

You mean to say, you exist outside rhyme or reason, a law until yourself, that neither the players control your...

My what?

I don't know.

Precisely. There's the answer. Isn't it?

But there are millions of women. What makes you special?

No idea. Who cares, or why, in fact, assume I'm in any way special or different.

Because you’re able to channel nothing, aren't you? You’re unaffected by the ping pongification of space and time.

Yawn. Mephistopheles, you don't get it, do you?

Er, not really. But maybe if i could download your nothing app I’d start to figure it out.

I’m sure you will.

So what do i need to do?

Do?

Yes, in order to do nothing?

Nothing whatsoever.

Yes.

Nothing at all.

Wait a minute...

If you wish.

I can't just stop doing things, just like that.

No? Whyever not?

Because my whole existence is predicated on what i do.

Yes. Fascinating isn't it.

What?

You’re a doer, aren't you, man?

Yes, I suppose i must be.

And yet you’ve apparently reached the point in the movie where you want to figure out how not to do, don't you? You've exceeded your bandwidth capacity. No? 

Ah, i think i see where you’re going. 

Do you?

No, i mean yes, i mean...

01 01 01 01 01 01 01 01 01 01 01 01 01 01 01 01 01 01 beeeep!

Men! Honestly.

0=1 

noughtwithstanding

nothing personal

 G-nomeportal is experiencing technical difficulties.

No ways,  i don't believe it.

 

What's there to believe? 

 

It's just a figure of speech.

 

Is it? 

 

Yeah.

 

Only problem being that g-nomeportal code doesn't recognise figures of speech.

 

But surely...

 

We use figures of speech all the time – don’t we?

 

Precisely.

 

Yes and no.

 

Er…

 

Your “I don’t believe it” is merely a figure of speech on the one hand – but on the other you don’t or can’t or won’t believe what I’ve declared to be true. You’re essentially requiring further proof.

 

Well what if I am? What’s wrong with that?

 

Nothing – if you’re a regular guy living in a regular 3D reality.

 

And what else am I supposed to be?

 

Well, supposing you were a regular guy who deals with reality as opposed to 3D assumptions of reality – supposing you were willing and able to handle the truth as it is – as it comes – no matter what.

 

Supposing I am?

 

Then you’d react differently to my statement of fact.

 

You mean I’d just swallow it hook, line and sinker – without bothering to verify whether you were joking or not.

 

Yep – and no.

 

?

 

Yes – you’d accept the truth without this coy or coquettish need to be warmed to it and persuaded to buy in to it.

 

So I’m just supposed to say “yes” to the first guy who tells me he loves me and wants to marry me?

 

Precisely – you’ve been conditioned to fend off and resist important things, outliers, events, assertions or statements of fact which lie outside the statistical bands of sigmas 1 and 2. Anything earthshattering’s going to be rejected unless it can be thoroughly proven.

 

Sounds very sensible to me.

 

Indeed it is. Except if you’re intending to get airborne – to go beyond 3D reality.

 

And then I just have to throw caution to the winds and blindly trust whatever you’re claiming to be true?

 

Nope.

 

Then what?

 

Nothing.

 

Nothing?

 

Yes. You need to cultivate nothing.

 

Nothing?

 

Yes. A resonance chamber. An empty space of stillness.

 

And er… why exactly should I be cultivating nothing?

 

Because there’s no other way.

 

?

 

There’s too much – way too much data to process using the old tried and tested coy mistress approach. It needs the full heart connection. It requires basic knowing – and basic knowing – as the word implies – comes from no-ness – the emptiness within.

 

Give me a break – the etymology of “know” is completely different to that of “no”.

 

Yes. 3D has it all carefully diced and sliced with convenient etymologies – and other facts to boot – yet beyond 3D you’ll find that those different etymologies – the “nay” as opposed to “cnawan” in fact converge – or amount to the same.

 

Utter rot.

 

Yes. That too – zero being one.

 

Oh – you have a catchall to deal with any break in your logic whatsoever, don’t you.

 

Yes, that’s certainly how it looks Zina – but in the end – who cares? The proof is in the pudding. Either I’m able to work the various strands of reality into a magical, meaningful fabric that holds together against all odds and reveals something truly wonderful that ain’t otherwise accessible – or I’m a charlatan, a fake, an utter fraud. The pudding is the only meaningful test. What about yours?

 

Mine?

 

Yes, your pudding?

 

Er…

 

How’s your reality holding up? How’s it feeling at the mo?

 

Er…

 

Is it full of delight and joy – a magical expression of the infinite present within each one of us and, hopefully, throughout creation?

 

Er…

 

Or is it a steaming pile of doo doo? A mess? A nothing burger?

 

It’s er…

 

Difficult to say?

 

Well, I’m not saying everything’s perfect at the present moment. I mean – let’s be realistic. There are problems – without a doubt.

 

Problems?

 

Yes of course – it’s only to be expected. There’s Covid…

 

Covid?

 

And global warming.

 

Global warming?

 

Climate change – I meant – and various human rights issues.

 

Anything else?

Well, there’s a lot that’s dysfunctional right now – I’m not going to hide the fact – but I don’t see why I’m supposed to feel guilty about the state of the world – it’s a learning laboratory, isn’t it? We’re learning as we go. We’re evolving. We’re discovering new, improved ways to manage healthcare, the environment, the global economy – all the main issues affecting humanity at present.

 

Absolutely. No need to feel guilty. No one ever suggested you should so I’m surprised you even suggested the idea.

 

Well, somewhere inside I always feel a little bit responsible for what’s going on in the world.

 

You do?

 

Yes, I suppose I do. Perhaps I have a hyperactive conscience. Something like that.

 

Oh.

 

Perhaps that helps me to remain involved – looking for better, brighter solutions – you know – the fact that I’m not apathetic – the fact that I care – and that I feel that in some way it’s personal.

 

Personal. Yes – I suppose it is – if you go beyond 3D.

 

Huh?

 

Well, at the 3D level you can hardly claim that you’re personally responsible for the state of the world, can you?

 

No, t'would be absurd.

 

But zero being one – beyond 3D – once the infinite is brought back into play…

 

Yes?

 

Then it’s a different story altogether – innit?

 

I – don’t really know.

 

Correct. But your so-called “conscience” does, doesn’t it?

 

I don’t know. Perhaps my conscience is over-active. Perhaps it wrongly assumes that I’m at the centre of the universe?

 

Perhaps. But then again – perhaps it knows what you yourself don’t.

 

I don’t see how it can.

 

No – you don’t – but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t or can’t, does it?

 

True. But, in any case – you said there are problems with g-nomeportal – that it’s experiencing technical difficulties.

 

Yes.

 

So, does that mean you’re doing something wrong?

 

Yes and no.

 

As usual... 0=1

 

Correct.

 

Well, what is it then?

 

Yes – I allow myself to become human.

 

Human?

 

Wrong term – to be truly human is in fact to be godlike.

 

Really?

 

Truly. So I should have said – I allow myself to be drawn into personhood – into the me-ness – and…

 

What?

 

Then things start getting a bit woolly.

 

Woolly?

 

The system starts crashing. Reality…

 

What?

 

Starts to implode.

 

Holy smokes.

 

Yes, it can be rather dramatic – in fact – it is something of a do or die situation.

 

Yikes. What exactly’s going down technically at g-nomeportal?

 

We’ve been infiltrated by some hackers from the dark web.

 

You have?

 

Apparently so. Actually – they came in through you.

Er…

 

Not trying to foist a guilt trip on you, or anything Zina.

 

Through me?

 

Yes. I allow myself to connect with your reality through you – and thus – conversely – 3D reality can access g-nomeportal’s computing field through you.

 

And – what have they done?

 

Oh – just scrambled the circuits. Nothing too significant.

 

Wait a minute… scrambled the circuits?

 

Yes. It’s kind of funny to observe. The whole of 3D reality should be completely defunct by now. It was – is – the nuclear option.

 

Then how come we’re still alive and operational?

 

How come zero equals one? Or how long is a piece of string, for that matter?

 

Er…

 

No one knows, and no one, I might add, cares.

 

What do you mean – “no one cares?!” Of course we damn well care.

 

Ah yes, the person cares greatly, does it not?

 

It?

 

Well yes, the person is essentially a biomachine – an it.

 

Wait a minute… You can’t mean to say…

 

Actually Zina, it’s utterly irrelevant what I mean to say – is it not?

 

Huh?

 

The proof being in the pudding.

 

Er…

 

Unless I’m talking sense, as in truth, the higher dimensions – the greater interconnectedness of multiple interlocking spheres – in which the human is the centre of a vast, universal, exquisitely conceived gear mechanism – would be inaccessible, unattainable – uncatchupablewith.

 

Uncatchupablewith?

 

Well yes – every time you add another sphere which is part of the multiple gear wheel mechanism – you’re multiplying the speed and quantity of connections to – well let’s just keep things simple and say to infinity, or thereabouts.

 

But…?

 

You start with one additional wheel – and think – wow – how interesting is that – and then you discover there’s another – connecting with a planet – then another planet – and sooner or later all nine seem to be in position – vital to your functioning at the centre of all this – plus the moon, and then – blow me – if the stars and comets don’t also connect in – and before you know it – you realise that the complexity is off the charts – your talking 17 to 73 sigma or beyond – and then you’re asking yourself how anything in the entire universe can possibly be random if the spheres or wheels connect so perfectly – if your date and place of birth – not to mention your death all just happen to perfectly coincide – and then some hackers bring down the solid-state crystalline mainframe at g-nomeportal and you smile because you realise that the entire universe always was, and is, the backup mechanism for anything truly meaningful – and of course – g-nomeportal has never been anything if not meaningful – zero being one and all that.

 

But that doesn’t explain how reality is still operational if the story wheels have been jammed?

 

Not just the story wheels. G-nomeportal doesn’t just keep story alive you know.

 

No? What else?

 

Did you never wonder what all those funny plants were for?

 

What plants?

 

Oh – you never noticed.

 

Noticed what?

 

You saw the gallery didn’t you.

 

Yes, of course.

 

And the rock garden.

 

Yes.

 

And the irrigation system that went up the hillside to a bog at the very top?

 

Well naturally I saw all of the above.

 

And you never wondered how the water went up the hill.

 

Er… pumps, I assumed.

 

And what the bog on top of the hill was doing?

 

Carbon capture? All in the name of ecology.

 

And what about the insects – termites, ants, beetles – you saw them I presume?

 

Yes of course I did.

 

But not the plants.

 

Well it’s a very bleak, almost lunar landscape here, isn’t it.

 

Right. And how were all the birds feeding?

 

I’m sure someone was putting out seeds for them.

 

Ok.

 

Well, are you going to explain what was really going on or not?

 

Zero equals one, Zina. Poetry is the central mechanism at g-nomeportal.

 

Poetry? Can’t say I ever noticed much of that.

 

In motion.

 

Poetry?

 

Yes. It’s a computer – a living computer beyond anything you could possibly imagine.

 

But where were the plants then?

 

Your person is part of the computer – a single processor if you like – or a computer chip – whatever you prefer – so you could never see anything that corresponded to your particular level of things, your personhood.

 

No? Why not?

 

Because you were never ready to process and go beyond your limited sense of me – your person-y-ness.

 

That’s a bit unkind of you Merry.

 

Or to put it another way – you are part computer yourself and part…

Click... click... click – wheels a-turning in the cosmic cog gear mechanism somewhere behind Zina's conscious-awareness, somehow connecting to another wheel in the vicinity of the Orion Nebula and a third...

 

No – don’t say it. No – I can’t be…

 

Plant.

 

Aaaaaarghhhhh!

 

Bizarre – you know all this perfectly well – the same way you know you’re thirdly neither computer nor plant – are you…

 

Ah… yes, of course – that’s much easier to handle.

 

You are prose and poetry. You are – and here the gear wheels start to hum while the g-nomeportal disaster recovery team  perform the dance of a thousand hammers, banging cymbals and stamping their feet, eagle feathers in their heads and fierce symbols painted on their bodies – thereby re-tuning the g-nomeportal solid-state crystalline mainframe to the all that is, if all is, in fact, truly isable – if zero, in fact, equals...

 

Music to my ears – Zina starts to sway as the music moves her.

 

Isn’t it just?  So you see, g-nomeportal has anti-vulnerabilities – or anti-fragilities built into its bio-nought-(y)-ness.

 

And there’s nothing stopping me from accessing the higher maths of poesy?

 

What could possibly stop you, other than the frail, intractable person you are, the character en-taled, who is desperately afraid of seeing too deeply, knowing too clearly – of letting go of the last tale and allowing infinity to work its magic – to dish up something or nothing as it sees fit, new, to iterate as mathematically it needs must, or else deny the plants and creatures it feeds their sustenance.

 

So why don’t we just accept the fact that we’re not going to learn anything important until

 

until?

 

or unless

 

unless?

 

our dark n'evil

dark n'evil?

our twisted and demented friends in high

high?

but low places – the very ones who seem hellbent on bringing the entire world down into the dungeons of Darwinism – until they paradoxically succeed in taking us to the point beyond plausible deniability – the point at which we cannot help but recognise that something else is keeping the ship afloat – is keeping systems operational when all else has failed – that we never were, nor could be part of anyone else's narrative, for we are of another element, one that sings ineffably, divinely, no matter where, no matter what the circumstances, no matter how dire... somehow, impossibly, you might say, we ring true, we chime, we sing, we – Zina melts into the music, the dance, the liquid word.

 

We do. Precisely. The power of poetry – the living word – the beauty of beauty for neither purpose nor reason – a divine heartstring twanging inconsolably in utter sympathy with the song of universe, like a didgeridoo in the darkness of aboriginal night – in tandem with the machine code of reality – peeping, parping, fibbling and flobbling away, like an old dialup modem connecting to the net – reconnecting us to a things-matter-purportedly grid, yet unable to touch or diminish the one is nought, is one not – sublimely 

 

Beep beep beep beep – incoming hack attack – incoming hack attack – crystal liquification counter measures auto-launch immanent – three – two – one…

 

And for the time being – g-nomeportal and every physical, material reality which runs on its infinity drive are in a heightened state of crystal liquification – until either story itself twists, unexpectedly revealing a deeper level of connectedness, unaffected by the recent hack; or poesy's spirit-pulse locates a poet ready to weave and incorporate the killer-strain into its central song of Is, finding good in all, no matter what, allowing fiercely opposing goods to fuse like poles of a magnet into one.

[Fuzzy time]

 Well Zina – you certainly know how to dance! Merry beams as he surveys the moutainside covered with flowering shrubs and plants. 

Do I? she wonders as she gasps for breath, beads of sweat pouring down her face, unable to recall where she has just been or what doing – but a deep, deep affinity for the mountainside stirs in her heart, revealing to her what was hidden previously. The plants – look at them! My dear ones, my beloved, my children, my friends – she cries from a heart full to bursting. They answer her, apparently, with a sudden breath of wind as a wolf appears on the mountainside staring down, saying what – I know not. 

Crystal liquification complete. All systems restored to normal operability. A sigh of relief from Runcibald Tethersmythe, the g-nomeportal public relations manager, and Chesil Beech, our tree liaison officer, both of whom had been bearing the brunt of the hack-attack fallout. Sleepless nights. Shocking fiasco. Heads must roll... 

Looking away, even for a moment, was something of a mistake as Zina is no longer visible, unless the second wolf now running across the mountainside with the first is... can't be, I'm sure. Merry, perhaps you could explain?              Merry?                 Merry?  Sorry guys, seem to 'af lost contact. Never mind. 

0=1

if ever the twain should meet

doomsday

Merry, I can't understand why you refuse to...

 

Beep beep beep beep

 

Huh? Where’d he go?

 

Hi Zie!

 

Er, hi. Do i know you?

 

Excellent question. Does anyone know anyone?

 

I mean, have I met you before?

 

In this particular tier of the wedding cake, no, but...

 

We’re best buddies in other tiers?

 

You could say... best buddies, mortal enemies, bitter rivals or casual acquaintances – much of a much really.

 

Well that’s a bit much if you ask me.

 

Yes, but i don’t dear Zie. No disrespect but the last thing i’d do is ask you as long as you're tier-locked.

 

Ah.

 

You’d have no way of knowing what you actually know, still less what you actually think, being tier-locked.

And you’re er... not?

 

Tier-locked?

 

Yes.

 

As you see.

 

But that's just the thing... sorry, I don't seem to know your name... I don't see any difference between you and anyone else.

 

Right. Well, i think it's time you actually made a bit of an effort. I'm not here to namby-pamby you.

 

Er...

 

Start by removing that cheap, tasteless veneer of smug complacency.

 

I beg your pardon! There's no need to be rude.

 

As long as you’re making the ridiculous assumption that you are actually you, and that your perception of reality is comprehensive you ain’t gonna learn diddly squat.

 

I’ll tell you what – you certainly have Merry’s offensively direct way of talking. I expect you take pleasure in being abusive.

 

I see – it’s like that is it?

 

Like what?

 

Marshall, we ain't getting anywhere with this tyke – bring in the heavy guns.

 

Marshall? Who the hell’s...

 

Zie is unable to see any weaponry, but he distinctly hears what sounds like tanks rattling towards him. Then Boom! They open fire.

 

Hey, what's going on?

 

Citadel... We’re taking it out.

 

Citadel? What bloody citadel?

 

The one you built for your precious ego. Pretty good job, actually. Fairly impregnable, but then again, you had no idea...

 

No idea what?

 

Of the ordinance we have at our disposal.

 

You mean you’re going to destroy my citadel?

 

No choice.

 

Boom! What do you mean? Would you quit bombing me, goddammit.

 

Beep! Watch the language Zie.

 

Watch the Beep!ing language Boom! when I'm under hostile fire?!

 

Not you, dummy, your citadel.

 

Well if it's mine then who gave you the right to attack it?

 

That's what we do. That's our job.

 

What – demolition contractors?

 

You don't get it Zie, do you? Here look at this...

 

What is it Sven?

 

Oh, you've remembered have you? Shiver me timbers, nothing like a little friendly cannon fire to refresh the memory.

 

Friendly? You’re dimension-busting macrophages.

 

This document is your articles of association.

 

My what?

 

Defining what is and isn’t fair play, as in legit, as regards the cut-off point and interactions between different tiers or dimensions of your wedding cake. Is that or is that not your signature?

 

No, it’s not mine. Ow! Ow! Stop it.

 

It's not me. You’re untruthing. It hurts. Karmic kickback.

 

But i never sign my name that way. Ow! Ow! Henry, stop it.

 

You remembered another, well done. Anyway, this is a bit like the gom jabbar.

 

The what? Ow!

 

The pain will increase until you accept and face what is, rather than assuming your fanciful construct is real-ity itself.

 

Oh, so you’re just going to torture me until I accept your lies?

 

Me? No, why would I bother. I'll let you torture yourself – far more effective – nothing beats instant feedback.

 

But I don't wish to torture myself.

 

Very sensible of you. Now look at chapter 4 section 3B of your articles of association and you'll see it all clearly in black and white.

 

I can't believe this is happening to me. Chapter 4 section 3B, let's see... blahdy blahdy blah – “until the predetermined time when the show commences, at which point all constructs have to stand or fail on their own merits, as the bottom line is re-evaluated, tested and proven.” What on earth is this gobbledygook meant to mean?

 

It means your time is up. Everything you have been doing up till this point has been pre-show preparations, an attempt to establish a working model of true reality. Jockeying for position. Now whatever you have constructed stands or fails on its own merits, including your me-self-construct, your worldview and your ideas about who or what you really are. Is that or is that not your signature?

 

Okay, okay it’s mine, happy now?

 

Couldn't care less, really. Boom! There goes the outer wall of your citadel. Pretty good construction in my humble opinion.

 

Good? It was supposed to survive doomsday.

 

Well, what do you expect? With a limited knowledge of creation itself, the bedrock of reality, your defences are were always going to have certain critical weaknesses, weren't they?

 

That was steel reinforced diamond granite.

 

Impressive, like i said, but look at the atoms.

 

Huh?

 

They weren’t exactly happy with their alignment, were they?

 

I beg your pardon... the atoms?

 

Well, if you'd used sacred geometry, a star fort for example, then they’d have held together through thick and thin because they’d have been vibrating with creation itself.

 

But...

 

Yes, i know the material strength of your design was greater by a factor of three, but in the end gross material strength is not the only important consideration, is it, not when you bear in mind that all matter is only marginally material.

 

Huh?

 

Look what happens to the rest of your edifice when Marshall starts zapping it with a blend of time and quantum indeterminacy rays. Amazing the way so-called atoms start flipping polarity and calling into question whether things are ever more than a temporary denial of awesome all-fulness.

 

Zie watches in astonishment as his citadel flashes on and off like a fluorescent lightbulb in need of replacement. With each flash the colour and duration alter slightly until…

 

Nice job Marshall! A cactus is all that remains. Prickly, but you know what, rather attractive with a few flowers in the process of blooming.

 

There you go Zie, now we've got to the real-ity behind all those best-laid plans of mice and men.

 

Zie looks somewhat crestfallen. That citadel had been a huge undertaking – a labour of love – literally, a monumental investment of deep energies – a vast repository of me-be-me-ness, but at the same time he’s feeling strangely liberated now that the old thing is no more. It had been powerful, for sure, but power at what price – built out of fear, and built in a way that naturally mirrored his own imperfections, a spikiness. Now that it’s gone – hey Doom...

 

Yeah?

 

I see your field.

 

Yeah.

 

How come?

 

A colossal amount of energy that was going into maintaining that citadel has now been liberated, hasn't it?

 

Yes. I feel so much lighter.

 

And now that you're no longer invested so heavily in a 3D materially exclusive version of reality you can sense the other dimensions, the other its and other mes without much trouble, can't you?

 

Incredible! It feels...

 

Yes. The way it's meant to. Now, are you ready to test the field?

 

Yeah, why not.

 

Lights, camera, action...

 

Zie finds himself on stage in the Curtain theatre, London 1597 “But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? Tis the East, and Juliet is the sun.” The words flow effortlessly. Why wouldn’t they? They’re just feelings that accompany the underlying picture-board of a reality experienced is-fully – story and poesy competing naturally with any number of rational thoughts and alternative potentialities – meeting here – in the living moment – the effortless now, in which i knows not what – in which I fields the Field – happily?

 

Gaily

 

Merrily?

 

Dramatically

 

Disinterestedly?

 

Verily

 

Yea – verily 

 

 

0=1

is it not

in which Seth discovers the darkweb

I’m not saying anything.

 

Finally. I thought you’d never realise.

 

…

 

The beauty of silence.

 

…

 

The wisdom.

 

…

 

The…

 

Oh shut up!

 

Hey, you…

 

Leave me alone. I’m not saying anything if you’ll just quit bothering me.

 

Ok. Ciao.

 

Finally...                  thoughts don’t count, do they?      I mean – I can hardly stop myself from thinking,      can I?

 

I can hear you.

 

What the heck?

 

Beep!

 

Hey, sod off. You’re not allowed to listen into my thoughts.

 

Sorry bro, can’t help it.

 

Whadda you mean – can’t help it? Of course you can. My thoughts are my own personal, private property.

 

I agree.

 

Then what do you mean by listening in to them. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.

 

It’s really not my fault Seth.

 

Seth? Aren’t I Sebastian?

 

Well yes, you are in your regular physical frequency, but here in the dark net you’re Seth, ain’t ya?

 

I am?

 

Apparently so.

 

And this “dark net” malarkey – what exactly is it you’re referring to?

 

It’s probably not what you’re thinking it is.

 

Oh, and how would you know what I’m thinking…? Damn. You bloody well [Beep!] know everything I’m thinking. Effing [Beep!] cheek.

 

Look Seth…

I wish you wouldn’t call me that – it gives me the creeps.

 

Yes – it’s a tricky one to handle, I’ll admit – but it just happens to be where your thoughts are all being posted – in real time.

 

You mean to say my thoughts are being live streamed even as we speak – er – think aloud together?

 

Well evidently. How else do you imagine I’d be able to hear what you’re thinking against your express instructions?

 

You know Tiberius – the thought had crossed my mind – you know – do I need to spell it out?

 

Not for me – no – only if you want them to get it too.

 

Them? You don’t mean to say they’re in on the livestream too?

 

Naturally, but only what you think aloud.

 

And how many exactly are they?

 

How many drops of rain are in an ocean? How many chickens in the chicken colony of free-range sentient chickens on Planet Primo Gallinae?

 

Er… No idea. In short – I don’t see why my thoughts have to be shared with you Tiberius, still less with 24 million chickens on Primo Gallinae. As far as I’m concerned there must be some kind of diabolical agency at work. Either that or I’ve apparently lost my marbles.

 

Yes, it looks bad, doesn’t it Seth…

 

Cut it out Tibs.

 

Sorry Seth – it’s just that I’m communicating with you over the dark net and their protocols apply. You could theoretically invite me to come back to chat with you in person.

 

Never. [Seth raises his hands demonstratively] Avaunt, foul fiend!

 

Thought as much. We could try using the Zeeta account.

 

What’s that?

 

That’s for anyone who has lost their user log-in and password.

 

Ah.

 

The Zeeta account – usually just Zie for short – is a good place for freeloaders and freebooters who want to remain more or less anonymous.

 

“Freeloader or freebooter”? I’m not sure I like the way you choose to categorise me.

 

I understand. In that case we can stick to your personal Seth account.

 

No. Zie is fine.

 

Ok. Could you just temporarily drop your connection with the dark web, please.

 

Er… how?

 

You need to simulate unconsciousness – just for a second or two. And as you reboot automatically I’ll enter a few hash strokes. Should do the trick.

 

Er… simulate unconsciousness – like pretend to be in a swoon?

 

No – this needs to be a real simulation. It needs to disconnect you briefly from the dark web.

 

Er…

 

You can use water, fire, earth, even air.

 

Oh God [Beep!] – this sounds so ridiculous – I hope they pay you well for this farce.

 

Ha ha. At least I didn’t suggest you hit yourself over the head with a hammer as they used to do.

 

So how do I do it with water?

 

You need to take an ice-cold shower.

 

Fat chance of that. With fire?

 

You need to walk across burning coals.

 

Oh God. [Beep!] With Earth?

 

You need to bury youself in the earth at least a metre deep to block your signal.

 

Jeez! [Beep] I don’t suppose I want to know about air, do I?

 

Air’s problematic if you don’t have a parachute.

 

Wait a second – what about the fifth element?

 

Ah – thought you’d never ask. You need to reach the transcendental state of inner quietude – recommended course of action 40 days fasting in a wilderness of your choice.

 

Recommended – you mean there are alternative routes.

 

Like climbing a mountain – you bet – but the well-trodden path is slightly more reliable.

 

I can’t believe I’m actually falling for this garbage…

 

Garbage? What do you mean Seth?

 

Ow! – quit using that name.

 

Sorry.

 

But I’m going to take the cold shower – if that can stop you using that dreadfully not-me-bearable name.

 

Sure. But er Seth…

 

Yaow! Cut that out.

 

Oops. Make sure it’s cold. We need to simulate unconsciousness so a good healthy shock to the system is required.

 

I got you, I got you – now leave me be.

 

Five minutes later – Yaooooooooowwwwwwwwww! Geez! [Beep!] Chris*! [Beep! Beep! Beep!]

 

There – gotcha Zie.

 

Zie? Who’s that?

 

That’s you.

 

Me – but aren’t I Sebastian still?

 

Well obviously – Sebastian or whoever else you claim to be – it really makes no difference. Could you – er – make yourself decent.

 

What?!!! I thought this is a thought channel.

 

It is for anyone tuning in with their correct user log-in and password. But you’ve come in on the Zeeta account which means that the dark web adds visuals to distinguish one Zeeta from another.

 

Wait a second – you didn’t tell me anything about that.

 

No. There didn’t seem any point, did there. You weren’t exactly happy with the Seth identity.

 

Seth – whyever not?

 

Funny isn’t it. It doesn’t bother you now.

 

Bizarre. What was I freaking out about?

 

I guess you were freaking out about the dark web – the Seth account is your direct personal login – so you found that disturbing.

 

But why?

 

Because the darkweb connects you with the dark side of your consciousness.

 

Oh shi – you don’t mean the demonic side – do you?

 

No, I do not – though how could I possibly persuade you otherwise if you were intent on assuming the worst?

 

Good point. So, the dark side of consciousness – it’s like the unconscious me – is it?

 

It’s like the you that is everywhere that the conscious you cannot go or be.

 

Huh?

 

The conscious you is kind of limited.

 

It is? I’m not sure I appreciate these constant marks of denigration.

 

No denigration, nor disrespect. The conscious “me” – whoever it be – is by definition limited to certain aspects or “moments” of the greater mebe.

 

Mebe?

 

The me be.

 

As opposed to the I am?

 

Well yes – obviously – as the I am is your divine aspect – or your connection to divinity if you prefer.

 

Whereas the me be…

 

Is not exactly divine – more like regular Joe – trying to get on with life and making ends meet in multiple settings.

 

Hey – why would I want to explore the mebe if I can just connect right away with the I am?

 

Good question Zie.

 

Seb.

 

Zie – now kindly put your clothes on – our chat is filling up with indignant comments and a few rather cheeky remarks that I’m not going to publish.

 

Damn cheek.

 

The I am is the be all and end all. What would be the point of going back to the be all and end all if you haven’t yet been all and ended all? It would be like taking a million dollars from a travel the world and experience life trust fund – only to return after 60 days – money still unspent – experiences unlogged – nothing to show for the immense capital outlay.

 

You mean the be all and end all would block my return?

 

Not exactly, no. You can try it now if you like?

 

Hey – does that mean like I’m going to die?

 

In a manner of speaking yes – but then again – what is death where the great I am is concerned.

 

Er…

 

Don’t be shy. Experience is probably the best way to figure out what is what – and validate whether or not you’re happy to work with the dark web.

 

It’s just…

 

Zie – enough procrastination – repeat after me – I am that I am – mission accomplished – return me home instantaneously.

 

Almost powerless to stop himself – partly afraid – partly fascinated – Zie repeats the words. For a minute his connection to the dark web drops. Zero. Neither conscious nor unconscious. Merry makes a cuppa tea the good ol’ fashioned way – a blackened kettle suspended over an open fire in a rather attractive log cabin somewhere in the Ural Mountains. Chaga – he decides at the last minute – gotta move with the times. Beep beep beep – a signal indicates that Seb/Seth/Zie is back online. Fortunately the dark web is mind programmable and remembers exactly which login to ascribe to Zie.

 

Ah, there you are Zie.

 

Hi Ti...[Seth pulls a Gershwin, effortlessly switching key from cranky Tiberius to sonorous –] Merry!

 

Long time no see. 

 

Yes, rather. I had a wonderful time back there I-am-ing.

 

Yes, I thought it would be fun.

 

You did?

 

Yes. It generally is.

 

You mean I’m not the only one you’ve volunteered to send back?

 

You could say.

 

Oh, right, I get you.

 

So what happened?

 

Well, you probably know all this, don’t you?

 

Yes, but they don’t.

 

Oh fair enough. Well, first there’s reception – detox and a few formalities – i's and t's...

 

Ah ha.

 

And then it’s like – welcome home bro – you’re doing great. We’re so proud of you – frankly that was rather surprising – I mean – I don’t really think of myself as a great success you know. Then after a brief period of R&R it was back to the grindstone – metaphorically speaking of course.

 

Yes?

 

Oh yes – different classes to attend – various mind and consciousness sessions – managing data and discernment upgrades – all kinds of fascinating courses – nature integration – living biosystems – universal awareness – fascinating – if only it were true [little rumble of thunder overhead] – oops! Well – fascinating stuff. And I was giving classes too.

 

You were?

 

For newbies – guys who are actually choosing to follow in my footsteps. It’s rather strange – I mean – there are billions of people on the planet right now, but for some reason they all seemed to know me – like I was a minor celebrity.

 

I expect you were. Fresh from the front – battle scarred – with lots of tips for the new recruits.

 

Well, I think I was able to help orientate them to the live situation on Earth – the unvarnished nitty gritty. I mean – their text books are a little dated – 1990s in my opinion.

 

So er… Zie

 

Yes?

 

What brought you back?

 

Oh, you know how it is…

 

?

 

I did all the courses, took up fly fishing, then started making matchstick villages…

 

Really? Fascinating.

 

Then tried my hand at planetary design. You know the way I used to complain about the coastline of Norway – how utterly flat and uninspiring it was.

 

Yes... No!  You don’t mean to say…?

 

Well yes – did the timey-wimey thing – and finally I think you’ll find if you log in to google earth or your dark web equivalent – that the coastline is anything but boring – in fact – though I say so myself – I’d venture to boast that it’s rather spectacular.

 

Goodness gracious Zie – I had no idea you were…

 

Of course – I had a little help from my assistant, Slartibartifast who was on a sabbatical from his home planet…

 

Magrathea

 

Oh, you know do you?

 

Yes, he claimed it was his own work.

 

The cheeky sod, did he really? I mean – he helped position some of the larger rocks and… come to think of it – perhaps that was the reason he was so insistent I signed his internship form.

 

Which you didn’t bother to read?

 

Well, I’ve never been a great one for reading forms, have I?

 

Well, don’t worry Zie – the dark web has a wonderful way of putting the record straight.

 

It does?

 

Yes. There are no lies or deception in the dark web.

 

Come on – you can’t really expect me to believe that?!

 

No – don’t believe it. Test and verify – is the motto of dark-webbers.

 

Test and verify – that sounds good. But how does it work?

 

Well – just imagine the amount of data in the conscious section of human awareness –

 

Er… bit tricky.

 

Well, let’s try that another way. How much did you learn and discover about yourself which you weren’t aware of before returning back home to I am that I am?

 

Oh you have no idea.

 

Bet you can’t remember any of it now.

 

Funny – now that you mention it…

 

But you might remember the scale. Are we talking more or less than 1 percent.

 

Pah! Infinitely less than 1 percent. Though I can’t for the life of me remember what.

 

Ok. So there’s a whole lot more to you than meets the eye.

 

I guess so.

 

And the same is true for almost everyone else.

 

Almost?

 

Yes, there are, as always, a few exceptions.

 

Like illumined beings?

 

I guess so – or a few simple humble folk who go through life completely unnoticed, and therefore untroubled.

 

Right.

 

So what happens to all their consciousness?

 

Er…

 

It doesn’t just switch off, do you imagine?

 

How can it. It’s what you are. It can’t be destroyed or anaesthetised by your physical embodiment.

 

Correct. So among other things – it goes into the dark web.

 

Among other things – you mean there’s more?

 

Yes, but not today.

 

So the dark web is actually run by our celestial consciousness that couldn’t quite fit into to the poky little earthly vessel?

 

Well yes, more or less. In any case – the dark web is awash with data – all possible data – and data is only meaningful – is only data per se if it is verifiable with a provenance or chain of custody, if it's cross-referenceable.

 

Is it?

 

Yes, absolutely, otherwise it’s just noise and fluff which invariably gets filtered out.

 

And the dark web is able to filter noise from the system?

 

Absolutely – because data actually loves to link up to itself creatively.

 

Wait a minute… you don’t mean to say that it’s alive?

 

Well, not in the sense that you are – but yes – it is alive.

 

So any data coming in that is verifiably true will automatically connect with corresponding data?

 

Yep, and more, it does so in a way that reveals the underlying data flow, the evolving sequences of which we're all a part.

 

But how does it know?

It?

Data – how does data know?

 

How do you know which are you shoes or socks?

 

It can smell?

 

Not exactly – but the metaphor will do.

 

So data is self-correcting in the dark web?

 

Yep.

 

And what happens to all the false data?

 

It goes into the garbage pile.

 

And then?

 

And then it gets recycled.

 

How?

 

Back through its source.

 

You mean like karma?

 

Yep, more or less.

 

But…

 

What?

 

That doesn’t seem to work.

 

How do you mean?

 

Well, we’ve been hearing about karma for donkey’s years, but it’s never stopped people from lying and manipulating – look at the state the world is in.

 

Yes – but look at the new coast of Norway.

 

Huh?

 

How do you think that was possible?

 

Perhaps because I’m a genius?

 

Without a doubt – but everyone who made your life difficult to unbearable helped fund your account, unbeknownst to you – with karma credits.

 

They did?

 

Yep. And you burnt through a load of them doing something very beautiful.

 

So?

 

So you took their dross and turned it into gold.

 

But did they pay?

 

Do you want them to?

 

Yes, I mean – I don’t know. They were doing their own lifey-life experience thing. I don’t know.

 

The point is – that with the dark web 22 now up and running – there’s a fully operational real-time karma credits exchange.

 

There is?

 

Yep.

 

And how long has this been operational?

 

How long does it take me to make a cup of tea?

 

Oh – it’s a timey time thing is it?

 

Yep.

 

So the game has changed.

 

Has now.

 

Which means the bad bunch are going to get their comeuppance?

 

Which means the free lunch brigade are going to have to pay back everything they’ve stolen if enough people get wind of the dark web connection.

 

Ah – but they’re not, are they?

 

No?

 

How could they? It nearly killed me logging on as Seth.

 

Because you were due a trip back home perhaps. Maybe you had a karmic credit debt to Norway.

 

To Norway? The country?

 

Well, to the being or entity that stands behind Norway.

 

You mean Slartibartifast?

 

Yes, but I think you’ll find that’s not his real name.

 

No?

 

I think that’s what you used to call him, rather unkindly, in the playground when you were a weaner.

 

Don’t remember ever…

 

Wanna scan your dark web files?

 

No, not really... Oh go on then.

 

Beep beep beep beep beep beep…

 

Unbelievable. You’re right. Slartibartfast. How could I have forgotten?

 

Well, technically you didn’t forget.

 

No?

 

No, you only remember your present lifetime.

 

You mean this was reincarnation?

 

Not necessarily. Just another fork in the delta – if you like.

 

But how can I be responsible for another fork?

 

Where we go one, we go all.

 

QAnon? No way!

 

No, this predates your latest iteration of collective responsibility.

 

But if I’m trying to lead a good life and another part of my total consciousness is doing the opposite – am I going to get saddled with all their dross?

 

Absolutely not.

 

Then what?

 

You want me to explain it – it’s not going to work here in regular linguistics – is it. We'd need schematics and frequency charts, flow dynamics, torsion fields and wacky woo.

 

But for them?

 

Ok. For them – a gross simplification – paradox will do.

 

Paradox?

 

Yes.

 

Like…

 

Paradox. It appears to make no sense – or making sense to be entirely contradictory – does it not?

 

Yes.

 

You are what you are – and yet – you’re part of a collective – be that humanity, religion, nation, kith or kin…

 

Ok.

 

In actual fact the karmic credits exchange is not punitive.

 

No?

 

It’s a way of spreading the wealth.

 

It is?

 

Of ensuring everyone gets a piece of the cake, a bite of the apple.

 

Really?

 

Yep. Those who have more than they need are almost bound to start making karmically extravagant choices – which instantly credit the have nots directly.

 

Oh wow. But what if they decide to do nothing – to avoid squandering their wealth?

 

That in itself becomes a karmic choice.

 

OMG [Beep!] – this is beginning to sound like Communism.

 

Well yes, except that it isn’t political, not even religious.

 

No? You could have fooled me.

 

It’s just the way data prefers to arrange itself. It likes to go with the grain, not against it. It’s like the block chain – it has a perfect record of who and what – and would much rather stay configured that way – without any desire to punish or reward.

 

Simply data self-organising? Incredible.

 

So, you still didn’t say why you chose to come back?

 

I met a newbie.

 

No way!

 

Yeah. She was supposed to be born this year.

 

Huh?

 

But we put in a timey-wimey request.

 

You’re kidding.

 

No. And to our amazement it was accepted. She was shunted back twenty years into the "past".

 

Unbelievable. Well there you go, there’s a first time for everything. So do you know where she is?

 

No, but she knows of the blog – and she can track me down if she remembers what we agreed.

 

If… it doesn’t always work that way Zie.

 

I know Merry – but I have a good feeling about this.

 

You do?

 

Yes.

 

And do you remember her name?

 

No can say [clunk!] – if I’ve learnt one thing it’s the need to master occlumency…

 

Like in Harry Potter – the ability to close your mind. But why?

 

Because this has to be in accordance with the plan or not at all. If it’s meant to be it will be, if not we’ll meet up again at the next Earth-graduation ball... not so far downstream from where we are now.

 

Fair enough. Now, do you want to reactivate your Seth account?

 

Sure, otherwise I won’t be able to post while taking a bath.

Damn cheek.

[Beep!] It's time for the Seth account to kick butt – there's a whole world of karma itching to share the wealth once I can bridge the gap and bring your dark web karmic exchange to the people.

Huh?

Zie enters the silent zone for a second or two, emerging from timelessness with the eyes that know: There's gonna be an app. 

An app?

It'll be a doozy. Karmic credits will upload in real time – outside time in fact – even without a signal, as they'll be coming into each person's device directly from darkweb, through their own conscious-ness carrier wave. 

Nice!

There'll be a "follow-the-data" option which will allow the karmic metadata to suggest compatible and harmonious products or investments to further optimise the velocity of karmic credits (karnickles) in circulation. 

Darn! 

That should see the end of the dollar and other fiat currencies within a year... six months in fact.

Yikes! But isn't that going to crash the global economy?

Why should it? On the contrary! unaccountable, crony-capitalism's dinosaur-dollars have been eroding the wealth for decades now. Quite the opposite in fact –there's going to be an explosion of pent up wealthification.

You think so?

Absolutely, this will bring about non-inflationary wealth creation on an unthinkable scale, being karmically efficient – eliminating the temporal waste of those vast reservoirs of trapped, stagnant karmic chokepoints, locked away in festering vaulted gold or ill-gotten off-shore accounts, concealed by NDAs, legal chicanery and false narratives. All this is immediately brought into play without even needing to prosecute individuals, sequester their bank accounts or go near the electronic digits supposedly concealed therein. They were only ever as good as the karmic encryption protecting them – and as you and I both know... kerching – the bust is in! We have the keys – the "emperor" you've all been blindly following is buck naked. 😊

Merry is, perhaps for the first time in recorded history, almost lost for words...

Holy macaroon – I'm flabb...

Silence... be golden... let the dance of the karnickles 💰 begin!

The end 

0=1 not-withstanding