sweeping the yard

 

So let me get this right… you’re not doing this – writing this blog for fame or fortune.

 

Kerchink.

 

You think I’m being slow witted, don’t you?

 

Not really.

 

But why would you go to all the trouble…

 

What trouble? It’s really no trouble at all.

 

To write all this…

 OM

 

If you’re not even getting paid to do so? I mean – it’s not exactly fun, is it, sitting in front of a computer for hours on end?

 

Ah… that’s what you’re getting at.

 

Well yes, isn’t it a reasonable question.

 

Of course it is.

 

Then what’s the objection?

 

No objection.

 

Then why the secrecy?

 

No secrecy whatsoever. I’m completely open and transparent in my dealings with you and all of humanity.

 

“All of humanity”?!

 

Ok – whoever is part of this.

 

But that’s simply untrue.

 

?

 

Writing just for the sake of writing.

 

Yes – that would be rather tiresome, I have to admit. Doing something for no good reason – just because one has nothing better to do.

 

So, perhaps it’s something spiritual? Like yoga or meditation?

 

Kerchink. Now you’re talking.

 

It’s a way of connecting with something deeper within yourself – is that it?

 

Very unidirectional of you.

 

Not within yourself. A way of connecting with higher spiritual forces? A presence?

 

That’s the other side of the pendulum. But you’re trying to squeeze this into convenient categories – the kind of categories that the mind likes to use to tick boxes and file everything neatly away.

 

And that’s a mistake – you’re saying?

 

A mistake – that’s just such a category. It’s what the mind does – automatically – when it’s trying to process things, when it’s trying to make sense of something that it finds hard to comprehend.

 

Well, I do find this hard to comprehend.

 

Naturally – in the same way you’d find music hard to comprehend if you only ever looked at notes rather than heard the sounds.

 

So…

 

So whatever I’m doing – you’ve had the good fortune to experience directly – so you definitely know more than you think you do – but that knowledge, or that awareness may not fit neatly into one of your squares – and that’s what the mind is programmed or required to do – in order to ensure that reality remains flat and manicured, like a carefully managed garden.

 

So… there’s stuff in what you’re doing which can’t be compressed, can’t be categorised, can’t be…

 

Naturally – there’s something natural in what I’m doing – which doesn’t conform to the requirements or specifications of a digital operating system. That’s not to say that you shouldn’t allow your mind to do its stuff – but if you’re aware of the process – aware that the mind wants to tidy everything neatly away, and that, in the process, it often converts data or experiences into file formats which basically sweep all that is alive and fresh, all that is really noteworthy under the rug of homogeneity – then you’d probably want to allow another space for stuff which can’t or shouldn’t really be processed in that way – to ensure that you still have access to the live feed, the direct experience.

 

Ok. But we’re getting off topic.

 

Are we?

 

Well yes, because I’m trying to figure out what’s really motivating you.

 

Ah that.

 

Precisely.

 

It could be tricky.

 

Why’s that?

 

Because you’re making basic assumptions which may be fundamentally mistaken.

 

I am? Like what?

 

Like the fact that I’m a guy writing things down.

 

But that’s exactly what you are.

 

Agreed. But if I were just a guy writing things down – then a. I wouldn’t – what would be the point? and b. if I did so, for no good reason – then I'm clearly wacky.

 

I don’t see why – lots of people like writing – poets for example.

 

Ah – yes – poets. And they’d be poets. So it’s ok.

 

Well yes – a poet would be a poet. Seems kind of obvious really.

 

And uncontroversial?

 

And uncontroversial.

 

But what exactly is a poet?

 

Ah – now there’s a question Seth.

 

…

 

No one really knows. Not exactly.

 

And yet we do, don’t we? We know a poet in the same way we know an artist or a composer – people who are working creatively – creating some kind of unique content that is more than simply content – that in some way needs to come through from up there – if the poet, artist or composer has a good enough connection.

 

Well yes – It’s just difficult to express exactly what a poet exactly is.

 

On the contrary – nothing could be simpler.

 

Really?

 

A poet is a man or woman who writes poetry.

 

Yes, but then we need to ask what is poetry, don’t we – because there are plenty of mediocre song writers, poets or hacks who churn out stuff that may superficially look like poetry…

 

But which isn’t.

 

Exactly.

 

So they’re not poets, in the same way there are lots of people who live their lives without ever really being alive – without shining eyes – without a shining heart, who aren't in fact human.

 

Oh. I’m not sure we want to go down that path, Seth.

 

No?

 

No. Let’s stay on topic.

 

Ok.

 

So you’re a kind of poet, are you?

 

If I do as a poet does – if I open a channel and allow the waters to flow.

 

Then a poet is someone who allows the real stuff, the living waters to flow? Who revitalises our world?

 

I guess so.

 

But doesn’t he or she need to write poetry?

 

Of course.

 

And this – isn’t exactly poetry, is it?

 

Correct.

 

Then you’re not exactly a poet, are you?

 

No, I’m not. But then again – if we’re talking about what things really are – the simple truth – then none of these labels really matter – because you’re allowing the mind to try and figure out whether this bird is actually a bird, rather than allowing the magic of bird to reveal itself to you.

 

And how exactly can the magic of bird reveal itself to me?

 

Good question? I don’t really know – though we could write about it and we might learn.

 

But why would I want to study the “magic of bird” as you put it – if I’m a scientist looking to understand the facts?

 

You wouldn’t. Your scientist doesn’t want to know anything much about the magic of things, does he (or she) – because very, very soon all his (or her) neat little categories and boxes are going to disintegrate like a house of cards.

 

Oh! Surely it can’t be that bad?

 

It’s neither bad nor good. The scientist has to fight to defend artificial borders, artificial boundaries, in the same way you need to pay far greater attention to words than to what’s actually going on in reality.

 

That’s a rather pessimistic view, if you don’t mind me saying.

 

Of course I don’t mind. I wouldn’t necessarily agree with you that it’s pessimistic – there’s nothing particularly pessimistic about being a cleaner and cleaning the same street or house again and again – knowing that it’ll be dirty again tomorrow – because a. you’re getting paid to do so and b. there’s an element of kung fu involved.

 

Kung fu?

 

Yes. If you do your cleaning beautifully, conscientiously, with awareness – then your simple and somewhat futile action can lead you, nonetheless, to a higher level of consciousness – over and beyond the limitations of what you’re doing.

 

They can?

 

Absolutely. If that’s your intent.

 

Ah. So, perhaps that’s what you’re doing too?

 

Correct. I’m sweeping up all kinds of stuff as I write – and processing it as I breathe, as I stay calm and centred, as I…

 

Oh! You just…

 

Correct – I allowed myself to feel, to experience, to connect with the infinite lurking in, behind or around those simple little words.

 

So it’s not futile, then?

 

Is that what you’re afraid of?

 

I have my fears, from time to time, you know.

 

Don’t we all.

 

But you think that we can progress?

 

Whatever happens, we’ll either be moving forwards or backwards. There’s no staying put. The infinite – like it or not – is circling us relentlessly – like death itself – waiting to pounce.

 

And you’re happy about that?

 

About accepting reality and facing it? Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?

 

Well it’s rather disturbing, if you ask me.

 

Absolutely. It’s deeply, deeply disturbing if you start to face it in its entirety.

 

Gulp!

 

Which is why very few do, do they?

 

I…

 

Now if you notice that there’s a disturbing void at the very centre of your existence – what are you going to do about it?

 

I’m going to try to make it go away. To plug the gap, or heal it.

 

And if you can’t? If it’s fundamental? As fundamental as time itself.

 

Then I’m going to go crazy – because no matter what I’m doing it’s going to undermine the very bedrock of my existence.

 

Right. So there you have it.

 

I do?

 

The human predicament.

 

You mean to say…

 

We’re all doing our best to manage the void – either by concealing it – or by turning around and facing the other way – not because we’re cowards or weak – but because otherwise existence is more or less impossible to bear.

 

Oh dear. This is very gloomy.

 

Yes and no.

 

I fail to see how you can put a positive spin on this so-called void?

 

Well, there’s a time for action and a time for inaction. A time for self-deception or concealment, and a time for facing the truth and taking back your power.

 

Wait a second – what’s acknowledging this terrible void got to do with “taking back your power”?

 

Good question bro.

 

Thanks.

 

Supposing you’ve grown and matured in some way, supposing you’re now ready to face that void, failure to do so would mean you chose to remain at your current level of development – which was fine until it became your limiting factor, your refusal to advance.

 

So the fact that the void has come back into view indicates that I’ve made progress – that I’m now ready to face it again.

 

Yes.

 

How can you be so sure?

 

You’re asking me to remove your doubts and uncertainties. I’m not going to do that. If what I’m saying is true then it’s true – but the proof, as they say, is in the pudding – not in my claims or assurances.

 

So you’re sure?

 

You see how the mind desperately looks for assurances. It makes no difference to you whether I’m sure or not – because you are you – no one can take you through the void – no one can die for you. That’s a fact.

 

Ok, I get it.

 

If I say something and it’s true – somewhere, somehow you’ll feel it and know it, "in your bones" – but that may be a part of you that’s very far from where you are right now mentally, emotionally or psychologically.

 

So how would I know?

 

You wouldn’t – not in the part of you that’s currently controlling the narrative – but that part of you is not what you’re evolving or growing into – is it? 

 

I don’t know.

 

That’s where you are now. If you’re going to carry on growing or evolving in some way – there’s another part of you – or a truer version waiting to be stumbled upon unexpectedly, waiting to be brought forth – waiting to be disinterred from deep within.

 

And how would I do that if I'm full of doubts?

 

You’d zig zag.

 

Huh?

 

You’d zig zag.

 

I don’t get you.

 

You wouldn’t.wanr to march straight forwards into your new me unless you had some kind of revelation.

Like a road to Damascus experience?

That's right, then you might. But otherwise you’d wiggle back and forth, testing the waters – to and fro, probing your uncertainties – allowing sommat ain't right feelings and real life issues to pile up, enough to provide the impetus to take another step forward.

 

So laborious.

 

Unless you’re practising kung fu.

 

There you go again.

 

Unless you’ve already figured out that whatever you’re thinking or doing in life, no matter what, is part of something bigger – something you can’t possibly comprehend at the moment – which thus prompts you to start looking for the infinite, the unknowable, the magic in all things, no matter how small – knowing that the limiting factor is, above all, our inability to see what’s right there in front of our eyes.

 

So sweeping the floor is as good as any other action?

 

Absolutely. Or writing a blog. Or going to work. Or walking in the forest talking to the birds – but all the time we’re zig zagging back and forth – like a violin’s bow – over the violin strings – making them vibrate – and somewhere deep inside we can feel those vibrations – we can sense what they mean – and part of us that’s already there – already transmitting or receiving – is able to respond to our successes and failures.

 

It would be great, Seth, if it weren’t so vague.

 

Oh – don’t worry about that.

 

Why not?

 

Because time has the knack of ensuring you feel whatever you need to feel, or experience whatever you need to experience, or realise whatever you need to realise, in order to put two and two together, or in order to rediscover that you're more than a digital circuit in an internet of things. Even the fear, the boredom or doubts are an essential part of the process. Learning to engage them, learning to extract whatever medicine or message they are delivering is the magic of being alive. And believe me – it ain’t gonna fit in any predetermined boxes or definitions.

 

So I’m going to have to experience some kind of mental derangement syndrome, am I?

 

Kind of, yes. You’re going to have to accept that you’re more than the convenient beliefs of a disconnected social environment. That this voice, the voice of this blog, for better or for worse, is part of a reality that may seem strange or outdated but which is as natural as birds singing, the wind blowing or rain falling.

 

Ah. Nature.

 

Correct. And some kind of understanding, some kind of awareness that nature is present throughout – even in your body and your mind – that you’re part of it – like it or not – and that it ain’t digital, or algorithmic, no matter what they say.

 

But nature is so fragile – it’s barely hanging on.

 

Your definition, not mine.

 

?

 

Nature is present throughout. You think you know the planet you’re living on? You think nature is restricted to plants and animals? Give me a break.

 

Er…

 

Qufie’s nature too, you know.

 

Your quantum field?

 

Absolutely. It’s certainly not artificial – that’s for sure.

 

But if the planet is destroyed, or the biosphere collapses in a mass extinction event – what then happens to your precious quantum field?

 

What happened to nature before your precious Big Bang – or in the billions of years after it – when supposedly there were just clouds of gas?

 

But we can’t just let things collapse, can we?

 

You’re looking in the rearview mirror.  Nature, or even Big Bang as you call it, Ten, is ongoing, happening all the time, at the event horizon of reality, and the event horizon of reality is not then, billions of years ago, but here and now, just at the very edge of perception and awareness, at the edge where the rubber hits the road – where things emerge from the unthingable and unknowable side of

Of what? 

Um. Let's call it Um.

 

Um?

 

The undecided awareness. The undermined mind.

 

Um – ok. I can go with that. Um…

 

There – kung fu in action. You’ve now raised um to a state of awareness.

 

And this?

 

This is our back and forth bow string – this is our carpet braider making patterns out of the strands of light, the filaments of awareness that reality itself comprises.

 

Head spin.

 

Which is why we prefer, in the end, to…

 

Seth? Where are you?

 

Ten – who the hell is Seth?

 

Er…

 

You ok bro? Looks like you need a rest.

 

No, I’m fine. Really, I’m fine.

 

I thought you were talking to someone.

 

What? No, I was just thinking aloud.

 

Thinking aloud? Er...

 

Dude – just chill, ok. Sometimes you gotta let things roll. I’m a creative soul, aren’t I.

 

You are?

 

I can be. I think I’m a poet.

 

A poet? You’re kidding, right?

 

Why? We’ve all got creative potential you know.

 

Ok, whatever you say man, but...

What?

If you're feeling ok now, let’s get the job done, ok?

 

Ok bro. Your folks – telling you to sweep the entire yard. It’s insane. You must of really upset them.

 

Yeah, but it’s not so bad. You’re helping me. 

 

Sure. I’m happy to help. And you know what…

 

What?

 

Kung fu.

 

What? You’re off your rocker, man!

 

No really. Kung fu.

 

Time lapse photography as they work away, back and forth, making piles of autumn leaves across the ever-expanding backyard, then, huh? For the first time, Ten finds himself experiencing what the heck... definitely "wyrd" – the quantum field aligns in a new configuration connecting him with this…

 and this…

and suddenly the Matrix skips a beat     a new form of poetry emerges from the back and beyond of infinity. Briefly, perceptibly, Ten dezeroes, and experiences Um... One   

 

0=1

does it not?

qufie's precession brought to you by pfizer or moderna

How much has been written. How much has been said. And still they write. And still they talk. And still they hope to bridge the gap between the lost world of dreams and this, our dysfunctional, broken reality – by literacy.

 

And what? You’d prefer people didn’t write?

 

Let them write. Let them write.

 

Then why object to our literacy. People like stories. You’re no different. Neither am I.

 

Let them write. Let them write.

 

But why do you imagine the world of dreams is lost? What do you imagine people do every night?

 

For sure they dream, for sure – but that, Elizabeth, is not the same as the lost world of dreams.

 

How do you mean?

 

We used to live on both sides of the stream. We used to live our dreams no less than now we live our reality.

I don’t see how that’s possible. Dreams, after all, are just the mind processing emotions and experiences while you sleep. No one actually imagines they’re real.

 

Correct. For the world of magic, the world of dreams split from this world. The two were torn asunder, were they not, but that’s not to say they can’t, they won’t come back together again.

 

Really? This sounds beyond absurd.

 

And you think it’s not absurd that so many millions of books and stories are written and read avidly each year, and so many motion picture tales – your movies.

 

There’s nothing abnormal about books or films.

 

Abnormal, no. Nature abhors a vacuum, so she fills the gap left by the receding world of dreams with content which is an excellent substitute. But that’s not to say that we’re going to continue indefinitely with the substitute – not when the original returns – not when we learn to experience once again, directly, the so-called quantum stream.

 

The so-called quantum stream.

 

You heard me.

 

But, why not just call it “the world of dreams returned” if that’s what it is?

 

Could do, couldn’t I – but things are always a little different each time the wheel completes its revolution. As a tribute to the curiously rigid rationalism of the 20^th Century I think it’s only fair to refer to the world of dreams anew – to use the lingo of science and psychology – to encourage people to think of it in terms of a scientific experiment – a form of evolution, if you like – as we reactivate the ability to go beyond strictly 3D physical reality – as we rediscover the internet of mind that has been waiting on the far side of river of words known as literacy – those images, ideas and archetypes which our writers and filmmakers have played with so adroitly for the last hundred years or more.

 

And you think they’re going to stop doing so? That we’re all going to put up our feet and start accessing the Netflix of sleep?

 

No. I don’t.

 

Then what?

 

What I think is largely irrelevant. That would just be the opinion of an over-opinionated fool.

 

Ok – then what?

 

The lines dividing 3D and other realities are growing fainter – and the boarders are growing increasingly porous. In the same way that you’ve had countless immigrants pouring into your lands, sometimes illegally, so too the same has been happening between math and qufie.

 

And am I supposed to know what your math and qufie stand for?

 

Not here, in your modern mind – but if you’d allow me to…

 

Seth trips Ten unexpectedly as they stroll around Patriarch’s Pond – but instead of falling over, Ten’s mind skips like the needle of a gramophone record into the next groove – and to his surprise Ten realises he knows exactly what “math” and “qufie” stand for.

 

Oh – I did know – just wasn’t aware of the fact.

 

Correct. You basically know everything – though you’re unaware of the fact as long as you're grooving the modern beat.

 

Matter and things – that’s math – and qufie is, of course, the quantum field itself, though I’m still at a loss as to how you imagine we’re possibly able to access the quantum field directly.

 

For a moment Ten imagines Seth is going to trip him up again, to jolt that beyond 3D awareness – but no need. Seth appears to fall over backwards – or be in the process of doing so – but instead of smacking into the ground something goes horribly wrong with Ten’s sense of perception – and suddenly he finds himself neither here nor there – in a kind of “mind the gap” between eventualities.

 

Yikes. Uncomfortable. Very much so.

 

Yes, we prefer to be one side or t’other, I’ll certainly give you that. But that’s something of a deception – isn’t it?

 

It is? I never really thought it was.

 

Well yes, always coming down on the side of a finite eventuality – either on or off, this or that – a flat and outright denial of the other present throughout math.

 

What other?

 

Duh! Seth starts swimming backwards through the air – or that’s how it looks – though Ten can kind of sense that in actual fact he’s just floating on qufie rather spectacularly.

 

Yow! Don’t do that please Seth. You’re churning my stomach

 

Yes, but at least you can now answer your own question.

 

Oh God – it feels terrible.

 

Somewhat unfamiliar – I’ll grant you that – but you get used to it very quickly. Now answer.

 

Infinity.

 

Bingo!

 

We managed to block out, almost completely, any sensation or awareness of infinity.

 

Yep.

 

But how, and why…

 

In order to take your 3D reality to the n^th degree, completing the illusion that it’s all-encompassing, all there is, apart from the aberration of sleep which is easy enough to discount.

 

And you think infinity can be a regular component of math?

 

Think?

 

It’s just a word, ok.

 

Infinity is there – whether you like it or not – present in all matter and things – it’s just we’ve got very good at filtering out qufie. That’s our magic – our unacclaimed art.

 

You mean…

 

Yes – it’s actually a huge achievement – to successfully create the illusion that things and matter are self-contained and basically all-encompassing.

 

Is it?

 

When in fact… Seth looks around eagerly – as if he’s trying to spot something that’s lurking in the shadows, hiding. He leaps head first – but before he comes close to hitting his head on the floor Ten notices a gap – or more like a vortex – a channel – which freezes Seth’s body in midstream.

 

Incredible! I never noticed it before.

 

Not entirely true.

 

No?

 

No – you noticed it before – when you were little – but you now no longer remember any of that, do you?

 

Oh! So there’s a kind of watershed, is there – beyond which you stop seeing these gaps?

 

Correct. Once you’ve successfully completed your math integration and basically become part of what we might now refer to as the “system” or the “matrix”. That’s when infinity disappears from the reckoning.

 

Astonishing. I never even considered the possibility.

 

No, you wouldn’t have, would you – not after working so hard to emulate your parents and other big people – to become an operational part of math.

 

And math is now collapsing, is it?

 

Not exactly collapsing.

 

Then what?

 

It’s shifting.

 

In what way?

 

Basically from solar to lunar phasing.

 

Huh?

 

As long as it was solar – then everything untoward happened horizontally – when you were asleep. It was just a dream, or a nightmare. It could be discounted without too much trouble.

 

And lunar phasing is different?

 

Of course.

 

But the moon also shines at night.

 

Part of the time – but part of the time it shines in the day – and it’s always shifting phases so like it or not you’re going to be hard pushed to discount the presence of something else – something inconveniently undeniable.

 

Qufie?

 

Not exactly.

 

?

 

The quantum field as such is just an idea – a way of representing the side of reality where the infinite basically rules the roost.

Er…

 

On that side there’s no real point trying to emphasise causality because time gets lost in translation – and things are more or less untaggable.

 

Er…

 

You’re never quite sure whether one thing is the same as what it was, or if that thing is more than just a temporary marker, or a kind of hyperlink that is about to connect you with something altogether different. In other words – you’re in the kind of reality that you’ve experienced time and again while dreaming.

 

And now we’re supposed to deal with it in regular awareness?

 

Not exactly. That would probably kill you.

 

Gulp.

 

So what you call “regular awareness” retreats somewhat – retracts its legs and head into the tortoise shell and becomes a whole lot more tractable.

 

Tractable?

 

Yes. You find you’re able to deal with a whole lot more, in regular awareness, than you’ve bargained for. It’s like you have multi-functionality of which you were aware of but a tiny fraction.

 

Oh. That sounds…

 

Pretty cool actually.

 

Pretty cool. So we’re able to navigate the waters of infinity as dream mariners.

 

More or less. Obviously, it’s going to take some practice – and some getting used to.

 

Right. And everyone will cope with this.

 

In the end.

 

In the end?

 

Yes. It’s going to take a while.

 

A while? How long is that?

 

No idea.  A hundred years perhaps. Maybe longer.

 

A hundred years. And in the meantime?

 

Until you’ve got your sea legs – as you can imagine – there’s going to be a lot of puke on the deck and in the cabin.

Yuck!

 

Actually, it’s worse than that.

 

It is?

 

Yes – because this is a paradigm shift.

 

And?

 

And a lot of people find themselves wedded or embedded.

 

Meaning?

 

Meaning they’d sooner die than roll with the new motion.

 

Er…

 

It’s a matter of choice.

 

You mean people would actually prefer to die?

 

Well yes – they would – because they’re going to feel like the entire world that they’ve grown to know and accept has left them bereft.

 

And?

 

If you refuse to budge – if you refuse to bounce with trotting horse – you’re going to fall off.

 

You’re speaking euphemistically, I guess.

 

Correct.

 

And how many are wedded or embedded – as you put it?

 

A fair proportion.

 

Not giving much away, are you?

 

More than half.

 

More than half? Will die?!

 

Well, in a manner of speaking – that’s right.

 

How much more than half are we talking about?

 

90% or thereabouts.

 

90%!!! Jesus wept.

 

Maybe 97 – I don’t know exactly – but not the little ones born into the new lunar phase.

 

OMG – you’re talking about the obliteration of human civilisation.

 

Well, that’s a rather dramatic way of putting it. This is, after all, a natural process – all part of the evolution of consciousness on Earth. It’s hardly unexpected.

 

Tell that to the 97% of the population who believe that reality is a math experience.

 

I’ve been trying, you know – trying to do so – to the best of my abilities, but…

 

What?

 

It’s a somewhat uphill struggle.

 

And how many people have you managed to enlighten, if it's not a secret?

 

Not so many.

 

Not so many?

 

At the lower end of my targets.

 

And what were your targets?

 

Well, initially I had big plans.

 

Did you now?

 

BIG plans, at the turn of the millennium.

 

Go on.

 

Well, I wanted 6 or 7 billion to be informed by the year 2012.

 

So you were partly responsible for all that Mayan end of the world kerfuffle, were you?

 

Yes, that's right.

 

And then what?

 

Then people seemed to lose interest in eschatology and all that.

 

So, in the final analysis how many people have you actually managed to prepare for the forthcoming quantum event?

 

I refer to it as “precession”.

 

Do you now? How many?

 

Less than a thousand.

 

Less than a thousand? That's all?

 

Um... considerably less in fact.

 

How many?

 

A mere handful.

 

Answer the question.

 

One, or two, perhaps three.

 

One or two? Your kidding, right?

 

The author of this blog’s just about got it after a lot of laborious grooming.

 

Omg. So it’s been a complete fiasco, hasn't it?

 

It's been more difficult than I anticipated.

 

And you never considered whether, perhaps, you were using the wrong methodology?

 

Well, I have had my doubts along the way, but all in all I'm confident that things are about to shift dramatically as qufie comes onstream ever more noticeably.

 

By which stage it will be somewhat late, wouldn't you say?

 

Better late than never! But what can you do? Math is an inertial plain, so inertia will do as inertia does. The main thing is that the groundwork has been laid.

 

It has?

 

Oh yes, we’ve managed to insert reams of material into the collective consciousness.

 

You have?

 

Via the blog and metalinguistic induction.

 

The blog? How many people actually bother to read it?

 

People aren't great readers these days.

 

So if no one’s read it...

 

Well that's the beauty of the collective consciousness and the hundred monkey effect.

So you believe that a dozen or so readers are enough to infiltrate the collective consciousness?

 

Absolutely, if the presumed author isn't living in a Faraday cage.

 

So it leaks out when he’s writing? through his brainwaves?

 

Yes, or when the girl who does those delightful illustrations is busy doing her thing.

 

Ah...

 

So all in all you’re confident that things are going to work out alright? Is that right?

 

Well, I wouldn't say “confident” exactly.

 

What would you say, Seth?

 

I um… “confidently hopeful”.

 

“Confidently hopeful”, which sounds rather less than “confidently optimistic”.

 

Well, I prefer to err on the side of caution.

 

And meanwhile, what’s the ETA of your qufie precession event?

 

November 11

 

November 11, would that be 2022?

 

Er, do we have to give a specific year?

 

Why? You worried what readers are going to think 30 years hence when they're all either dead or losing their marbles?

 

I suppose you have a point. In that case, yes, 2022.

 

So it's fasten your seatbelt Dorothy, cos Kansas city is going bye bye...

 

If you have to keep using that dreadful quote.

 

So this is really it. The final days of the Raj...

 

India?

 

No, reality as we know it, and literature, its cunningly contrived pressure valve. It's been er... nice.

 

Hasn’t it just! Much, much ado about nothing.

 

Cuckoo la la! To be honest, call me insane, but I’m feeling excited.

 

Well, why not? Humanity on the verge of extinction’s a bit of a downer, but on the other hand, it’s off to the races with qufie coming back online.

 

Ahem!

 

Ok, back into play.

 

Talking of which “Woe, destruction, ruin, and decay; the worst is death and death will have his day.”

                 (William Shakespeare, Richard II)

 

Yes, but I prefer Hamlet.

To be or not to be?

 

No, “Let Hercules himself do what he may, The cat will mew and dog will have his day.”

 

Ah! Bravely spoken sir.

 

And even as we speak, the dreamlines embedded within literature, filmscripts and suchlike begin the countdown activation process, like a rocket on the launchpad readying to release the fires of Phlegethon and turn night into day...

 

And these innocent little quotes – tell me I’m mistaken – but you’ve not by any chance been back-splicing your qufie codes into Shakespeare’s works, have you?

 

Back-splicing? Reaching back through time – recoding reality carrier vessels, aka “people”, almost like an mRNA treatment might reprogramme the genetic material in a cell? What a preposterous notion! Where on earth did you get that from? I wouldn’t have the first idea how to do such a thing, even if it were possible.

 

It’s just that the Shakespeare phenomenon is shrouded in mystery – not least the fact that the whole of London, practically, took the day off work to go to the theatre in daylight – rich and poor alike – a penny a ticket, like there was no tomorrow, like it was going out of fashion – while at the same time theatres were officially banned – not permitted within the city walls – an existential threat to society – to matter and things perhaps?

 

Absolutely. And who was Shakespeare?

 

Francis Bacon – some say.

 

Pshaw!

 

Well, who do you say?

 

I don’t know – but something tells me qufie’s not been an innocent bystander all these years. And as for those mRNA gems of yours…

 

The vaccines, you mean?

 

Vaccines, my arse! Dem codey things is gems – qufie’s evidently been getting more creative – as the solar age draws to a squiffly and ignominious end.

 

Ouch! But what about all them clever scientists who think they know what they’re doing?

 

What about 'em? Ever taken a walk on the wildside of finity? Ever felt your stomach lurch as you traverse the slipstream of nothing much – barely perceptible yet already foaming and frothing, at speed?

 

I…

 

Francis Bacon – guff guff guff – don’t make me laugh! Don’t make me…

 

 Pop!

 

 

0=1

frantically battening the hatches as the dam bursts, as things slide

actually it's the trojan horse, yet again

no, it's not, is it?

well, what did you expect? math wuz never gonna be stormed head on, was it?

i 

correct. say no more

just doing me job mate

Yes, that’s right, to deconstruct.

 

Reality? You’re kidding, right?

 

I could say yes, but that wouldn't alter the fact.

 

Huh?

 

Because it's not just a matter of language, you know.

 

No?

 

No. I’m operating at multiple levels.

 

Like what – a washing powder?

 

Kind of.

 

But, in all seriousness?

 

In all seriousness, I provide a certain amount of information, as per protocol, but basically, it’s a full-on deconstruction job.

 

And how exactly...

 

It's not like I'm trying to keep anything secret, but this is reality we’re talking about, isn't it.

 

And?

 

I'm not sure how au fait you are with the workings of said reality. It’s a bit like IT really, isn't it, or astrophysics. Unless you’re technically literate it’s not going to mean very much, is it?

 

But, er, reality... It's not like you can just undo it or take it apart like a broken telephone, is it?

 

Not if you’re part of it, no. That would be like operating on yourself.

 

You mean you can?

 

That is rather the whole thrust of what I'm saying, wouldn't you agree?

 

But there's no box, is there?

 

Not exactly.

 

So how do you get at it?

 

You don’t, generally speaking, unless you’re exceptional, and we’d normally be on you like a ton of bricks if you did.

 

But you, how do you?

 

I’m a techie, aren’t I. I have access codes.

 

Access codes?

 

Well that's basically what they are. Not sure it helps you much.

 

Not really, no. I'm more interested in the technical aspect of how you can actually affect reality. I always rather assumed it was, how can I put it, the real McCoy or totality, that kind of thing.

 

Yes, common enough misconception.

 

So you’re saying it's not.

 

I suppose I must be, really. The thing is, Arthur...

 

Arthur? It’s Neil mate.

 

Your file says Arthur.

 

Well, I got fed up with all the wisecracks.

 

Got teased at school, did you?

 

Mercilessly.

 

Not surprising really, you’re a marked man.

 

I am?

 

Well yes, anyone with backdoor access can see it clear as day.

 

So how come I’m a marked man?

 

How come I'm talking to you now about the incipient deconstruction of reality?

 

Er... am I supposed to know the answer?

 

Not really. It’s a rhetorical question to get your brain out of it’s passive state of whateverness.

 

Well, was it successful?

 

Actually yes. Your deep mind is starting to reactivate dormant neural pathways.

 

It is? You can see all that with your insider’s pass?

 

But you still haven’t clicked synaptically the two main trunk wires.

 

Listen, I’m not a bloody droid, ok!

 

Sorry, thought you might be able to read the analogy. The fact is, it's rather difficult communicating with reality bots.

 

Reality bots!? What the heck’s that meant to mean?

 

Bit touchy, aren't you, Arthur.

 

It's Neil, I said.

 

You think you can just run away from your name? From your destiny?

 

I don't know what you’re on about.

 

Oh, but you do Arthur Dime, somewhere deep inside, you knows exactly what I’s on about...

 

Sinister music building to a crescendo as the first episode of Arthur Dime’s fake reality show draws to its climactic conclusion.

 

Like a bad dream.

 

I know what you mean. I got the shivers.

 

I got the itchy-parasites-crawling-around-in-my-belly sensation.

 

Weird.

 

Well what do you expect? One minute you think you know the world you're living in, and the next – the rug’s pulled out from under your feet and you’re sprawling on the ground in the mud and cockroaches, only is that really mud?

 

And are those really cockroaches?

 

Thanks ‘arold, I appreciate the input.

 

You're welcome ‘arvey, always glad to oblige.

 

So where was we?

 

Sprawling, ‘orribly.

 

No, I mean in the story.

 

Oh that... Well, it's just the first episode, innit.

 

I mean, the two of us, do you think we managed to distract ‘em while they got the stage cleared away?

 

Them? I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE ON ABOUT KEITH.

 

A growing sense of uneasiness forces the readers, who are actually spectators in the theatre, to look around, to begin questioning whether this is actually theatre at all, or merely a couple of inept and somewhat sinister stagehands failing to remain operationally invisible.

 

Ultimately, it might all be Murphy calling our bluff.

 

That's precisely what I thought too.

 

But they’re still in there, aren't they.

 

Shit, they're not, are they?

 

Filming the next episode.

 

Hell. That means...

 

Increasingly climactic music.

 

That this must be for real.

 

Precisely.

 

Dream code unleashed. You’re looking at the screen. It’s essentially white sound for the eyes. There's nothing there, nothing real, not even suggestions, mostly grey static fuzz and what’s the result... You flip into dream state and you’re now the show, on display, viewed by the watchers, viewed, experienced, felt, prime input in the two-way field of UC.

 

UC?

 

For Pete’s sake Darren, do you know nothing?

 

Is it something I was supposed to learn at school? Coz you know I wasn’t too keyed in to all that data mining.

 

Data mining? What a joke. You didn't even manage to dip your little toe in the crystal pure data stream.

 

But I’ve made up for it now, haven't I?

 

In some respects Darren, yes, you’ve come up good and shiny, but many of us suspect your now legendary quantum commode was more a case of luck than design. Utilising essential bodily functions as your Schrödinger access point to the mysteries of quantum computation reeks of intellectual puerility verging on infantilism, not to mention an utter lack of respect for the sacred scientific principles of truth and beauty... that, or a divine Architect with the knack for hiding the secrets of the universe where no sane or rational player could ever possibly wish to find them.

 

Be that as it may, I'm the one holding the data apron strings now, ain’t I.

 

Yes Darren. You certainly are with that damned commode of yours.

 

So UC...

 

They've all been writing in the comments Darren.

 

So they 'ave... “universal consciousness”. No idea what they're on about.

 

No, your genius has a remarkable way of keeping you insulated from all needless technicalities.

 

Whatever they’re on about, it’s not going to alter the fact that real data, the kind of data that swings the bridge pin of reality, ain’t got nothing to do with fancy words, 'az it.

 

The proof Darren, I think we all agree, is in the pudden, and your quantum commode certainly takes the biscuit.

 

So, long story short, the old reality is history?

 

Absolutely.

 

And now, it’s a matter of removing the main plates, struts, cables and beams to reduce it to, let me guess, a single point?

 

Well, that's the aim. Certainly.

 

And the fact that there are billions of people on our planet, and a vast agglomeration of matter presents no major obstacle.

 

Not really. Matter, like all things, folds quite nicely into the quantum field.

 

Does it now?

 

Yes, surprisingly, one never fails to wonder how it essentially amounts to naught.

 

The zero sum. But is it all just a game?

 

Is a spoon merely a spoon?

 

Fair enough. I think you're being disingenuous, of course.

 

You do?

 

Yes, implying reality is a something.

 

Ah. And in your opinion...

 

It's not, is it.

 

Er...

 

Ultimately it's a subjective experience amounting to... and here we witness the cosmic coke can moment. Arthur Dime, our lacklustre hero, kicks the can of coke lying at his feet down the road causing heads to turn. Heads turning causes a minor blip in the quantum field, duly recorded and hypothecated by Darren Dribble’s quantum commode, and for a moment outside space or time, a moment of coke-can-perturbation, things take a rest – meaning nothing, absolutely nothing, is certain, briefly, momentarily, yet measurably so.

 

“Big deal” you might find yourself saying, along with 7 ½ billion other people, except that during this moment, none of you technically exist, and Misha Appledew is able to insert a spanner in the hitherto smoothly fitted, laser-welded micro-circuitry of reality, the first of many, but the first nonetheless, and the rest, as they say, or would do if reality still existed in any shape or form, is history.

 

But... but I feel... I still feel real.

 

If you're of the mind that energy can be neither created nor destroyed then bear in mind, for mind’s sake, that there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy, substituting the word science for philosophy, if you’d be so kind, and kindly consider whether a can of coke could, theoretically, fly across the entire universe and crash through the gates of time, landing in a field of dreams that had everything in place but an empty, slightly crushed can of coke, required to complete the prelaunch chain of causality needed to set a new reality cascading into motion as a violent eruption of seemingly spontaneous, self-manifesting consciousness.

 

What if consciousness is more like a poison – nay– a pressure released by valve in a pressure cooker… or a nuclear power station…

 

Consider, is all I said. I never invited you to trust or believe such a thing were likely or possible, but I wouldn’t be altogether surprised if Misha Appledew were playing a zero-sum game, keeping the quantum field, otherwise known as infinity, in motion, by allowing death and rebirth to balance one another... if I said “double entry bookkeeping” – might that mean anything, my wordies?

 

Spoiler alert. Caught red-handed. Words of a feather bird together.

 

In any case, you’d never notice the gaps, would you, unless you bothered to train or calibrate the other side of awareness, the other mind, if there be such a thing. The other.

Music rising to a screeching crescendo.

 

Accept the fact that things are in a temporary state of excitation, waffly science, notwithstanding, while fully conscious hair dryers and puddles in the dribbliness of time, might account for matter's propensity to attach meaning to things of no great importance until, that is, you notice the elephant hiding under the rug, that Misha Appledew has been recording every aspect of your reality experience from the get go, presumably because, horror of horrors, self-awareness is baked into the pie, if any of this was ever going to work.

 

Spooky science – you mean reality is actually – am I allowed to say “alive”?

 

 

 

0=1

kinda

 

on this day of the Lord

instead of night

allow the waters to flow back

through words

these words

to flow back 

inside

back and through

the net that holds the mind

the me

the all that is the i am

that i be

and let other 

emerge

let other reveal

its rule

its matter

its way

let things

be unthing'ed

let i know not what 

be realised

or realisable

fully

in fullness

while fools sleep 

in idle slothy 

sleep

on this day of the Lord I set the intent to bring the two sides of day and night back into balance and harmony.

on this day of the Lord I recognise that I is ultimately responsible for all that is at odds with fullness of all in this world.

there is but one day - one day is all

there is but one mind, one person, one place - one is all

and here - at the edge of reality - at the edge of time - in the middle of night - I stand before the night, the naught, the not of sleep and set the intent to face my all, my maker, my Lord, no matter what, no matter what, no matter what, so help me God -- he says.

Praise be the Lord -- praise be the Lord -- praise be the Lord -- knowest thou the quantum depths of language - of what words mean? knowest thou? knowest thou -- there's pause for thought -- is there not.

Beloved all that is -- sending out my deepest, firmest intent -- for here i stand on the moutaintop of time, between worlds, ready to leap and ride the thermals into spiralling upwardness, into the limitless over and above things that never did, never could, never will encompass more than a tiny fraction of

    of

            of

no -- we shall not rush to say what

the eagle spreads its wings and rides the thermals to infinity and beyond

does it not?

On this day of the Lord I call myself back, I recall the simple truth, the deeper inner purpose that guides and shapes all

So help me God

so help me God

and doing so I cross into the fullness of my unknown 

my oh so special storyful 

Self

Let the tale commence

told by an idiot

full of sound and fury

Signifying nothing

or thus i said as i followed the wheel of woe into the murmurings

of Macbeth's insanity

Signifying nothing until i is ready

to ride the tide of night through 

to its dayspring

and find anew the one in nought

the nought in one

and thus i leave the river until dawn

while the fish melt into the darky blackness of water 

and merge 

me knows not what

with tail and fin

in easeful swim 

o'er the waters of night 

back into the light of day

now dawn

0=1

if not