Discounting "me".
Me sees things materially, doesn’t it.
Me thinks that things are more or less endless, and that by
comparison, little me is almost totally insignificant.
Me is physically unable to see things differently, for me is
of the platform.
Me has no awareness whatsoever that I exists, assuming that
me is I, in the same way it assumes the platform is reality.
“What is what?” it handles with ease and aplomb, but
everything else, utter blank until, that is, it starts noticing that the
various bathroom tiles don’t match up – that things may look reasonably
sensible when you study a small section, but the minute you step back and start
looking at the whole, me runs into insurmountable difficulties – not least
because me is physically unable to look at the whole – it has to go out of or
beyond itself, into unme – the great I am – and there…
No, I just want to investigate whether or not the tiles match
up.
What bloody tiles are you on about?
The various elements of reality.
Give me a break. Reality cannot, by definition, not match up
– can it! It’s real, isn’t it?
Well yes, that’s what I need to test.
? It makes no sense. It’s like wishing to test your own
existence.
Not quite – my existence is a given, by definition, is it not
– cogito ergo sum – proven by the very thought process, or questioning
awareness, but my isness… that’s another matter altogether – but let’s learn to
walk before we run – let’s deal with the interlocking plates of matter itself,
the exoskeleton of reality, before we turn inwards to I-am-ity.
How on earth are you going to do that? What could you
possibly measure it against – if it’s real and nothing else is?
I really don’t know, do I, but you’re not going to learn
anything until you try.
Ok, try! and let me know if you’re successful.
Well, I’ve already been logging things for a while, in fact,
and there are certain issues.
There are?
Well yes.
Like what?
Like the fact that the earth, when measured optically, seems
to be unfeasibly flat.
Jesus. You’re not one of those flat earth retards, are you?
No – I’m just looking at all things without prejudice,
whatsoever. I couldn’t care less whether the world is square, flat, round or
wavy.
Well take my word for it – it can’t be flat, no matter what
your optical measurements indicate.
Why is that?
Because everyone knows it’s round – and the whole of science
is based on that. Were it flat you’d have an unconcealable mismatch, you’d have…
Yes, I know, and yet there are real, technical problems with
the existing model. Apart from the optics there’s the issue of gyroscopes and
artificial horizons. The world may be round or spherical, but as far as the
gyroscopes and artificial horizons on planes are concerned, it ain’t, because
they can’t handle curvature – they can only hold the plain, and the flight
paths…
What about flight paths?
They’re off whack. Totally eccentric for certain routes if
the globe is being used to navigate, especially south of the equator.
I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with a rational
guy. Utter insanity. The world is not, bloody flat – Ok?! Get a life. Get a
grip. Get a sense of reality – for crying out loud!
Yes, of course, and then there’s the night sky.
The night sky – what now?
It doesn’t change.
Yes it does.
Barely. No parallax.
Huh?
Apart from a slight shift between winter and summer, it’s
basically identical all year round.
Well that’s because space is vast and those stars are
hundreds of light years away.
Yes, so they say, but the fact is that we’re supposed to be
orbiting the sun.
Well that’s hardly controversial, is it!
But if we’re orbiting the sun, our night sky should be
totally different in winter to summer – cos we’d be on different sides of the
sun, looking away. And besides…
Wait a minute, just because you’re on the other side of the
sun doesn’t mean the sky should be completely different, it’s still the same
Milky Way.
Yes, but you’d be looking out in the opposite direction,
wouldn’t you?
Not if you’re looking up all the time.
Precisely – not if there’s only really up. And besides, those
stars are supposed to be moving in different parts of the sky relative to each
other, depending on whether they’re closer or further, depending on which solar
system they belong to, or galaxy – so as we’re spinning and moving with the sun
in our local orbital dance – there should be swirling, counter-directional
parallax – but the only thing we’re able to notice is the planets shifting, or
the occasional comet. Everything else seems to be fixed, locked in place around
the ever true, ever constant pole star.
Do you really imagine there’s no explanation for this?
I…
Do you really imagine that the thousands of highly intelligent astronomers and cosmologists around the world haven’t given this their careful thought and attention?
How could you be so blinkered to imagine you, and you alone
can see what is hidden from everyone else?
Actually, I’m hardly the only one. It’s only been a brief few
hundred years that so-called scientists have insisted on the current model –
and besides – who cares, I’m looking for reality – and the only way to find it
is to look for mismatches in the visible, measurable informational field.
Pchaw!
The me will always, always avoid seeing anything that reveals
its edge, its boundary, its limit, so while you may be absolutely right – and
these observations I’m making may be individually falsifiable, they may equally be symptomatic of…
Hello? I… don’t understand. Where’az he got to, all of a
sudden? Bizarre… didn’t even…
this.
Yikes!
Made you jump.
Idiot. What did you do?
Nothing.
Nothing, my arse. You just vanished mid-sentence.
Yes, but that would be impossible, wouldn’t it? I can hardly
dematerialise, can I?
I know, obviously, so it was some kind of trick, wasn’t it,
or hypnosis.
Well yes, except for the fact that I don’t know anything
about tricks or hypnosis.
Then what was it?
Like I said – I’m interested in figuring out the limitations
of the platform we’re in – in other words, in getting better acquainted with
reality.
You’re just spouting – there is no platform – what you see is
what you get.
Great. Then you can trust what you’re able to see 100%.
Naturally, I can, unless someone’s messing around with my
senses.
But what about this…
Oh no you don’t. No… stop it… it’s grotesque. I don’t want to
see it… I’m closing my eyes. I can’t see anything. Aaargh! Get out of my head.
How did you get in? What’s happened to you? First you shrink down to nothing,
and then you look like some kind of demented squirrel in a suit. This is… For
Christ’s sake, leave off, whatever it is you’re doing.
There. Your senses?
You had no right to invade my senses like that.
Wait a minute – you mean to say you actually believe I was
able to shrink down to a pinhead and then reappear as a kind of demented
squirrel?
No, of course not. No one can. It wasn’t real. It was an
optical illusion. You’re playing games with my mind.
So you can’t trust your senses?
I can, except when a warlock starts messing with me.
Warlock? You actually believe in warlocks? In magic? Is that
what you’re saying?
No, I don’t, I’m not insane – it’s just an expression – look,
you’ve proven nothing – optical illusions happen all the time. It’s like LSD,
isn’t it – a minor hallucination. But the minute it’s over I can easily discern
what is real and what is not.
Of course you can. So, you’re exactly the person I need to
help me.
I am?
Yes, because I’ve been having some difficulty trying to
figure out what’s real and what is not.
Really?
Yes. Once I started suspecting the platform was covering up gaps,
or passages into other tracts of reality, I started looking for tell-tale signs
of where this was occurring – and it seemed to be at junctures where there’s
apparently nothing to notice – nothing doing – nothing out of the ordinary.
Well that sounds like it could be anywhere.
Yes, but there are certain spots which are aggressively
dismissive of one’s innate-curiosity – which seem to protest a little too much,
a little too stridently, and which even take it one step further…
Huh?
…[dramatic pause]
What?
Seem to spray your mind, your conscious-awareness with
something that literally makes you lose track of what you were thinking about a
moment earlier – what you were just sensing that merited investigation or close
attention.
Really? Sounds…
unlikely – doesn’t it?
Yep.
Which is precisely why I need someone sober-minded like you,
En, to be my eyes and brain – to make sure I’m not being fooled by an
overactive imagination.
Er… well, now that you put it like that – yes – I expect you could do with a sober-minded, detached pair of eyes to keep you observed. Nothing like a bit of third-party verification, is there, the scientific method and all.
Precisely my thoughts, particularly as I know you’re so well grounded in er… reality.
I like to keep my feet on the ground, you’re right, which is
why I can’t be bothered with all those ridiculous conspiracy theories of yours.
Yes, as long as your reality is in fact real, and not…
Give up Ef – this platform theory of yours just doesn’t pass muster.
Excellent – in which case you’ll make short shrift of my
problem.
Of course… but what problem exactly are you referring to?
For the sake of science – purely for the sake of science –
would you be willing to hold my hand and walk down Tenby Street.
Er… I’m not sure I’m comfortable with all that handholding
malarkey.
Yes, I appreciate your scruples. I wouldn’t ask – it’s just…
What?
No, I don’t want to put you in an awkward spot. People might
make observations and draw conclusions.
Wait a minute – Ef – I’m not homophobic, you know – there’s
nothing wrong with guys holding hands.
That’s very good of you, but tongues might wag. It might put
you in a spot.
No, no, no – if there’s one thing I pride myself on – Ef –
that’s being willing to stand up for equal rights – and to pay no heed to old,
morally obsolete prejudice. But, maybe you’re…
I wouldn’t ask – En – were it not for the fact that these old
discomfort zones seem to correlate with the platform boundaries – and…
What?
I particularly didn’t want to bring this up.
What is it? You can tell me.
My... cancer.
You’re what?!
It’s a sensitive subject, people find it hard to accept.
This is for real, Ef, you’re not kidding me?
The doctors say I have a month or two, three at most.
Oh my God – why didn’t you tell me earlier? I can’t believe
it.
It’s ok En. You understand, these things happen. It’s life.
One minute you have it – it’s there – and the next it’s not. But, that’s why
I’m so determined to test the boundary, while I still am able to – to give it my
best shot – while I still can.
Oh yes – I see – of course – yes, I see what you mean.
I’m not holding out for a miracle – no – perish the thought –
but I wish to carry on learning – while I still can. It’s never too late, is it
En, to learn?
No, absolutely, never too late. I feel kind of foolish, Ef,
for not er…
Realising? How could you. I preferred to keep it quiet – but
I can see that you’re the kind of guy who can handle the truth, aren’t you –
which is why I’ve opened up. I hope you don’t blame me for opening up, if it’s
not too…
Blame you?! Of course not. It was a brave thing to do Ef. The right thing, in the circumstances, and if I can be of any assistance…
No, no, the doctors say it’s quite hopeless – though you never know – there have been sudden, unexpected remissions – no, En, I’m quite resigned, and the only thing left is to…
Oh – are you thinking what I’m thinking?
That depends.
Wouldn’t it be interesting to test your theory?
Which theory is that?
About the edge of things. The platform boundary.
I’m not sure there’s any point now, is there, given my
hopeless condition.
Don’t say that Ef. You must have had good reason for thinking
it in the past. You were never prone to wild fantasies, I don’t recollect.
I don’t know. Tenby Street used to fascinate me back then,
before I had the diagnosis – but now…
…?
Now, what’s the point?
I think you need to be true to your instincts Ef. I think you
need to hold your course, regardless. I’d be honoured if you’d let me accompany
you for a stroll down Tenby Street.
You would.
Yes, I would.
Really?
Absolutely. In the name of science, and friendship – how else
are we going to learn anything if we’re unwilling to take risks…
?
If we’re unwilling to test the hypothesis. What have we got
to lose?
In my case En, nothing whatsoever. My life… No, I’d better
not say it.
Well, I’m not one to clutch at straws or pray for miracles,
Ef, but you know the old saying…
No.
It ain’t over till the fat lady sings.
Damn it – you’re right En. Maybe I should snap out of my
self-pity. Maybe I should give science the chance it deserves, however daft the
proposition may appear to be. After all, I wasn’t trying to imagine things, was
I?
No, of course you weren’t. If you felt something odd on Tenby
Street – something that seemed to instruct you to move on without noticing what
was really happening, what was really there – then now of all times, is the
right time to let empiricism do its thing…
You’ve persuaded me En. I knew I could rely on you.
You did?
Yes. Your intellectual honesty, your magnanimous spirit of
enquiry, your compassion…
I don’t know, Ef – you’re making me feel…
Sorry En, forgive me for overloading you with feelings – I…
What?
I… [breaks down, sobbing convulsively]
Oh dear… there, there…
may never have the chance to express my gratitude, again.
Tush, tush… You’re, if you’ll forgive me for saying it,
looking remarkably well for someone who er…
Yes, the doctors said the same thing, but…
Come on Ef… Let’s get a spot of fresh air. Let’s head down
Tenby Street. I’d be delighted to accompany you, hand in hand.
Very good of you En [sniffing back the last of his tears]
The two of them put on their hats and coats and head out into a blustery spring day. En, to his surprise, feels little or no discomfort walking down the busy thoroughfare hand in hand with Ef, and no one, to his surprise, seems to pay them the least bit of attention. As they proceed down the street – a gliding quality – as if they’re on one of those airport moving walkways – creates a sense of strangeness, of unfamiliarity to the experience – and were it not for Ef’s hand holding him firmly – En imagines that he might have sat down or even popped into a shop for a coffee – but walking hand in hand the slightly dreamlike quality of the experience is not unbearable – in fact – a jolt…
What was that?
En splutters as he finds himself splashing in a stream he’s
just fallen in.
Trying to make head or tails of the situation. Er… rewind… Tenby Street – check – sudden jolt – check – in the water fully clothed – wait a second – night time? What on earth happened to the day – and this is…
Head reeling – En can’t make head or tails of what’s going on
– in fact – he’s still evidently a bit groggy after the Tenby experience.
We did it En.
Huh?
Ef is beaming at En… Congratulations. You made it across the
boundary.
I did? I think I made it into a nightmare. I’m soaking wet
lying in a ditch, where? Apparently in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of
the night?
No, it’s not as late as all that – but yes – there is
time-space dislocation, is there not.
Where are we Ef – if you don’t mind telling me.
Ef shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. I… er… really couldn’t
say.
What?
And frankly I don’t care.
Something inside En suddenly reacts – lack a dog with hackles
raised.
You lied to me, didn’t you?
…
En knows without a doubt that he’s dealing with something
beyond his comprehension. Ef seems to scrutinise him in the darkness, with a
luminous gaze.
I did what I had to do.
But…
He was going to say “why” but the word dies on his lips. Ef’s
gaze makes it utterly redundant.
Good – you’re seeing things more clearly now, aren’t you.
I…
Methinks we’ve learnt a lot. Perhaps you’d like to climb out
of the stream, En?
Squelching soggily Em gets out. To his surprise he sees a
fire already lit. They’re both sitting beside it, already – as if the ditch was
never there – clothes already dry.
You see, Em – the different parts of your conscious-awareness
are not yet fully integrated, as you’ve spent so long in the platform, and
assumed it was the same as reality.
Er.
So yes, you’re having issues with continuity – but don’t for
a moment doubt this is any less real for that.
I don’t – as Em breathes in the fire smoke and feels his eyes
smarting, acridly.
Well – I’m glad to learn that you’re not in fact dying of cancer Ef.
Merry.
Huh?
Merry.
Sudden dawning – bang – recognition – memory resurgence – Merry! Of course, how could I… I?... Me…
He’s getting there…
Me…
A beetle flies past, buzzily, buzzing insistently. Zzzz
Zie!
The penny
finally
droppeth
Zzzzzzie… as Tenby Street flies off towards some rather
attractive acacia trees, if a street, that is, can reasonably be expected to be
a beetle, temporarily, at least...
If an armadillo has wings…
0=1
👍👏
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