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
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
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
