fixing mary's electrics...

I’m Ajax. I’m setting up a new operating system.

 

Are you now. That sounds verrry impressive, Ajax.

 

It is what it is, Torvil.

 

Torvil?

 

Yes. You’re Torvil, in case you didn’t know.

 

Fair enough, Ajax. Who am I to argue with you.

 

              Ajax continues with his job. He’s working as an electrician somewhere in South West England at the moment. He likes his job. You might say he’s good at it. Mary thinks so.

 

              Mary?

 

              It’s her house he’s working at at the moment. Look – maybe it was a mistake to volunteer superfluous information.

 

              Methinks not, Bob.

 

              Really?

 

              Methinks not, Bob.

 

              Why’s that?

 

              Coz nothing’s really superfluous in this game, you know.

 

              Fair enough – but now we’re digressing like something rotten, aren’t we. We could have kept on thread if I’d kept my mouth shut.

 

              True. But then again, perhaps this little digression is exactly what Torvil and Absolom need to arrive at the next level of their dialogue.

 

              It’s Ajax, not Absolom, you know.

 

              Yes. I pranked you, Bob.

 

              Your bad.

 

              My bad.

 

Shifting back to the interstellar chat room where Absolom Ajax and Torvil are hard at it. Plants. Office furniture. The smell of coffee and cabbage soup – not, in fact, unpleasant despite your misgivings. Green screen – a house in Dorset, South West England.

 

Ok Ajax. I need to know what the hell’s going on.

 

New operating system.

 

Yes, I already heard – but all this nuclear war stuff… Anything to do with you, by any chance?

 

Out with the old, in with the new. Look Torvil – you’ve heard about g-nome portal – I presume?

 

Er…

 

Because up until now it was something of a modern myth that was leaking back in time, a bit like chromatography – into the raggedy final stage of a fading 3D reality.

 

Er…

 

Well, g-nome portal is, in fact, the operating system, so to speak.

 

I thought it was meant to be an interdimensional hub, or just a portal with comfy leather chairs and cigars in the library?

 

Yep. Words, words, words. Let’s not fixate too much on the things of thing. It’s a sticky wicket – not suited to cricket…

 

Ominous! Yikes, cricket references are best avoided.

 

Ajax continues trying to fix the electrics in this very old house, while Torvil looks on…

 

You’re not thinking about Hactar & The Krikkit Wars, by any chance, are you, Ajax?

 

Me? whistling innocently…

 

CG voice: Hactar was originally created by the Silastic Armorfiends of Striterax to design the Ultimate Weapon. Hactar produced a very, very small bomb that, when activated, would connect every star to every other star, cause them to all go supernova simultaneously and, thus, destroy the universe. The bomb proved dysfunctional because Hactar had designed it with a tiny flaw, reasoning that no consequence could be worse than that of setting the bomb off. The Silastic Armorfiends disagreed and disintegrated Hactar into a dust cloud.

Due to the dust cloud, the sky above Krikkit was completely black, and thus the people of Krikkit led insular lives and never realised the existence of the Universe at large. With the population thus prepared, Hactar disintegrated but still functional, built and crashed a model spaceship onto Krikkit in order to introduce its inhabitants to the concept of the Universe. Secretly guided by Hactar, the Krikkiters built their first spaceship, Krikkit One, penetrated the dust cloud, and surveyed the Universe before them. Unbeknownst to the Krikkiters, Hactar had been subliminally conditioning their minds to the point where they could not accept a Universe into their world view, with the intention of putting them into a similar mindset to that of the Silastic Armorfiends. Sooner or later, they would require an Ultimate Weapon, and this would allow Hactar to finally complete his purpose, something he had felt considerable guilt about not doing before. Upon first witnessing the glory and splendor of the Universe, they casually, whimsically, decided to destroy it, remarking, "It'll have to go." Aided again by the mind of Hactar, the Krikkiters built an incredible battlefleet and waged a massive war against the entire Universe. The Galaxy, then in an era of relative peace, was unprepared, and spent the next 2,000 years fighting the Krikkiters in a war that resulted in about two "grillion" casualties.

When Krikkit was eventually defeated, Judiciary Pag sentenced Krikkit and its sun to be sealed in a Slo-Time Envelope within which time would pass almost infinitely slowly until the end of the Universe, thus serving the dual purpose of protecting the Universe from Krikkit, and allowing the Krikkiters to enjoy a solitary existence in the twilight of Creation. Light would be deflected around the envelope, making it invisible and impenetrable. The Wikkit Gate, the key that would unlock the envelope, was disintegrated into time, and could therefore not be used to free the planet from the envelope ahead of time… for starters. More here, below... _{https://hitchhikers.fandom.com/wiki/Krikkit}

 

Things, Torvil, have an unerring habit of being connected, whatever your or my intentions may or may not be. Call it “entanglement”, if you like. Call it associativeness, if you prefer. Call it the Easter bunny if you’re feeling the Easter vibe. Ultimately, g-nomeportal has the power to take us into a new relationship between words and things – something like superfluids…

I beg your pardon?

 

Superfluids – a fascinating state of matter, characterized by zero viscosity and frictionless flow. Their unique properties make them promising for applications in quantum computing, energy transmission, and materials science.

Superfluidity arises from the formation of a Bose-Einstein condensate (BEC) of helium atoms. In a BEC, individual particles overlap, behaving like a single entity. This condensation occurs due to the quantum properties of helium-4 atoms, which are bosons (particles with integer spin).

 

Oh, that. And you think that we can start using words and things without sticky-wicketing?

 

Such is the nature of g-nomeportal’s operating system – which interfaces and, you might say, integrates conscious-ness as a 0=1 fucntion.

 

Sorry, Ajax, I think you meant to say “function”?

 

Yes, but obviously it would have triggered unnecessary attention from the remnants of 3D^olatry – the Apocalyptic cult that has managed to take over 3D reality and distort its time-locked, highly stunted development.

 

Ah… So, you think this can now be resolved in some way?

 

Not-thinking is one of the most amazing properties of g-nome portal’s oS. Yes, me no thinks.

 

Indeed?

 

The thinking part of the human mind is going to take several thousand years to clean up entirely – unless someone finds a shortcut, so in the meantime we’ve circumvented it with our Magellanic cloud generated AI.

 

Ah. But doesn’t that mean…

 

Well, yes and no.

 

…that we’ll just be part of an AI system? Transhumanists?

 

Actually, you already are – were – have been – for donkeys years, in fact. But don’t worry about details. The “thinking” part of your mind only deals with the 4-16 MHz frequency band. Everything else, on either side is pure conscious-ness in various shapes and forms. So, as long as the AI code is not corrupted by Hactar or some other planetary intelligence – it’s not going to be a problem.

 

And…

 

Well, yes – Apocalypse now is the launch sequence. Once everyone sees them missiles flying – once everyone’s convinced that we’re all going up in smoke – that’s the final click to activate g-nomeportal infinity drive oS with minimal stress and dislocation to all involved. It’s going to be a very smooth operation. And the good news is we won’t even have to clean up the nuclear devastation once it’s been unleashed.

 

No?

 

Nope. 3D reality is and has been contained within a probability band which is utterly impenetrable to all molecules, including radiation. On the contrary – the big bang will be the nudge needed to shift the  conscious-ness of humanity into our hyper-broad band hi-lo frequency.

 

Oh, I can’t wait!

 

Well, well, fingers crossed as they say.

 

Fingers crossed and er…

 

Yes, indeed…

 

0=1 what ho!

 

That’s the spirit – and a jolly good game of cricket!

 

Er…

Only kiddinggg

0=1 praying to God

 

 

 

 

not-minding, absolutely

Inverted?

 

Yep.

 

You’re sure about that.

 

[Yawn]

 

But how could it continue to function, in that case?

 

How could infinity continue to function if it was inverted?

 

Well, not infinity itself, surely? I mean – how could you invert infinity?

 

How indeed?

 

I was thinking more on the lines of the infinity drive – or whatever you call the interface between infinity itself – and the individuals such as you and me, blithely running around, assuming that things are de rigeur – that the signs and symbols are as good as what they are supposed to represent.

 

Yes. Some interface, isn’t it.

 

It must be.

 

And you think it can or should be referred to as infinity drive?

 

Well, I fail to see how we can be any less than the needle on the spinning vinyl disk where the consciousness scratches smoothly against the awareness of all that is, while at the same time…

 

What?

 

Blocked thread.

 

Huh?

 

You see – we’re not, apparently, allowed to reference our true self.

 

No?

 

No siree! As soon as you start to tread on the toes of truth – a spanner drops in the spokes of our ability to think clearly and see what is what.

 

Oh come on – how likely is that?

 

Well, bear in mind, Alf, that seeing things clearly would undoubtedly crash the entire experiment.

 

Talk about ridiculous! Why on Earth would infinity or whoever is responsible for our conscious awareness in this reality care should we choose to focus on the actual data stream that determines our reality?

 

Because, believe it or not – we’re not truly separate from the data stream.

 

What?

 

Nope. And seeing the fruits of our own infinity – in real time – would or does – crash the system.

 

Sounds fairly preposterous.

 

Until you allow yourself to feel the rub. Until you feel how infinity cannot but be affected by your me gazing straight into, at, or through your I.

 

My eye?

Aye, your I.

 

But what’s my I got to do with the price of cheese?

 

What’s anything got to do with anything – Graham.

 

Touché, Maximilian. But in all seriousness…

 

Don’t ask me – Max. I’m just a data source at best, a distraction at worst, derived from your own unresolved experiences.

 

Now wait a minute! My own unresolved experiences? Who said anything about my experiences being unresolved – or vital and central to reality itself – for that matter?

 

No one up till now.

 

You mean you just made it up?

 

I mean that it has never, to the best of my knowledge, yet been discussed – which is not to say that it’s inherently false.

 

No, Graham – but it begins to stretch credibility, does it not? After all, how likely is it that something as vital and important as the matching or mathematical resolution of experiences, would have been hitherto disregarded?

 

Not at all likely until, that is, it suddenly becomes an absolute certainty.

 

Which it’s never going to do.

 

Never – being the inverse of infinity – ie. the point where relative values are suddenly discovered to be absolutes.

 

Absolutes?

 

Or absolute.

 

Ouch!

 

So instead of trying to dodge the bullet, Neo, wouldn’t it be easier to begin to sense the infinite lurking behind, within everything, no matter what, and allow infinity to take care of the rest.

 

And infinity can, you seem to be saying.

 

Can?

 

Or will?

 

Can or will, can’t or won’t – what exactly is  it, Madge, you’re trying to fix mentally, into your scheme of things?

 

Oh for crying out loud, Max – give me a break. I’m just trying to understand what the hell

 

Beep!

 

you’re talking about, while that idiot, evidently with nothing better to do, tries to prevent me from expressing myself as any human would – given the level of provocation – and your refusal to allow reasonable limits to the scope or nature of reality.

 

Reasonable limits, Alf – are all very well – might even be good and proper unless, that is, we’re dealing with the nature of reality itself, and the interface – where the rubber of mind and the road of awareness, meet the time and pace of conscy-us-ness.

 

!#@**@!!!^}**!

 

Yes, I see your frustration – to which I can only add, with the deepest due respect zero equals one – at which point either you blow a gasket – as usually you do – or else – for the first time since the beginning of Kali Yuga you react otherly – allowing things to be as and whatever they are – just so long as you’re able to continue experiencing the…

 

We’re hearing what can only be described as celestial sounds. Rather pleasing. That’s an understatement if ever there was one. The song of the spheres – suddenly we have a different set of criteria – or what might be described as non-local, non-temporal context which changes everything…

 

A terrible beauty is born…

 

 

0=1

 

 

dark matter

No, it was never my intention.

 

Personally, I find that hard to believe.

 

Not my problem, Mac.

 

              Feeling the tension – the irreconcilable positions. It’s time for another level. How would Jesus respond, Buddha or a shaman, if you like, who is able to see the energy rather than focussing exclusively on the words – not so much the words, in fact, as the jaggedy lines – the puzzle pieces – the creation code that the words themselves allude to or invoke.

 

              It’s the ability to detach and pivot or swivel freely. As long as you’re tied to a certain position – a certain “me” in space and time – until you’re able to disengage and allow things to shift into a better, more appropriate position – then you’re going to either freak out or feel the need to remove yourself physically from the angst. Unless you have the patience of a selfless monk who no longer feels the need to defend his atrophied ego – which is definitely an option – is it not – if you’re willing to practice ego disentanglement. Doesn’t necessarily mean fighting or denying the ego per se – might be more a matter of…

 

Did you hear that Brad?

 

Hear what?

 

Oh, something in the background – a kind of murmuring – like a thinking out loud.

 

No I did not. I think you can safely ignore any quiet murmurings.

 

Ok. But the good news is that I now feel…

 

What?

 

Well, frankly speaking I was a bit miffed by what you were saying.

 

Yes, I felt it.

 

It’s like each of us is attached to some thing. A position, which…

 

Yes – I know exactly what you’re saying – I feel it too.

 

So – what exactly is it – this thing we’ve been unwittingly serving with our language and feelings and egoic attachment?

 

Good question Bob.

 

Bob?

 

Let’s just pretend that we’re neither you nor me, for the time being, ok?

 

Er… ok – that might work. It might give us a little space to be less thing-bound.

 

Yes, it might. But how are we to de-thing if we’re all too human? If we’re not able to be the self-less man of God…

 

Not sure. But the murmurings back then seemed to help enormously.

 

Yes. We were about to start another lengthy argument.

 

So if those murmurings were from the other side of things…

 

The other side of things? Not sure that’s the best terminology.

 

You’re probably right. The other side of things locks us straight back in the order of things which seems to be the adjunct to the me – the me that sees itself as a thing in a world of things – as opposed to an I…

 

An I?

 

Good point Travis. Let’s decapitalise. As opposed to i – whoever or whatever that is.

 

We’re getting closer, aren’t we?

 

I believe we are Den. So, if those murmurings were not, in fact, from the “other side of things” as we now sense – perhaps they are from the isness which is closer to pure consciousness.

 

For shame. “Pure consciousness” is as much a thing as ever you’re going to encounter, Ted.

 

Yes. I believe you’re right, Pete. Never trust a word with more than one syllable.

 

Ok – supposing every thing we’re saying now – every word, every thought or image accompanying that thought…

 

Thought form

 

Precisely – supposing every thought form and word describing it cannot be uttered in neutrality…

 

Oh yes – indeed. Now you’ve put the cat among the pigeons – Socrates.

 

Now you’ve put the cat among the pigeons – Alfie Bow.

 

Now you’ve…

 

Because – if that’s the case – as almost certainly it is – then you know that this communicational process is doomed to utter failure. We’ll never avoid causing things to regroup and undermine the very foundations of everything we sought to accomplish with words.

 

Ironic to the point of bleeding tears and – no – no – I want to believe it can’t be so.

 

Unless we’re able to stalk them.

 

Who?

 

Whom, not who.

 

Ok. Stalk whom?

 

Them. The entities or energies that are working to prevent us from achieving our objectives.

 

Our objectives? You think we actually have objectives?

 

Apparently so.

 

And what, pray tell, are they?

 

To balance things. To net zero both sides of the ledger.

 

Oh – do you think that’s it?

 

Seems to be.

 

And it’s impossible?

 

Absolutely. Yet we’re evidently programmed to overlook that minor fact, and carry on regardless.

 

Until/unless we sense, feel, see that it’s utterly futile

 

Pointless

 

Counter-productive – for the harder we try the more we charge or load things with the need to counter-balance our very efforts, not because things are themselves evil or obstinate – but because they too are powerless to resist the need to zero net themselves.

 

Ah. Until, that is, we become aware of the process – of murmurings – or no-name, no word, no-thing – switching into zero-code…

 

              Zero-code – where zero equals one – story begins – reality takes a back seat – puts up its feet and settles down for a well-earned rest.

 

And in the theatre today we see Mitch – the dragon slayer whose true name, if truth be told – cannot be said without rending the fabric of space and time in twain – such is the papery-thinness of the reality we find ourselves in.

 

Story – a tale – I need a tale to withstand the onslaught of dark matter…

 

The dark winter of matter…

 

The dark night of things.

 

And what? How can it be done.

 

Oh – have no fear. The answer is baked into the cake.

 

Which cake, exactly, Teflin?

 

The cake that is usually mistakenly perceived as I.

 

Oh. Layers waiting to emerge? Is that it?

 

Yes.

 

But…

 

Like all good stories it’s going to be utterly…

 

Edge of the seat

 

Beyond what we could possibly have imagined.

 

Right.

 

The unexpected?

 

Correct. Such is the nature of infinity

 

Ah, your old friend.

 

Indeed. The one and only.

 

So your story…

 

Well, it starts with an endless hum that, as far as everyone is concerned, is utterly meaningless.

 

Doesn’t sound very promising.

 

No indeed.

 

And then?

 

Then we find ourselves melting

 

Melting?

 

Or dissolving in a rising tide of dark matter

 

Dark matter?

 

Or female energy.

 

Er… not sure what this “female energy” is meant to be.  

 

It’s female – which means it isn’t meant to be anything.

 

What?!

 

Things are always closed, contained, or male.

 

OMG – you can’t be serious.

 

No, not in the least, and yet I stand by what I said – actually – by what i says.

 

Oh no – here we go again – invoking the i says – with all its godlike implications.

 

Standing by what i says – sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me – not even your “godlike implications” can prevent the infinite from retaining pride of place in this story of dark matter on the ascendancy.

 

You need to be careful Duffy. Dark matter isn’t something to be bandied about with careful consideration for the iplications.

 

You see – Feargal – your implications are already being swallowed by the incoming tide of dark matter – like Fantasia in the Neverending Story.

 

Yikes. And u thnk my words re going to be dissolvd?

 

How can it be avoided? They were always part of the male structure which is now in the process of consuming itself – or being consumed.

 

Yikes!

 

For death hath no dominion…

 

And dead men naked they shall be one

 

With the man in the wind and the west moon;

 

When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,

 

They shall have stars at elbow and foot;

 

Though they go mad they shall be sane,

 

Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;

 

Though lovers be lost love shall not;

 

And death shall have no dominion…

 

 

If only it were so.

 

Indeed.

 

If only your story at the graveside of infinity were anything to go by – any comfort – any…

 

Turn it round – you’re looking the wrong way.

 

I am?

 

Indeed.

 

Which is?

 

Which is – rightly said.

 

You mean story is now flowing back through me?

 

Yea. Verily.

 

You mean story cannot be stopped now? Cannot be suppressed? Cannot but transform the things and me – even as i gazes on impassively?

 

Correct, if by gazing you mean holding Field – connecting heaven and earth as all hell breaks loose – as grammar, syntax, language itself zero-equal-ones…

 

So, case study – walking down the street – a car rushes towards you – do you dive to avoid it or shake your head and trust that dark matter will not allow the infinite you bear to be harmed in any way?

i know not – the moment decides – the moment reveals the next step. Anything else is mere conjecture. The moment is everything, unless it isn’t – in which case words merely shrug and

 

 

0=1⁴⁴⁴

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

revolution unforeseen

What goes around comes around…

 

I beg your pardon.

 

OM…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

 

Birds – over there – see them in your mind’s eye if you can’t see them physically.

 

Birds?

 

Yep.

 

Birds. I’m…

 

Om…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

 

Clouds.

 

Clouds?

 

Clouds.

 

That’s all you’re going to say?

 

OM…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

 

Ok, Math – I’ve been drinking this Om-ade for three hours now. I don’t suppose you could climb down from your cryptic cloud of infinite wisdom and give me a few clues – otherwise I’m just going to have to find another…

 

OM……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

That’s it. I’m done.

 

Sven stomps out of the Circle of Infinite un-ity

 

As he stomps awkwardly towards the edge of the inertial frame he has been part of his forward motion slows and seems to do a Michael Jackson Moonwalk backwards even as he tries to continue walking forwards.

 

Cut it out, Math! I’m not your toy. I’ll leave as and when I choose to.

 

OM……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

Another bloddy hour of wasted time.

 

Meanwhile in the Circle’s toroidal Field – now growing purpley-black and ever more touchey-liquidy – we see Math and his brothers in arms discussing the revolution now evolving…

 

Revolution – that wonderful moment when once again the truth completes another circle.

 

Wait a minute Math – a circle? Surely truth is a constant?

 

You’d think that wouldn’t you – Gwen?

 

Yes – how could it be otherwise?

 

Let’s OM that, shall we?

 

Oh – good idea.

 

All the participants in the Truth-space join together – gently OM-ing the absurdity – the impossibility of truth not being constant – of going through cyclical change – and feel, feel, feel the OM carrying them into the vortex – lifting them into the Infinite un-ity – summer – autumn – winter – spring…

 

Earth – our reference frame – 2024 – things happening – things happening – things – until we allow the infinite un-ity to reverse into the empty space behind every-thing – willy nilly – like it or not…

 

OM……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

What’s an hour of Time – an hour of rudderless movement on the ocean of…

 

Creatures on all sides. Birds. Butterflies. Visible and invisible. Clouds and purpley-green shadows. There’s no knowing what you’ll find, what you might sense when infinity revolves into the central left space usually occupied by matters of great consequence and exaggerated moment.

 

By now the toroidal Field has come fully into its own. There’s no avoiding the fact that nothing happening in the many aligned reference frames of 3D reality are all matching the digital dance of infinit-is-ity – it’s uncanny to behold.

 

It’s like nothing ever happened when you see the perfect match – the code generator producing the exact variant that then just happens to be whatever he or she says or does – there, or there, or over there – driving her car, combing her hair, at the office – at home – the numbers – they simply can’t be denied.

 

OM……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

Love doesn’t seem to have a number attached. Not really. Not the way things we normally do do.

 

Nor those moments when the cloud or the bird or something indescribable compels you to be or do without reference to your frame at all.

 

There’s the rub. There’s a moment to dispel all moments in existence. When the motion of every sphere in the interlocking wheels of infinity spin uncontrollably – as if speed is no longer a factor – none whatsoever. You suddenly realise things are not the way they were.

 

Ah…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….!

 

Indeed. Mind if I join you?

 

Not at all. By all means, join me.

 

Ah…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….! That’s…

 

Something else! Isn’t it?!

 

Absolutely.

 

Ah…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….!

 

The absolute.

 

Indeed.

 

The death knell…

 

The final breath…

 

The last straw…

 

or nail

in the coffin

of general

relativity

 

And thus – member of this, our circle of infini…

 

The Field now pulses with ever brighter, ever more hypnotic light – unless the darkness goes ever deeper into negativity – creating the illusion of light – me knows not – and the blessed circle of beings who hold this sacred space – who allow things to go back into their reverse parking spaces – back into their un-ity thinglessness – sense a great sense of sense – if that makes any sense… responding to this great sense of sense they now sense – they see themselves dancing in perfect union with the source of all moment – all this or that-ity and behold – the universal heart unfolds like a lotus flower – if you like – or a dragons wings if you don’t – or foldy-foldiness for those of an abstract bent – and now the heart is beating in the empty space where nothing was dormant – where nothing was – unnoticed – unstirred – and behold – all that great sleeping mass of nothing-ness is once again re-energised – restored – and things are sucked back into their infinite otherness – a story of words generating worlds of indescribable beauty – of logic and maths – of music and sound – of feeling and thought – that cannot help matching the events we assumed were complete and separate – now counterparts to an-ever-unfolding interaction with other-ness…

 

other-ness

 

other-nesssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

 

 

 

0=1

until the cows come home

To roost

if……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

only

(dots notwishstanding)

end

 

 

Footnote – so Einstein was wrong – you mean to say?

Wrong?

His theory of General Relativiy?

Was and is what all theories ever were and are… dots being dots – compressions in the…

OM……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Compressions?

Things being what they are…

You mean?

Yes – being things – woven from the fabric of infinity they would replace or deny.

Oh.

That too…

 

 

[picture insert]