Alone on stage, pacing back and
forth, identity unclear, lost in thought...
So it’s not just a blog?
Or a website?
It’s something else?
Something more?
I’m not going to understand it, am
I?
Can only go so far with questions
and questioning?
Until my brain pops and I…
Oh hi Merry.
Hi Zie.
I thought we were dead?
Me too. It happens from time to
time.
Like Mark Twain – “The report of
my death was an exaggeration”.
Yep – but often enough the death
actually happened in an inferior story line.
Huh? What’s that meant to mean?
Oh – the universe, a.k.a. the
universal-mind allows various storylines to run concurrently – at least it does
in cases such as our own.
It does? Er…
Why?
Yes.
Because, in cases such as our own
Qufie’s flipping disks.
Oh – that’s it, is it.
Not really – not if your mind is
saying what I think it’s saying.
What’s my mind got to do with
this?
Well, it didn’t click-thunk-zing
through a half-dozen levels of interconnecting spheres.
Didn’t it?
No.
And is that bad?
Not really.
Then what’s the problem?
No problem whatsoever.
Then why the commentary?
Well, for you to really understand
something you need to reference, i.e. sniff or dab the datapoints with your
mind’s proboscis.
I do?
Yep.
Why?
Because ultimately data is
physical.
Really?
Yep.
And can’t I just understand
something intellectually – just by grasping the gist?
Yes, of course you can if the
concept in question pertains exclusively to your inertial or reference frame.
Right.
But if it don’t…
Doesn’t Merry – could you kindly
use standard grammar, if you please.
Nope. I’m still feeling Byron.
Huh?
The last post – omicronically
notZie.
No!!! Don’t mention it. The
imposter. Frauds. Copyright infringers.
Deep breath Zie. No one cares – in
any case – you can hardly blame notZie – he was insistent on not being you.
Oh – well – now that you put it
that way.
Strictly speaking you too are an
imposter, a fraud, a copyright infringer.
I beg your pardon.
Apology accepted.
The converse – I defiantly beg
your pardon.
Defiantly?
Yes.
You mean you’re defying me
respectfully.
Yes, I think that more or less
describes the situation.
The point is that you’re no more
Zie than notZie is.
Aaaaaargh! I’m not hearing this.
Not. Not. Not. Not. Not. Be gone. Avaunt foul fiend!
Ok – but you do realise that you
won’t actually exist if I leave.
What?
You won’t exist.
Of course I will.
Wanna test my assertion?
Not really – I just want you to
go.
Ok. I’m gone.
Bloody cheek. As if I could stop
existing just because Merry has gone.
THE LAMP must be replenish’d,
but even then
It will not burn so long as I
must watch.
My slumbers—if I slumber—are
not sleep,
But a continuance of enduring
thought,
Which then I can resist not: in
my heart
There is a vigil, and these
eyes but close
To look within; and yet I live,
and bear
The aspect and the form of
breathing men.
But grief should be the
instructor of the wise;
Sorrow is knowledge: they who
know the most
Must mourn the deepest o’er the
fatal truth,
The Tree of Knowledge is not
that of Life.
Philosophy and science, and the
springs
Of wonder, and the wisdom of the
world,
I have essay’d, and in my mind
there is
A power to make these subject
to itself—
But they avail not: I have done
men good,
And I have met with good even
among men—
But this avail’d not: I have
had my foes,
And none have baffled, many
fallen before me—
But this avail’d not:—Good, or
evil, life,
Powers, passions, all I see in
other beings,
Have been to me as rain unto
the sands,
Since that all—nameless hour. I
have no dread,
And feel the curse to have no
natural fear,
Nor fluttering throb, that
beats with hopes or wishes,
Or lurking love of something on
the earth.
Now to my task.—
Are you done yet, Zie?
I thought I asked you to leave.
Yes, you did.
So what are you doing here, for
God’s sake.
Er beep… sorry to be a crushing
bore dear chap – but could you kindly refrain from taking-in-vainities?
No. Not unless you leave.
But I did leave.
Yes, for seven minutes, and then
you returned… and I’m perfectly well thanks.
Seven minutes?
Give or take.
Zie – I’m not one to thrust the
hard pumice stone of reality down the throat of a pelican…
No?
No, in fact – I’m rather enamoured
of poetic licence and allowing people to see things howsoever they like…
Merry – what on Earth are you on
about?
I’ve been gone 27 years.
Nonsense.
Give or take a few hours, minutes
and days.
Utter… My God – what’s that?
It’s the latest smart conveyance.
Smart conveyance – like a car you
mean?
Well yes – used to be cars –
before we made a little quantum leap forward in our understanding of space and
inertial frames. Actually, I like to
imagine I played not a small part in that discovery.
Merry – would you kindly quit
twittering. How on earth can your car fit into a pocket device. Jesus Christ!
Beep!
Ok, ok – I get you.
Zie starts hyperventilating.
Luckily Merry has a defibrillator, a box of ice and a hundred-gallon tub of cold
water waiting in the wings – just ready for the occasion.
Splash!
Was that absolutely necessary?
Yes. I think it was.
Oh.
You see – the time jump is
manageable until you start to think about it – that’s when the circuitry starts
smoking and… well, things can get messy very quickly.
In that case, thank you Merry for
saving my life.
You’re welcome Zie.
Zie… but am I actually Zie – I
mean – apparently I ceased to exist for 27 years while I recited the opening
lines of Manfred.
Manfred? That’s nice. Glad to hear
you weren’t wasting your time. By the way – what’s Manfred?
?! You’re kidding, right?
Er… no.
You’ve got to be.
I assure you.
It’s one of Byron’s most famous
poems.
Byron – who’s that?
Oh God.
Beep!
How on earth am I supposed to
avoid cussing if the entire world I thought I belonged to has been completely
rescripted?
Well, what do you expect?
How about continuity?
Continuity? Do you really want to
go back to the old world you came from – where it takes hours to drive from a
to b physically – and where people actually sat down with pens and a piece of
paper – or at computers – tapping away – slotting words together in order to
access the quantum field in the process of writing what they called pottery.
Poetry. We call it poetry, not
pottery.
Ok, big difference.
Actually, I rather like the old
world of cars and trains, of tapping away at plastic keys and letting thoughts
flow through a…
A what?
Funny – as soon as I was going to
say “mind” my mind stopped working – self-consciously.
Yes. Which is why, you were unable
to evolve beyond your paradigm – in the old days.
Er…
Because the mind was always fixed
to some kind of frame – and could never actually, never really unmask itself.
Er…
Great at moving deckchairs, at
twiddling nobs and understanding “things” – the things you’d write about and
describe in inordinate detail – assuming that you were approaching the truth –
the sum total of knowledge – while in fact…
In fact we were merely describing
the outer rim of an inertial frame – that we were mentally bound to see a
certain way – until/ unless we were ready to deal with the root issue.
The root issue – precisely.
The connection point.
Yes. You nailed it.
Which is what I’ve been doing all
this time.
Which is precisely what you’ve
been doing for the last 27 years.
So I wasn’t just reciting poetry.
No, of course not.
But did I exist at the time?
At the time?
Yes – during those 27 years.
Ah – you see – it’s only 27 years
in terms of the new now – the new here.
It is?
Yep.
And in terms of the old ‘un?
That’s just the thing.
It is?
How to break this to you in the
gentlest possible way?
No – you’re not going to say a
Vogon construction fleet blasted my beloved Earth out of the sky in order to
build a hyperspace bypass, are you?
Do I need to?
No. I know it’s more or less true,
isn’t it?
More or less. Of course there are
countless ways of describing what happened to the old Earth – depending on your
culture and preferred mode of perceiving reality.
Merry pours another bucket of ice
into the already frigid tub and gets Zie to take another dip – precautionary
measure, you understand. It’s just the circuitry is rather delicate and does
have the propensity for melting when significant quantum events are
encountered.
Splutter – bubble – globby glop.
Yes Zie – I think you’re looking
much more secure now. Your field seems to have firmed up considerably.
It has?
Yes.
You’re just saying that to make me
feel good, aren’t you?
No, I abhor deception of any kind.
Ha. Good joke.
Zie has his first full-on laugh in
the new version of reality he now finds himself in. Good move – nothing like
chesty or even throaty laughter to firm up the field.
Teeth chattering Zie emerges from
the tub. Merry touches the screen on his smart conveyance and Zie’s clothes are
instantly dry.
Pretty smart, that car thing of
yours.
You could say.
Merry – I’ve been meaning to ask…
Yes?
How many narrative versions are
we…
Part of?
Yes.
Oh – numbers – you know – silly
little things really.
But really – is there no way of
telling?
There’s always a way – if you
really want it – but ask yourself this – is it worth the price?
The price? What price?
Well – you can always access the
data – but if to do so you literally have to move heaven and earth – to
reorganise the universe – you might find that’s more trouble than it’s worth.
But surely…
Surely what?
Surely it can’t be so difficult to
get a simple answer to my question?
Well – remember how your mind
froze up when you started probing your inertial reference frame – I’m mixing
these terms up to keep it nice and vague – you understand, don’t you?
Yes, of course – vague and safe
from harm. Yes, I remember. What of it?
Well, the same is true of God.
Of God?
Or the universal mind.
Ah – I see.
Yes. Whenever you endeavour to pin
down the universal mind – to force him/her/it to definitise what is
concurrently running on multiple channels – you’re basically asking him/her/it
to stop dead in his/her/its tracks. To please you. To satisfy a vague need to
know. An urge. A – dare I call it – a whim.
Yes, now that you put it that way
– I see what you mean.
The universal mind – or God – if
you don’t mind the term – doesn’t exactly remonstrate – but it’s rather a
palaver – and more to the point…
Yes – I’m getting some kind of
intuitive download Merry.
Excellent. That means you don’t
need to definitise anymore – which means you’ve rebooted and are no longer compulsively
fixing things in 3D mindspace.
Ah – that’s what we were doing,
was it?
Yes.
The whole time?
Towards the end – yes. But earlier
in prehistory right through to the dark ages – there was some of that going on
– but far less. There was plenty of good ol’ aboriginal dreamtime or shadow
walking. Dragons and quantum anomalies abounded.
So as we came towards the end of
cycle, into the age of compulsive materialism known as the modern – everything
went haywire – we… how bizarre.
Bizarre – but at the same time –
completely normal.
Really?
Yes. How else were you to bring
the old paradigm to a conclusion?
You mean to say – we overloaded it
intentionally?
Yep. I mean – obviously you weren’t
consciously aware that was what you were doing – but that’s how your collective
i, collective conscious-ness got you to do what was required.
So we were salmon swimming back to
our old spawning grounds, were we?
Yep. More or less.
And what happened to those extraordinary
mind maps we created? Colossal monuments of things pinned, things tagged and cross-referenced,
twisted and shaped into vast data cities in a matter-denominated metaverse?
Oh – they’re all on display.
All of them?
Yep.
There must be millions?
Yes. 92 billion – give or take the
odd gap in the records caused by glitches or blindspots.
Hey – how come you can name that
figure but not…
Theory of y-nay-wist-ology. Great
topic for a winter’s eve by a crackling log fire. Somewhat precipitous to dive
into at this juncture in the proceedings. Why not focus on what we have and can
for the time being. Like I said – they’re on display at the central gallery of
the conscious mind. We can go there this afternoon – if you like. It’ll help
you come to terms with the shift.
Oh. I’m not sure I should.
Righteo Zie – no one’s forcing you
to do anything – but seeing those mindscapes that you and your fellow 3Dlings
were creating so fervently, even obsessive-compulsively – it will definitely
help bring closure to that phase of your existence.
Existence…
Zie suddenly grows morose – then
starts shaking convulsively – recalling the fact that he doesn’t apparently
exist without Merry’s oversight, nothing more than an occasional character in a
faceless blog.
Tut tut tut – rather
self-indulgent if you don’t mind me saying. Never mind. No one’s perfect. I myself…
Glip! – Zie seamlessly continues
Merry’s narration:
myself am peculiarly susceptible
to draughts… ha bloody ha.
Beep!
Oops. Look er Merry – have you got
any more of that ice? I fancy another quick cool off.
As if by magic – no – let’s not
use that expression – in this version of reality things are the least of
our problems – they just happen to happen without any great difficulty – the
quantum field being what it is – or nought – so yes – with the aid of Merry’s
smart conveyance – another tub of ice-cold water is now wheeled in by lab
assistants in white coats. None of us pay any great attention to that detail –
as our spidey truth sense tells us it’s peripheral – a bit like Qufie having a
laugh – or God for that matter – keeping things unpredictable, as he is wont to
do.
Zie emerges from the tub an hour
later – positively shining with health and vigour.
No need Merry – he says – as he
dries himself with the flick of a finger.
Oh – impressive! Well done Zie.
You’ve joined the dots.
Apparently the smart conveyance is
a training tool for newbies – just till they get the hang of things – i.e. of things
not being the big deal they used to be – while in the mindspace of matter-matters-inordinately
that we hitherto called 3D.
Yes – I think that would be a
great idea Merry – I haven’t been to a good exhibition for donkey’s years.
Ah – well – let’s go via Chinois –
it’s a…
Yes – I see.
Problem Zie – they don’t – not all
of them – our onliners.
Oops – sorry guys. It’s a rather
special little café Merry has been frequenting for the last 14 years – while I was
apparently pupating.
Your car or mine?
Oh – I love driving – let me see –
Zie flicks through the catalogue – the mind’s eye is now working beautifully –
how about this one?
Ah – the Byron barouche – retro –
very nice.
Just tell me one thing Merry.
Sure. What is it?
There’s no way that I’m now just
part of a virtual, simulated reality – is there?
Excellent question Zie.
You mean you’re not going to
answer it.
I mean – what do you think 3D was
all about?
Ah – testing the how-real-is-real
factor to the limit.
Correct.
Through pain – among other things.
Affirmative. What could be more
real than pain – real physical and emotional suffering?
But if I’m now past all that…?
You would be lost, wouldn’t you –
in an ocean of anythingability.
Nice word. So what gives? How do I
keep that feet-on-the-ground sense of reality if anything’s doable, n’ basically
at my fingertips?
Er… I thought we’d discuss that
tomorrow – after you’ve been to the exhibition. Close one door before opening
the next.
Fair enough – but just a teeny-weeny
spoiler would be greatly appreciated.
I bet it would. Fancy another hour
in the ice tub?
Zie tosses the two images into the
air above his mind – Chinois with its incredible cuisine, or viewing the next
iteration of what-on-earth-is-holding-it-all-together if gravity ain’t?
Ding.
That was quick Zie. Merry feels
the computations going quantum.
Ding – zzzzing – jjjjumbrek!
Spheres spin and rearrange themselves relative to Zie’s current conscious
awareness as his mind’s proboscis taps different realms of data, pulling him
almost beyond endurance into contradictory or competing versions of reality.
Zie back flips into the icetub, newly loaded, and keeps his bio-circuitry smoke
free and hyper-operational – aware that Qufie has just bonussed him a new avatar
– a cross between a dragonfly and a racoon – which is busily setting up home in
a lush and leafy realm of the data-down-to-earth o’sphere.
That feels – wow!
The mind unhinged – then rehinged
– yes. To infinity and then, incredibly, back to normalcy.
Beyond weird. In the old 3D that
would have basically caused a massive cerebral embolism.
Er… I think more likely an
aneurism – but what ho – yes – it would have devasted the fragile biology of
the mindscaping mind. You were never really able to run more than one inertial
field at any one time back then.
Right.
So anything you want to share with
the…
Oh – excuse me dear readers – how
inconsiderate of me.
Indeed.
Apparently all is not lost. I’m
still operating aspects of my self – extensions, if you like – in multiple 3D
realities. So I can still condescend – in the original sense of the word – pop
down into the heavy stuff for a dose of gravity, for a little largely unattainable
physical, mental or emotional pain.
If you so desire. No obligation of
course.
Or even lower – down into stones,
trees and creatures which are part of my family group, my lineage too.
Exactly.
Wow – that means I can literally
go back millions of years into the past… to spend time researching breaks or messy
links in the web of inter-connectedness – branches and splits in the narrative.
Yep. There’s a lot to work on.
Infinity is, after all, a full-time profession.
Come on then – I already have an
inkling what my first project’s gonna be.
Ah…
Poor old Byron somehow got
scrubbed out as I transitioned through non-existence. I wonder why.
Byron?
Forget about it Merry. I’ll fill you in over lunch.
And the rest – dear reader – as they say – is history. Speaking of which – this has come in from God only knows where…
Beep!
No idea what to make of it. Looks
pre-Vogon to me…
Mysterious Agency!
Ye spirits of the unbounded
Universe,
Whom I have sought in darkness and
in light!
Ye, who do compass earth about,
and dwell
In subtler essence! ye, to whom
the tops
Of mountains inaccessible are
haunts,
And earth’s and ocean’s caves
familiar things—
I call upon ye by the written
charm
Which gives me power upon
you—Rise! appear! [A pause.
They come not yet.—Now by the
voice of him
Who is the first among you; by
this sign,
Which makes you tremble; by the
claims of him
Who is undying,—Rise!
appear!—Appear! [A pause.
If it be so.—Spirits of earth and
air,
Ye shall not thus elude me: by a
power,
Deeper than all yet urged, a
tyrant—spell,
Which had its birthplace in a star
condemn’d,
The burning wreck of a demolish’d
world,
A wandering hell in the eternal
space;
By the strong curse which is upon
my soul,
The thought which is within me and
around me,
I do compel ye to my will.
Appear! [A star is seen at the darker
end of the gallery: it is stationary; and a voice is heard singing.
Looks like Zie’s got his work cut
out for him – little does he suspect the consequences of rescuing Byron’s ghost
from the dark matter of nought-y-ness.
0=1
cuckoo la la
