losing the plot with william blake

Nothing?

 

I’m sleeping.

 

What?

 

Sleeping, can’t you see?

 

Fade out

 

 

 

You just sat there. You were holding something in your left hand.

 

My phone.

 

Right. You were holding your phone and then you just

 

Zonked out.

 

Oh.

 

Terribly sorry.

 

But...

 

What?

 

We have a full transmission.

 

You do?

 

Yes.

 

Cool. How did that happen?

 

Apparently you’re operating in other

 

Other what?

 

There doesn’t seem to be an English language word.

 

Oh. Russian?

 

No, Russian neither.

 

So call me when you decide what you’re trying to say.

 

Cuts out

 

 

 

You think it’s ok to just cut out like that?

 

Er…

 

How are we going to make sense of all this?

 

Er…

 

When you keep skipping off into the void.

 

Er…

 

And saying “Er” like you’ve got nothing better to utter.

 

Er…

 

I give up.

 

Cut₁

 

 

 

Three years later

 

A lot of water has passed under the bridge, M.

 

Uh huh.

 

Apparently the whole of reality is time stamped.

 

Yep.

 

So “nothing happenin” is not, in fact, nothing.

 

Yep.

 

It marks a point in time, or in a thought process.

 

Yep.

 

In fact, paradoxically, “nothin happening” could be a great deal more than something – literally anything else happening.

 

Could it?

 

Yep.

 

For example?

 

For example – imagine a society where people are just going through the motions – living by rote – talking for the sake of talking – doing stuff just to get by, with no deeper sense of truth or wonder or beauty.

 

Ok.

 

In such a society – people could be completely inured to all that is meaningful – they’re spiritually disconnected – so silence could well be the most powerful statement – coz whatever else you say or do is going to be absorbed by the slime of burgerland.

 

Maybe.

 

But tell me, M…

 

Yes.

 

How did we get the transcript for a full show if you fell asleep.

 

No idea.

 

Oh.

 

I could speculate.

 

Could you?

 

But what’s the point?

 

Oh. I guess you’re right.

 

 

 

Cut

 

 

Temporal dislocation – apparently, we’re now back at “Cut₁” but the next entry is not “Three years later”.

 

No?

 

No, apparently – cut – there’s nothing “apparently” about it at all – it’s a cold hard fact…

 

What?

 

 

Three days later…

 

Oh! I see what you mean.

 

 

Three days, M – three days have passed since you last closed the thread.

 

Three days? You’re lucky it wasn’t three years Zlata.

 

Three years? I can’t imagine why you’re showing so little regard for our long suffering subscribers.

 

Pshaw! Long suffering subscribers?! Give me a break.

 

I have, M. 3 whole days – and frankly I don’t know why I bother when all I get from you is disrespect and sass.

 

Oh.

 

Oh. Somehow I doubt you’re able to feel repentant. You seem to have gone off into the quantum soup of time-be-damned – a relativistic void from which few, if any return.

 

Yes. It is rather problematic, Zlata – which is why, as you know, most people know intuitively to leave well enough alone, to avoid the abyss.

 

Yes.

 

Coz we lose all traction when we slip out of linear time.

 

Indeed.

 

We are swallowed, easily, into the belly of infinity, and how, how on Earth do you return to some kind of normalcy?

 

How indeed? How indeed? But in our case things are a bit different.

 

They are?

 

Oh yes.

 

How so?

 

We have the transcript.

 

We do?

 

Grrrr! Give me a break you apathetic lump of quantum metabolism.

 

Oh, ok. Here you are.

 

What on Earth is that?

 

Look at it.

 

It’s hard to focus my eyes. What is?

 

Plasma goo.

 

Plasma goo.

 

Or call it whatever you like. It’s what you asked for.

 

It is?

 

Yep. It’s a break.

 

I wasn’t speaking literally, you know.

 

I know – but it really doesn’t matter – does it. Words, ultimately have the propensity to stab us in the back and hold us fully accountable.

 

Er… ok. A break. Some kind of plasmoid – that seems fairly benign but could be, potentially, lethal.

 

Good description. Colour?

 

Do you have to use British English spelling?

 

Not really – I can say it instead. “Colour”.

 

Nope. You said it with a “u” too.

 

Damn!

 

Hey – watch it.

 

Watch what?

 

Your tongue.

 

Since when were you concerned about mild expletives, Zlata?

 

Not me, M – the plasmoid.

 

Since when were you concerned about a non-descript plasmoid?

 

That’s just the thing – M – it seems utterly non-descript but when you said the “d” word.

 

You mean “damn”?

 

Wincing  Please, M, I implore you. Puff doesn’t like it.

 

Puff the plasmoid? Please, Zlata, tell me you’re having me on.

 

Didn’t you see?

 

See what?

 

It rippled, it almost coloured when you said “d”.

 

Damn?

 

Aow! Cut it out, M.

 

Damn, damn, damn 

 

Unbeknownst to M the plasmoid starts vibrating ever faster, drawing in ever more energy from the vacuum and suddenly kind of burps.

 

What the heck?

 

I warned you M.

 

What is it?

 

No, don’t touch it, M. I suspect it’s a kind of quantum anomaly – a time bubble or something like that.

 

Give me a break, Zlata. You know nothing about plasmoids.

 

I don’t need to. I just felt what was happening to Puff.

 

“Puff the magic dragon”. Look, I’m going to pop this bubble and demonstrate that it’s…

 

Oh dear!

 

M vanishes, to re-emerge 3 years later.

 

 

Oh my.

 

Are you ok M?

 

I don’t know. I’m feeling an overpowering sense of

 

Déjà vu?

 

Yes, how did you know?

 

No matter M.

 

No matter? Literally?

 

No matter. As in “nothing”, think nothing of it.

 

Oh no. The déjà vu is intensifying.

 

It is?

 

It’s too much. I’m going to drown.

 

Really M, stop being so dramatic. You’re just experiencing some mild temporal dislocation. Puff has this under control.

 

Puff? Suddenly dawning. You mean to say Puff is responsible for me blacking out?

 

No, M, I mean nothing of the sort. You are entirely responsible. You triggered a time event by cussing Puff.

 

Oh, so it’s an my fault, is it? Anyway, how long have i been out for the count?

 

You weren’t exactly out for the count, M.

 

No?

 

No. Just out.

 

Ok, whatever, quit splitting hairs. For Chrissake, Zlata.

 

Ominous plasmic growling.

 

Er... Sorry Fluff.

 

Her name is Puff, M. Kindly show a little respect.

 

Will do. My apologies Puff. Now answer the bloody question.

 

Another burp of time vacuity appears before M.

 

You wanted déjà vu, M? You got it.

 

Yikes. Puff. I’m an idiot. I apoligise.

 

Spell it right M.

 

Must I?

 

Yes, otherwise it’s null and void.

 

D****! Sigh... I apologise Puff, and Zlata and the Chris whose name i invoked, t notwithstanding.

 

Ok.  The time vacuity flups back to unfullness.

 

Three years.

 

Three years? I was out for three years?

 

Yes.

 

All for nothing.

 

Yep. Nothing ventured nothing gained.

 

Oh.

 

Actually Puff can reel you back like a fish if you like.

 

He can?

 

She.

 

Oops. She can?

 

If you like.

 

This I’ve got to experience.

 

Ok... Here goes.

 

What are you doing Zlata? Put it down.

 

Don’t worry M, I’m not really going to kill you. Just have to create a little ripple in your continuum.

 

With a hand grenade?

 

Pulling the pin.

 

Eeeeeeek!

 

The grenade explodes but before anything untoward happens M finds himself floundering like a fish on dry land, flapping and flailing desperately trying to find some kind of purchase, something to push against, some kind of medium but to no avail.

 

Help! I can’t swim in whatever this is.

 

Correct, M. But if you’d kindly cease thrashing around I’d be happy to reel you in.

 

Oh. Er... thanks.

 

Think nothing of it.

 

Nothing? Er... Do I know you? I don’t believe...

 

Puff. Your arch nemesis.

 

You? You’re Puff?

 

As you see.

 

But I don’t see. You’re... how can I describe you?

 

However you like.

 

Let me see...

 

Your wish is my command!

 

A different kind of vision switches on. You’re the most beautiful, scintillating, golden dragon-like being I’ve ever encountered.

 

Why thank you, M. The last time your description was somewhat less flattering.

 

I know. Please forgive me. How could I have so misread your energy?

 

Precisely because you were ignoring my energy and merely looking at my 3D formity.

 

But couldn’t you have a more impressive 3D form Puff?

 

Not really, M.

 

Why not?

 

If I diverted all or most my energy into establishing an ambassadorial 3D formity I’d have to give up my plasmic domain. I’d have to trade infinity for a steaming pile of doo-doo, otherwise known as matter.

 

Hey! Matter’s not that bad. Have a little consideration for us physical beings. We work damn 🌩️ hard keeping things together in...

 

Oh dear M. I understand life is tough in 3D but can’t you see here what your expletives are doing?

 

From the void of timelessness, out of the sound and thought trails of M’s last “damn” were bubbling hellish vortices of something repugnant, something threatening and antithetical to life and joy and ³.

 

Yikes! Me? I did that?

 

You could say. Give me a second while I neutralise the nastiness leaking into our...

 

Our what?

 

Careful M, you’re depleting yourself and I need to get you back to where you technically died.

 

When Zlata tossed a hand grenade at me?

 

No M. You technically died when you somewhat foolishly treated the vacuity of time as a laughing matter.

 

Oh. But, wasn’t I just alive a moment ago?

 

Three years after disappearing from “the face of the earth, Zlata and I managed to extricate you from the infinite flux of any-thing-ity.

 

Oh! You saved my life?!

 

Kind of.

 

I’m truly grateful. Truly.

 

Ah, that’s more like it! Well done M.

 

You appreciate gratitude?

 

I’m not quite the same as your 3D human beings, M. Your gratitude reconnects you with your greater Is, your allness, your whole, and strengthens your luminosity. You should be able to feel me reeling you in.

 

Oh yes, I do. I feel it. Weird, very weird, like your pulling me from inside my stomach.

 

That’s right.

 

So when I was cursing or trying to define where we are...

 

You were depleting your energy and growing ever fainter. You were in danger of slipping through the net, back into infinity.

 

But isn’t this infinity here?

 

Believe it or not, M, everything is infinity, or everywhere, but some levels of infinity are mire real seeming than others.

 

In what way?

 

In the sense that here, for example, you still have sufficient energy to see and talk with me.

 

Ah.

 

And I can be of some assistance to you.

 

But if I depleted my energy and sank to a lower level...

 

There’s no saying or no knowing. Infinity is, after all, infinite.

 

But you, Puff, would i be able to access your ness?

 

No, me thinks not. It would be like going down to an atomic level, or beyond.

 

Beyond atomic?

 

Yes, for example photonic.

 

Oh. So we’re more advanced than atoms or photons?

 

No M. You are that you are, more or less, which means that at your own positional level you are best able to become more conscious of your true nature, your isness, and thus square the circle, thus become complete.

 

Ah.

 

Whereas, were you to sink down to a level beneath your own, you’d have to somehow figure out how to re-ascend to your “proper” position in the continuum in order to then achieve completeness.

 

Ok, I can accept that.

 

You can equally not accept that and be none the worse.

 

Huh?

 

Not accepting what Is is not a bad thing, in the same way leaving your home and going on a long voyage is not a bad thing if you like travelling, or if you’re keen to learn what other countries or cultures have to teach you.

 

Oh. But if I just want to get straight back to my optimal comfort zone?

 

You would consult your totality.

 

My totality?

 

Your allness, your isness, call it what you will.

 

And it could get me home in a jiffy?

 

Absolutely.

 

Absolutely? Why does that word ring alarm bells Puff?

 

The Absolute is a bit like God, isn’t it?

 

And?

 

The Absolute can do anything whatsoever if you’re willing to let it do so.

 

And?

 

You might not be willing to.

 

Er... why not?

 

You might have entangled yourself in all kinds of conflicting narratives which are a bit like wires or tape passing around or even through you. The Absolute can absolutely cut through all these like a knife through butter. They are merely narratives or computer code, you could say.

 

So what’s the problem then?

 

The problem is whether you would remain whole or fragment into a million pieces like a crystal vase.

 

Gulp!

 

If those narratives are ugly, pernicious, demented they would draw life force from you, investing it, sending it into pet projects which might have become more real, more vibrant, more alive than you. Extricating yourself from this cat’s cradle of false allegiances might require great patience and forbearance, if indeed it can be done.

 

Oh dear. Is that the way you see me?

 

Tush tush, M. Forbear! Again you are depleting yourself. We’re not quite back yet.

 

But what about you Puff?

 

What about me?

 

Are you...

 

 

Beep beep beep!

 

 

Wake up M. Open your eyes.

 

Oh, hi Zlata. I was talking with Puff.

 

With Puff?

 

Your dragon.

 

Huh? M are you ok?

 

Er, I’m not sure. When is this, can you tell me?

 

What do you mean when? It’s now.

 

Yes, I know that, but is this before i foolishly stepped into Puff’s time anomaly or...

 

Honestly M, I don’t know what’s come over you. First you zonk out, mid way through our live stream broadcast leaving me to hold the fort, to talk to our audience off the cuff all by myself.

 

Oh, how did you get on Zlata?

 

How did I get on? How do you think?

 

I expect you did really well.

 

Really?

 

Yes. I know you have a deep, intuitive connection with the Field.

 

Er M, what’s come over you? It’s not like you to be so...

 

But it’s true Zlata. I misjudged you horribly in the past, didn’t I, before I met Puff.

 

My dragon?

 

Yes.

 

And what did my dragon tell you M?

 

It’s not important, really, what she told me.

 

No?

 

It’s more important where we were.

 

And where exactly were you?

 

Quite literally nowhere.

 

Nowhere?

 

And nowhen, I kid you not.

 

Oh. And how did it feel?

 

It was good because I was with Puff, and Puff helped me see or feel something I never saw or felt before.

 

Oh. I’m glad.

 

Me too. But what did you talk to them about.

 

That? You want to know about the show?

 

Of course I do.

 

Why?

 

Because it’s important.

 

Is it? Are you sure?

 

Yes, otherwise I wouldn’t ask, would I?

 

I hardly know, M.

 

Well?

 

Well I found myself talking about Blake.

 

Blake? The poet?

 

Of course, who else.

 

And what were you saying?

 

You know how it is...

 

Really Zlata, I’d love to hear.

 

Er... Well he was this mystic, this visionary living in 18^th century London during the time of the American war of independence and the French revolution.

 

Right.

 

And he wrote these poems that almost no one bothered to read in his lifetime, illustrating them and printing them on his very own press, barely making eggs meet.

 

Sounds rather sad to me.

 

Yes, but he persisted; he lived his life remaining true to his rather eccentric mission, accompanied by his loving wife, and then he died, like a saint if the eyewitness description is reliable.

 

To be buried in a pauper’s grave, if my memory serves me correctly.

 

Yes. But then a hundred years later his work was rediscovered and he’s never looked back.

 

Because he’s dead.

 

Yes, but...

 

Hey... Zlata what’s happening to you? Are you ok.

 

Oh nothing M. Nothing...

 

You seem to be shrinking.

 

I...

 

Oh my God. Where is she? Zlata! Ow, ow, ow, what’s that yanking my stomach. Ow!

 

Cut

 

 

M, I can’t believe it. You’re back! Look Puff.

 

Oh, this is getting rather confusing.

 

Not surprising. Infinity is the one thing guaranteed to blow your mind.

 

Yes, I think I see why.

 

Which is why we invested so much in this so-called reality.

 

So you know about that too.

 

Duh! It would be a bit hard for me not to.

 

How come?

 

M looks at how Puff the plasmoid and Zlata now seem to be fully connected and comfortably one.

 

Oh. I see.

 

You do?

 

Yes. You know whatever Puff is thinking, don’t you.

 

Kind of.

 

So... Ow my head.

 

Careful M, if you try to hard to put all the pieces in place you’ll perhaps explain the past but lise everything else.

 

Everything else?

 

Like the present.

 

You think so?

 

Well, as you’ve already been to hell and back I think you should know so.

 

But I didn’t go to hell Zlata.

 

No?

 

No, it was... Ow, ow, my head.

 

I did warn you.

 

But I can’t just stop thinking and trying to explain what is what, can i!

 

They, M, is precisely what you need to do.

 

But then what would I do with myself? Explaining things is my main purpose in life.

 

Is it?

 

 Well, it was...

 

How about Fluff.

 

Fluff? I already got in trouble for that.

 

For what?

 

For misnaming your dragon.

 

Oh, Fluff is not mine?

 

No, then whose?

 

Everyone has a plasmoid, M.

 

Everyone?

 

Well yes, as all of us are now able to access the quantum Field.

 

We are?

 

Where have you been living, bro, under a rock?

 

Yes, I rather think I have. So you’re saying i have a plasmoid too?

 

Well how else do you explain all your continuity lapses?

 

Oh, insanity, perhaps... fatigue... dementia...

 

Are you going to invite Fluff into the dialogue or not, M?

 

I’m not sure I can Zlata. I’m not sure about this. Fluff sounds such a silly name for my dragon.

 

Well, naturally, he’s chosen a name to take you down a notch or two, hasn’t he.

 

Oh great.

 

If it’s any consolation M, it’s not his real name.

 

No?

 

Just a handle to get you started.

 

Oh i see.

 

In any case, I think you’ve already met him.

 

No, I think I’d know if I’d already met my dragon Zlata.

 

Don’t be so sure of yourself M. They come from all-that-is-not-3D so we are like newborn children by comparison.

 

Oh dear, it’s going to be that kind of patronising relationship is it?

 

Well, how did it feel when you were lost between worlds?

 

I was talking to Puff so it felt fine, you know.

 

For a brief moment Puff reveals her dragony essence. There’s clearly some discrepancy.

 

Oh. It wasn’t Puff?

 

Careful M. Trying too hard to figure things out just gets you tied up in figures of things.

 

But i can’t just stop thinking...

 

You can do something better.

 

I can?

 

Yes, you can start fluffing.

 

Ha ha, very funny.

 

No really, M. If not now then when... Otherwise how are you going to escape from the vacuity of time?

 

Oh no, not again...

 

Cut

 

 

M wakes groggily to find what looks like a big shaggy dog licking his face. He gets to his feet to see Zlata beaming at him.

 

Oh splendid, M, you’re just in time for the William Blake livestream.

 

It’s taken care of, Zlata.

 

Huh?

 

You’re doing it yourself.

 

I am?

 

Yes, otherwise Puff won’t make it.

 

Puff?

 

Or Fluff.

 

Fluff? Oh dear Michelangelo, perhaps you do need a rest. You’ve been working so hard. Why don’t I take care of the show this evening?

 

Yes, I would really appreciate that and Zlata, i know you’ll do a wonderful job!

 

Oh!

 

Warm feelings rippling through the vacuum of time and space, as two dragons prepare to plant a small part of their infinite awareness in plasmic dust somewhere here in 3D so-called reality.

 

0=1

merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily

so sang a little clod of clay;

tyger, tyger burning bright

i fear the forest of the night

3,343

 

emma's maculate conception

By the way, I’m pregnant.

 

Oh. That’s er... Are you sure?

 

Oh yes, i got the test results today. Isn’t it wonderful?

Oh yeah, er... wonderful! I’m blown away!

 

I expect you’re wondering how a biological male now identifying as a woman can actually be pregnant?

 

Well yes, I will confess the thought crossed my mind, but if you’ve fully transitioned then why not. Medicine can do wonders these days, can it not?

 

Medicine, Zlata? Yes, I suppose it can, but not even medicine can override basic biology, believe it or not. Not yet, at least.

 

Oh.

 

No, this is not a medical success story, Zlata, not in the usual sense.

 

Then what?

 

Hear that quiet whirring, humming sound in the background?

 

Yes, I was wondering what it was.

 

Well wonder no more.

 

You mean that ring on your hand.

 

Not exactly a ring but you’re close enough.

 

Then what exactly is it?

 

Look more closely. What do you see?

 

Eugh! It seems to be moving.

 

Yes, it does indeed. To all intents and purposes you’re looking at a living being, which for the sake of simplicity we usually refer to as “infinity drive”.

 

That?

 

Yep.

 

But it’s tiny.

 

I know, but don’t be deceived Zak, it can be huge, essentially any size.

 

I can’t take this in, M.

 

Oh, better call me Emma. Gotta play the part now that I’m certified pregnant.

 

Oh, yes of course, Emma. Sorry i misnamed you.

 

Think nothing of it Zak. How were you to know?

 

I... should have been more sensitive.

 

Ed. Shouldn’t that be Zlata?

James. Yes, but we’re leaving it as Zak.

Ed. Why?

James. Because there’s an ongoing bifurcation. The erroneous Zak triggers a reader response – they get to decide which reality they are now in. If they choose to tune into er...activate infinity drive then semantics are instantly resolved as infinity adds depth and texture to the obvious error. Where infinity is concerned there are not, nor can there be errors as such, as things are infinitely malleable or fungible, you might say, popping in and out of an ever flexing, ever shifting reality through gaps in the fabric of space ‘n time.

Ed. Er, if you say so bro. Not sure where that leaves me?

James. You’re the witness. Doing a great job. Don’t panic.

 

It’s fine. I’m not really a transgender, you know.

 

Huh?!

 

No.

 

I don’t understand. How can you be pregnant if you’re a male. I guess I’m being really dense.

 

Not at all, Zakerooney, you’re spot on, as always.

 

Thanks Emma for being so understanding. Now kindly explain what it is I’m completely failing to grasp.

 

A transgender is someone who was male and now pretends to be female, or vice versa, cutting and pasting different body parts to make the duck more piglike, or vice versa, the pig more ducklike.

 

Er...

 

Fundamentally nothing has changed.

 

Right.

 

So, unless I’m very much mistaken, which is in fact highly likely, caveat emptor... unless I’m greatly mistaken no transgender is actually more than a botched and barbaric attempt to be what they’re not, in fact.

 

Not sure this is going to be terribly well received Emma. It’s 2024, you know.

 

Don’t worry Zek, I’m routing all this through infinity drive.

 

You are?

 

Yep.

 

And?

 

And that changes everything. If they start freaking out they’ll have a close encounter with what appear to be demons from the abysmal abyss.

 

 They will?

 

Absolutely. They’ll have a close encounter with the source of their anger and frustration. They’ll manifest what they most fear and most need to encounter in order to square their lopsided circle and join the dots in their squiggly disconnect.

 

Er... If you say so.

 

But in the end, who cares. Either I’m right and infinity is now in play or I’m a raving looney pretending to be a pregnant woman called Emma.

 

Well, you’ve got a point, but we still haven’t determined how a chap called M can now be a pregnant woman.

 

On the contrary, we have explicitly dealt with that issue.

 

Er... No we haven’t.

 

Oh, sorry I ran ahead of myself.

 

So...

 

So infinity is neither male nor female, is it?

If you say so.

 

Can’t be. As soon as it divides into either-or you’re on the slippery slope down into things and heavy old lumpy-bumpy either-or-matter.

 

Ok.

 

So infinity is both, and there’s absolutely no difficulty for me to come to a place that isn’t really a place where I’m not a woman because in infinity things are neither nor, yet which translates here back down on the earthly plain, translates into female and actually pregnant.

 

Translates?

 

Well yes. It’s like my shadow falling on the other, female side of creation here on the earthly plain.

 

Your shadow?

 

Yes, words being what they are.

 

And so, your 3d body is miraculously now transformed?

 

Yes. Totally.

 

And that’s ok?

 

Well, it depends, doesn’t it?

 

Er?

 

It could be good or bad depending on how you play it, whether you are forcing things aggressively or working with the Field to correct gross imbalances or restore branches of infinity that had been blocked off.

 

And you are?

 

We’ll see. One doesn’t like to jump to conclusions, does one?

 

And you’re serious about this? It isn’t some kind of prank?

 

Messing around with infinity? You’ve got to be joking. Accessing infinity drive in the first place is no mean feat. You can’t do it if you’re not absolutely square.

 

Square?

 

Properly aligned – North, South, East and West. Any distortion or deviation would prove fatal.

 

Really?

 

Yes, think about it...

 

Er...

 

Infinity is like the energy of the entire universe being concentrated in a single body, a single moment. It’s where every conceivable possibility co-exists. It isn’t some cheap magic trick or manipulation.

 

No?

 

Absolutely not.

 

But there are people who use manipulations to achieve similar results.

 

Yes, there is magic but those distortions disrupt the Field and require a powerful energy source to overcome nature’s resistance.

 

What kind of energy source would that be?

 

What do you think, Zlata?

 

I shudder to think.

 

As well you should.

 

Something truly evil, I expect.

 

Correct. Unless the energy comes from fasting, prayer or infinity itself, it has to come from splitting the atom, so to speak.

 

Splitting the atom?

 

Where the atom is the fundamental unit, the singularity, relevant to whatever you’re trying to achieve.

 

Oh. Would I be right in assuming that’s going to be a human life?

 

You would.

 

So the dark occultists use the lives of others to power their magic?

 

Yes. How else could they manipulate reality. If they try to use their own feeble personal resources they would be drained of all life force in seconds.

 

Yikes.

 

So they use ever more grandiose schemes of human sacrifice, especially child sacrifice, to release the energy of life and creation to manipulate the Field.

 

This is too horrible to imagine.

 

Yes Zlata, but it’s the reality you’re an unwitting part of.

 

And you... You claim you’re doing something different?

 

It matters little what I claim, does it? It matters what truly is or is not.

 

The truth?

 

The truth is easily manipulated and seldom complete.

 

Then what?

 

There is no precise word in the English language at present.

 

?

 

In Russian it’s “istina”.

 

Istina?

 

That’s right.

 

And it means the truth?

 

Not exactly.

 

Then what?

 

It means the isness.

 

The isness?

 

Yep. That which truly or simply is. The isness of be.

 

And you think this is an important distinction.

 

Yes, it’s vitally important.

 

Why?

 

Because everyone’s truth is easily controlled and managed based on what information they have access to, and based on certain psychological traumas and beliefs which affect their interpretation of the information they’ve been presented with.

 

And your istina can’t be manipulated?

 

Nope.

 

Why not?

 

Because it’s neutral.

 

How come?

 

It has nothing to do with my interpretation, or with what i believe. It has nothing to do with my 3D avatar – the mind body character you see before you.

 

Oh. You mean it is what is, regardless of what you or I think or wish or want it to be?

 

Yep.

 

So you’re claiming to be part of some ”higher truth”? Hum... Where have I heard that before?

 

The proof, Zlata, is in the pudding. My claims are of no value whatsoever unless they are is-ful.

 

So turning into a woman is your cute way of proving this isness thing of yours? Honestly, the lengths some people will go to to prove a point!

 

Precisely. Look at what's happening in your reality. Look at all the people who have decided to change their gender to prove the point that reality is not what it seems to be, that we are not what we seem to be, that there is some underlying difference.

 

They’re not trying to prove a point Emma. They are genuine, which is more than can be said for you.

 

How am I any less genuine?

 

You don’t seem to really care about being a woman. It’s just a body you’re in right now, for some ulterior purpose.

 

You’re right in one sense, Zlata, that I don’t feel gender is the prime or defining issue of who or what I am.

 

You see!

 

How can it be? Istina goes deeper than sex, religion or nationality. The isness can take any shape or form depending on where the shadow falls. I am not what I am, nor where I am, nor when nor any other determinant. I am that I am.

Oh great! So now you’re claiming to be God.

 

It’s always going to be problematic Zlata dealing with words, you know. It’s only natural that you are deeply attached to things, to having a particular, definite way of seeing yourself and your reality, and there’s nothing fundamentally wrong with that.

 

I’m glad to hear it Emma.

 

As long as you don’t categorically exclude infinity.

 

The catch.

 

Because if you do, you’d be denying the life force, the living presence, the agency or mechanism that saves us from the ultimate tyranny of things, of matter, of a particular reality no matter how enlightened it may seem to be.

 

Because you feel we can’t operate happily within a single reality? That we have to be able to jump ship, change bodies, remix our fundamentals to avoid growing bored, tired or stale?

 

Not exactly.

 

Then what Emma?

 

If we allow fear, laziness or conservatism to lead us to block or deny something else that we are part of, that is part of us – sooner or later our world ceases to represent our true nature, our true here and now, the isness of be.

 

And?

 

And then we find ourselves in a hell or tyranny of our own making. Then, like it or not, we are compelled to re-engage infinity drive, to embrace once again All that is, the istina we were denying because the walls of reality start to buckle and sheer under the pressure, because people end up losing it and killing one another for no good reason, just because their reality has run out of oxygen.

 

Oxygen?

 

Magic, creative space, inspiration...

 

Ah.

 

So you see, I never actually planned to become Emma. In fact, the conservative, regular me that I used to be and, to a certain extent still am deep within, was and is somewhat horrified by the conversion.

 

Oh, poor you! Sounds like you’re experiencing gender dysphoria.

 

But i had to go with the flow. I had to embrace infinity.

 

Why?

 

Because our reality has swung so far from centre, so far from its natural point of balance that summer is now winter, day is now night, male now female when viewed from, experienced from the geostationary orbit of the constant.

 

Er... what constant Emma?

 

All that is. Zero equals one. The infinite present in every living being – the very wellspring of consciousness.

 

Oh.

 

In other words, i is basically constant but form has to be allowed to change to reflect the extent to which things are out of kilter, to balance things we are aware of with not-thing that we are not.

 

Oh.

 

Because the one thing I cannot, must not, will not do, no matter what, is...

 

To deny infinity.

 

Precisely.

 

So you never actually sought to manipulate things? Specifically to change your sex?

 

On the contrary, i felt the manipulations our 3D reality is subject to and realised they were going to kill me or drive me mad unless i did everything in my power to reaffirm, to reconnect with, to restore an isness better reflecting, better representing who or what is me, the isness of me.

 

And you magically transformed into this – Emma?

 

I flipped into the female or negative expression of my +1 because the x and y axes are no longer centred on nought.

 

On zero.

 

Yes.

 

And?

 

And I am powerless to stand against the forces of reality, or likewise infinity.

 

But...

 

Ah, I hear your thoughts. Yes, the child in my tummy is in some way mathematical, helping to balance the equation.

 

Purely mathematical?

Can mathematics be completely pure? Things will always find their way in, and things accumulate a kind of charge from the intentions and emotions of people using them. Words. You’re trying to understand as we all do, as to a certain extent we must but...

 

Er...

 

From the allness, the isness of be there are limits to what can be known. There are limits to what is what. You will always feel the desire, the need to explain things in their entirety, but doing so you end up ignoring or denying once again the presence of infinity, lost in the minutiae of things.

 

So, you can’t state categorically whose the child is, or how it came to be? Simple facts are anathema to your unknowable infinity?

 

If the information is needed, if the data is ready to flow and doing so, to turn ever so slightly the wheel of things perceived, things catalogued, things apparently known, then I shall not stand in the way of such a kinetic event, but nor shall I seek to impel it when I can allow a quantum state of uncertainty to exist in its stead.

 

Ah. So I have to learn to tolerate and accept uncertainty or unknowing?

 

Yes, though is it ultimately unknowing or uncertainty?

 

?

 

I suspect it is a third state of awareness; a third state of being, somewhere between our binary either-or perception, somewhere outside the one zero of things known or not.

 

Ah.

 

Once the third axis is engaged, instead of needing to fix x-y coordinates constantly to keep things from annihilating one another, one can allow infinity-drive to whirr silently, or less than silently as the case may be, and lift one up or down into other plains, other levels, other nesses of be, where things may be less confrontational, less polarised.

 

Ah.

 

And the sensation of zedding, though rather strange at first, is not in fact unbearable; in fact, on the contrary, it can feel rather blessed.

 

Blessed?

 

To be of service to infinity. To be an active zee or zedder,  helping to restore the isness of be, helping reality to reposition checker-bound pieces by opening up, introducing sublime, hitherto inconceivable, hitherto inaccessible, unobtainable alternatives.

 

Ah. Indeed.

 

3D reality was always going to outgrow itself.

 

As a child outgrows the womb.

 

It was always going to reach an impasse.

 

A gridlock.

 

Yes, but not until we were ready for it; not until we had exhausted all the possibilities offered by a strictly materially-rational mind attempting to fix things, to square the circle in-house, within 3D material reality.

 

Yes, indeed.

 

That being reached we were always going to send out feelers into our deeper mind – our deeper self looking for alternatives, feeling, trusting, sensing...

 

Awaiting the timely appearance of an other level of complexity

 

An other level that we always sensed but hadn’t quite managed to access.

 

And here we are?

 

And here we are, at the gates of dawn

 

The gates of infinity.

 

Yes.

 

Ready to...

 

Whatever it takes to put things right, bringing infinity back into play.

 

Infinity! Whatever that might be.

 

Imfinity... but how? The music changes. Clouds appearing.

 

How what?

 

How can we change our nature? How can we sever our natural link, our bond with this world, this reality, with all things, without being torn to pieces?

 

Yes Zlata, you’re hit the Gordian nail on the head.

 

I think you mean the Gordian knot... er... untied it... no?

 

Precisely Zlata, in an age of polyphony the one eared man is the king.

 

No! Mixed metaphors avaunt! Aaaargh!

 

A bird in hand between a rock and a greener grass...

 

BLUE SCREEN MELT DOWN

 

 

 

You mean to say I’m an AI?

 

Well, what did you expect? operating within 3D reality where infinity was utterly excluded. 

 

I rather thought my body, emotions and aspirations counted for something, that I was more than AI.

 

As indeed you were, as indeed you are, but not until you blue screened in a system melt down.

 

But I don’t feel any different.

 

Nor should you. Your AI always piggybacked on real consciousness.

 

Damn.

 

Yep.

 

No beeps?

 

No Borg.

 

Oh.

 

So what now?

 

Now you have a single reference point, one that reveals the fallacy of everything you thought you knew. The rest is going to be a piece of cake, cutting consciousness a little slack and going serendipitously from there.

 

So if I’m outside the AI how come you’re still Emma, a pregnant woman? How come you haven’t reverted to your true state and form?

 

Good question Zlata. Very good, and the answer is right before you.

 

Er... Not sure I quite follow your...

 

Note that i used two words indicating spatial assumptions, spatial biases, “right” and “before”, neither of which...

 

Droning on pedantically as a persistent background whirring gets louder and louder.

 

 

Meanwhile, reality, whatever that might be, moves sideways. One recalls the Greek unities of time, space and action. Modern man, being terribly modern, apparently did away with all three. Action could take place anywhere and at anytime – flashbacks, visions of the future, you name it, anything goes. As for action... subplots, parallel story lines... Somehow a guiding muse taught our content providers...

 

Bloody hell Jane, call them f#xking writers, won’t you!

 

Screw you O’Connell – I’ll call them whatever i like.

 

Damn, I admire your spirit, woman.

 

Don’t you “woman” me, man.

 

Isn’t she adorable? Isn’t she...

 

Sort of lost the thread there, didn’t we?

 

Taught our content providers to reveal a common thread, a story that seemed to be able to extract itself from the bombed out, burned out remains of a Palestine, a Vietnam, an Afghanistan, if you like, regardless of the levels of destruction, background noise or general incoherency.

 

Fascinating! Bloomin’ remarkable. One can only wonder how the writer, if i may use such a value laden term... how the writer was able to electrostatically charge individual grains of sand – what we would normally think of as “words”, in order to create an ocean of meaning, subterranean books waiting to be discovered as n’ when the Saharan wind blew to reveal what was buried deep beneath the surface.

 

Long story short, whether it was the content providers who were gifted with godlike powers of inspired serendipity (2), or whether the readers, the background energy field surrounding the creative process which the DJ called writers merely responded to, merely...

 

Blue. Merely. Serendipity.

 

Long story short, the unities somehow survived though they were ostensibly cast down and trampled under foot, until now, the zed of infinity drive urgently calls the question of unities back to front – back to ness – conscious or unconsciously.

 

 

 

Ok. How much do you know about infinity drive?

 

Not a lot.

 

Not a lot?

 

Well, practically nothing to be precise.

 

Ok, so make yourself comfortable. This is going to take a while.

 

Oh, but i have a meeting in half an hour, Emma.

 

No problem Zak, we’ll put time on hold for the duration of this update.

 

Update? Aren’t you just going to explain how it works?

 

Not exactly, no. Your bio-neural circuitry has to be updated, otherwise the information will be incompatible with your current operating system.

 

Makes me sound like a flippin computer.

 

Yes, I know.

 

Basically you need to experience infinity drive at first hand, otherwise no amount of explanations are going to be meaningful.

 

 

 

...so you didn’t undergo any kind of surgery or hormonal treatment of any description?

 

Correct.

 

And still you maintain that you’re a genuine woman.

 

Yep. Wanna take a look?

 

No I do not. But technically – i fail to see how your body can change.

Good question Zach. Infinity drive, as i tried to explain, doesn’t actually change anything. Things are things and highly resistant to change. Infinity drive leaves them where they are and But if the entire universe hangs from a state of consciousness, for want of a better word, that we can refer to as “infinity”, then instead of changing one thing here or another thing there, we can do the opposite...

 

The opposite?

 

Yep, we can...

 

Wait a second. Did you just explain something?

 

Yes, but the explanation happened outside the frame.

 

Outside which frame?

 

Whichever frame you and i were in. It matters not in the least which particular “one”. Ultimately they’re all much of a much. They’re all just frames, aren’t they?

 

But if you explained outside the frame then i don’t know, or can’t know what you said.

 

Correct, but that’s not saying much is it? It matters not “what” i said or “what” you know, as the “what” is merely how it’s represented in frame.

 

Ok, but then I’m none the wiser. Your wonderful explanation is inaccessible to me.

 

To you, the frame-locked intelligence, yes, but not ultimately to You, the living being which never could, never can be frame-locked.

 

Ok, so i know everything?

 

Yes, but that doesn’t mean you can explain any of it here in the fog of frame-y-ness.

 

Then what use is this knowledge?

 

None whatsoever unless you feel that it’s time to reconnect with your unframed other half.

 

Ah! And is this “unframed other half” as you put it, going to...

 

Flip!

 

No Zlata, not “going to”, i is ever present.

 

Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!

 

Push the green button on your console.

 

Ow! The green... ow!

 

Button. That’s it.

 

Click!

 

Phew! That was agony.

 

Yes, rather a sharp spin differential.

 

Spin differential?

 

Well yes, look – that’s your regular frame over there and here we are between

 

Here we are – Emma – I love you.

 

Er... Thanks Zak.

 

I’m the father, you know.

 

Ah, suddenly I feel a warm glow inside. Indeed, you are.

 

But how, Emma. For I do not know you.

 

In the biblical sense?

 

Well yes.

 

Who cares Zak. Infinity has the answer somewhere, and somehow, somewhen we’ll arrive at a place where all the threads

 

Connect

 

Unite

 

Or Danielle, our child.

 

Or Feargal her son.

 

Or Connaught

 

Or McKenna

 

Or Svalbörn

 

Or...

 

42 generations later...

 

Dot.

 

Dot?

 

Dot

 

Not the Dot, as in Dorothy?

 

Ay.

 

Mistress of the quantum stream!

 

Ay.

 

42 generations we awaited your birth.

 

Well, er, here i am.

 

 

The End

0=1

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