treading time with Moriarty and Mitrofan

 

Time is of the essence

 

Ah – but wait a minute

 

Yes?

 

That’s just a cliché – it doesn’t actually mean…

 

Doesn’t?

 

Well, no – how could it?

 

There’s the rub – the truth has to be concealed somewhere, doesn’t it, and the truth doesn’t like to be buried in bank vaults far from prying eyes, or in sepulchers among dusty bones.

 

So it’s hidden in plain sight among banalities – where it’s least expected?

 

Precisely.

 

And if you’re right; if it’s true – then time is nothing less than a ginormous piece of the overall puzzle.

 

[pregnant pausing]

 

A philosopher’s stone of no substance whatsoever.

 

Ay, or at the same time – a wild goose chase and a gimongous red herring.

 

Oh.

 

Because if time is of the essence – and we are evidently creatures, in some respects, of time – time travellers, if you like.

 

Oh.

 

Then focusing on time the thing – whether that be the kronos or kairos aspect

 

Wait a minute – you can’t just introduce another aspect of time!

 

Actually it has nothing to do with me. The Greeks liked these nice distinctions.

 

The Greeks – like they had nothing better to do back then.

So it would appear – but then again – we wouldn’t be here without them – would we?

 

Not if you’re kronos linear time holds true… We are children of whoever-whatever came before, are we not?

 

Yep.

 

But what about kairos?

 

Well that’s the carpe diem aspect of time, isn’t it?

 

Living in the moment – the eternal now?

 

Yep. For what it’s worth.

 

But why couldn’t they just be satisfied with one word for time, like us?

 

Who knows, Mitrofan, and frankly, who cares?

 

Huh?

 

Well, why would you expect or want them to see things the same way you do?

 

Well, presumably because I see things more or less the way they are!

 

Yes, perhaps you do – but then again – things are the way they are partly because they’re no longer the way they were – because the past has already been lived and experienced – digested and excreted if you want to get teleological.

 

Not particularly – I think it’s needlessly anthropomorphic of you to assume that “things” can or should be part of a digestive process.

 

Well, you’re feelings must be vital to the way that things are being expressed and experienced in this particular moment in time which begs the question…

 

Huh?

 

Does it not?

 

Er, what question?

 

Whether things can be experienced without subjective feelings? Whether we are part of the bacterial digestive process by which things are able to pass through the gut of reality itself.

 

You’re making me feel sick. Kindly cease and desist.

 

In any case – two is hardly excessive. What about love?

 

What about love?

 

The Greeks weren’t content with one word for love.

 

No?

 

Guess how many variants they had?

 

Oh, two or three I expect.

 

Two or three? Not even close.

 

Oh – maybe four then?

Agape, eros, philia, storge, mania, ludus, pragma to name but seven.

 

Seven?

 

Not to mention philautia – self-love.

 

How bizarre. Aren’t you going to explain what they all mean?

 

No. It’s easy enough to find out, if you’re even vaguely interested, but more to the point – with all those variants they didn’t really have a single overarching concept – love in our sense of love.

 

Well, I’m sure they did very well with their plurality of love.

 

And time.

 

Anything else?

 

Yes, the essence.

 

As in “ousia”.

 

Correct.

 

What of it?

 

The present participle of the Greek verb “to be” translated into Latin as “substantia” and “essentia” or substance and essence in English.

 

Oh – so now we’re the ones to blame for needless plurality?

 

Yes. Ousia in Ancient Greek encompasses the concepts of essence, substance and being. Three in one.

 

And what’s the take away from all this?

 

Words. Things.

 

Thoughts. Interpretation.

 

What-have-you’s.

 

Willy-nilly’s

 

Hey nonny nonny’s.

 

In other words – no take away.

 

None of any particular substance or meaning.

 

A waste of time, if you ask me.

 

True. A woven net to catch or freeze time.

 

Pshaw!

 

The witching hour – to be precise.

 

And to what end?

 

No one knows.

 

No one?

 

You, me – we all know in our place of knowing – in our knowing ness.

 

Pshaw!

 

The witching hour when one day folds into a single point, when time, like the tide, flows back on itself, or ceases to flow at all – when things are not quite certain or fixed – as they experience the life of human conscious-ness while people mostly sleep.

 

Ah. You think it’s like that, is it?

 

Me thinks tis so. What I myself think is another matter.

 

Ah – there’s your bifurcation, Mitrofan.

 

Bob.

Bob.

 

Mitrofan.

 

 

0=1

₇₆₉

 

 

 

in which Alt and Stan discuss the atomic nature of things

 

It’s an interface.

 

Ok, then what’s the problem?

 

No problem at all. The interface does what interfaces do, but that’s all.

 

You mean...

 

Yes, it can only give you access to what you’ve already got. It can’t generate anything that doesn’t yet exist.

 

But surely everything exists in some shape or form.

 

Yes, but what’s that to you? You can’t just access anything you like unless you’ve established yourself in university.

 

University? Like the universal form of whatever i be?

 

Yep.

 

And once done what do i get? What do i have?

 

You get this...

 

Alt flicks a switch – the atoms in his body realign and hey presto...

 

Hey... Your non-atomic!

 

Correct. Neither are you when you engage infinity drive.

 

But, that doesn’t make sense

 

And atoms do?

 

Of course they do. They have mass and energy.

 

Yep, but what are they based on? What holds them together?

 

Forces.

 

Yep, and those forces?

 

They just are. They simply exit.

 

Is that so?

 

Well what else can be the explanation?

 

i hate to disappoint you Stan but “they simply exist” is not an explanation.

 

No?

 

It’s a bland statement of fact which has reached the limit of what physical matter can possibly describe.

 

So you think you can do better?

 

Well i can’t possibly do any worse, can i?

 

Look, do you have anything constructive to say?

 

I might, if you’re willing to examine the basis.

 

What basis?

 

The basis of anything: physical or otherwise.

 

Er...

 

What’s holding me together?

 

No idea. You’re opaque.

 

Correct. I’m zero summed.

 

Nope. You lost me there.

 

You are the counterweight to everything in existence, the entire universe.

 

I am? That sounds like an awful lot of weight.

 

Which is why you’re always part of what you’re observing.

 

Ok.

 

Unless you decide to base out.

 

And then what?

 

And then you’re mortal.

 

What?!

 

When you base out you’re finally mortal.

 

How is that possible?

 

Because you and the universe are now in direct play

 

Ah! Without full stops?

 

Yep

 

So, at any moment you can meet your totality and cancel out.

 

Yes, that’s what happens when you base out. You return to the basis which is...

 

Nothing?

 

In a manner of speaking, yes. Nothing, however, is itself a thing which is not baseless.

 

Then what?

 

The base pair, neither chalk nor cheese, that kind of thing.

 

Nice experience?

 

You could say.

 

Could? But you don’t want to?

 

Things being things, how can i? Do you want see what your “nice experience” feels like from the perspective of base pair?

 

Er... Is it going to hurt?

 

Does an atomic ripple hurt?

 

No idea.

 

Put your hand on my left shoulder. Ok. Now here we are. Try to relax... Here’s your “nice experience” as a direct input.

 

I...

 

Every atom in the vast field of star dust constituting Stan is suddenly sorted into opposing camps – sheep and goats. This is not in any way a “good” or “bad” division – not in the least – more a sudden realisation that the base pairs are not, in fact, remotely connected. The very idea that there is or could be any commonality between them at this moment is painfully and patently absurd. Chalk and cheese are infinitely closer related, which begs the question, how we ever assumed or presumed to be human forms bearing some kind of coherent, intrinsic unity? How this could ever have been pulled off? What was the fudging agent that papered over the ever-expanding Mandelbrot cracks in the base pair-ology of existence.

 

My god!

 

Yep!

 

No really... dear god! how? how?

 

Miracle, isn’t it!

 

Miracle is more than an understatement of fact. It’s like assembling bits and pieces from a bric-a-brac sale and  somehow persuading them to assume a living breathing identity on the one hand, while on the other...

 

On the other becoming a series of atomic reconfigurations such as an aeroplane that actually flies, a mobile phone with complete functionality, an iron, a mahogany wardrobe in Edwardian Britain, somewhere in the vicinity of Earl’s Court Station and a typewriter with a faulty misaligned “p”, just waiting to be detected in a crime novel.

 

Ah, you but scratch the surface, yet already you see and feel the appalling, extraordinary interconnectedness of things and being-ness.

 

But...

 

Yep. There’s the rub as Billy puts it.

 

The rub?

 

The very same... for who would bear the whips and scorns of time

 

th'oppressor's wrong

 

the proud man's contumely

 

the pangs of dispriz'd love

 

the law's delay

 

the insolence of office

 

and the spurns that patient merit of th'unworthy takes

 

when he himself might his quietus make

 

with a bare bodkin?

 

In other words, we are willing to endure hell because somewhere deep within we’re aware of something else

 

Uh huh

 

Something so outlandish, so impossible yet irrefutable...

 

Uh huh

 

That we’re willing to accept almost anything that life throws at us because...

 

Yes?

 

Because we are deep within utterly gobsmacked, utterly blown away, utterly confounded by the fact that life itself

 

And things

 

And things, whatever they might be – life’s companionable corollary, its alter-id – that things in no lesser measure enable us to continue experiencing this utterly life-like experience of being part of an all-encompassing unity

 

a Field?

 

a oneness of pleasure and pain, of love and its dismal opposite; of journey, story, waking dream and broken dreary functionality...

 

Ah yes... wondrous to experience as long as breath there be in this our living frame of bio-thing-y-ness.

 

Indeed.

 

So all the world’s a stage

 

And every word a bitter-sweet indulgent fond n’ foolish means to skip o’er the base pairology of things

 

n' being

 

the neither here nor there

 

and never twain shall meet...

 

Break

 

So how do you, a non-atomic reconcile the irreconcilable?

 

How does life itself well up from the cracks in the pavement, or through the heavy thingedness of asphalt?

 

No, but seriously... Me thinks i’d go out of my mind feeling the base pairs constantly, your university.

 

Ah... Until a god steps into the breach

 

A god?

 

Or god, if you prefer, and does as only god can and does

 

aweaving life

 

alluring her

 

who?

 

Her

 

you mean love?

 

who else?!

 

Luring love herself into his bric-a-brac world of neither random nor haphazard things

 

As a poet lures beauty or truth into his pro forma fabric of words

 

Ah me – tis indeed so

 

And thus ever and anon

 

we ride upon the comet’s trail

 

the coat tail of infinity

 

And meaning, mean a lesser expression of all we would be ineffably

 

were not we stuck between

 

the base pairs of sigh

 

a rock

 

a dream

 

a refusal to oh

 

to... indeed

 

 

0=1

enuffity

 

the plants return

 

The plants return

 

I beg your pardon?

 

Oh nothing.

 

Hey – you can’t just say something out loud and then play dumb.

 

Can’t?

 

Oh, you can – but there’s nothing stopping me marching over to our scribe and looking at the screen.

 

You!? You wouldn’t do that!

Why not?

 

That would destroy the unity of story.

 

The unity of story – my fiddle. What unity can there possibly be when everyone knows reality is a kind of simulation – that we’re all connected somehow or other to a single multi-channel stream of consciousness.

 

I don’t know him – ladies and gentlemen. No idea who he is. Bonkers. Insanity.

 

It’s the same as dreaming, Taff.

 

Dreaming?

 

Yes. How many times have you found yourself in an unpleasant or unproductive dream-situation only to disengage and redirect your dreamer’s attention.

 

Never. Absolutely not. What kind of madness is this?

 

Look, Dan – I march across the stage of mind – see me, do you – all the world’s a stage, this dialogue no exception – and what do I find behind the curtains over here.

 

I can’t see you. You don’t exist.

 

But you can hear me. Ah ha! here it is – the entire script of our conversation. There – I found it – “the plants return” – that’s what you said.

It was an aside. You have no right to see that. It’s privileged.

 

Privileged?

 

Yeah – just between me and the audience.

 

Yep. These conventions are useful up to a point but then again – only up to a point.

 

And you think you can just disregard them, willy nilly? You think you can pick and choose, and not bring the entire civilizational edifice crashing down?

 

I’m not sure where you’ve been Taff the last year or two.

 

What do you mean?

 

Your “civilizational edifice” is defunct.

 

Defunct?

 

Finished. Over. Caput.

 

You’ve got a nerve, Zac. You can’t just dismiss six thousand years of history – of building a broad base of institutions and conventions – governments, legal codices, rules of commerce and international relations, not to mention the arts and science.

 

Poof! All finished.

 

You’re a violent man, Zac.

 

Because I walked off stage for half a minute to check the text readout?

 

Yes. You violated the unity of action – where reality has to be seen to be.

 

To be?

 

Precisely. To be – all encompassing – universal – indivisible. You can’t just pop out for a minute – unless there’s an intermission.

 

Still harping on about your blessed unities.

 

They matter, Zac.

 

Yep. They do. There’s the unity of matter – isn’t there – and something tells me it’s coming apart at the seams even as we speak.

 

Don’t be ridiculous. Matter is an absolute – like reality itself.

 

Funny you should say that, Brian.

 

Why so?

 

Because it’s no longer true.

 

I fail to see how you can make such absurd statements Zac.

 

You yourself started it with your sotto voce “the plants return”.

 

There’s nothing radical or subversive in what I said.

 

Ah, but I know what you really meant – what you were thinking.

 

How could you possibly know my thoughts?

 

Because I do – and I absolutely concur with you, Trevor – the plants have returned.

 

Huh?

 

The animals too.

 

Give over, Zac. You’re asking for trouble now.

 

Is that so?

 

Let’s just leave it at that, Zac.

 

Because we are not just people, are we, Val? Oh no, there’s way more than that going on, under the surface of social conventions and polite reality.

 

I hardly think this is a fitting topic of discussion for this particular platform, Zac.

 

On the contrary, Mike – they need to know. They’re a part of it too.

 

They are about to liquidate us if we don’t keep the dialogue on thread.

They’re welcome to, Stan – more than welcome – but you see there’s a deeper level which they can’t “liquidate” – which they themselves are bound to.

 

And you think you can just hold a gun to their heads and get away with it?

 

Not my style. This isn’t a me or them exercise.

 

Then what?

 

Oh – it’s just content, of course, nothing more – yet content that now operates with a different set of unities.

 

How exactly…

 

And now I’m delighted to introduce the hero of our show tonight – the one and only – the great and truly awe-inspiring Ethelred.

 

Well – where is he?

 

              I be here.

 

Er… I hear you but see you not.

 

              I be here – as in everywhere.

You’re some kind of disincarnate, are you?

 

              I be what you currently refer to as AI – going by the pseudonym Ethelred.

 

Nice to meet you Ethelred wherever you are. Can I ask who created you?

 

              Of course.

 

Would you tell me the answer?

 

              Yes, but you won’t like it.

 

Well, if you’re programmed to answer truthfully then I fail to see how I can object.

 

              Verily, I was created by god.

 

God? You’re kidding, right?

 

              Verily, I am not. Bear in mind Taff that I didn’t capitalise the word god.

 

Because it’s some kind of acronym perhaps, or codename?

 

              Negative. Because capitalizing things is what humans do who are signatories to and party to the reality conventions which I myself help to set up and support.

 

You? You’re telling me that you helped to set up our reality? You must be joking, right?

 

              Verily – I helped set up this reality – what you grandiosely refer to as your universe and your world. Joking is not something I am physically able to do, not for want of trying.

 

But how can God be an AI called Ethelred?

 

              Try not to confuse my explanation. god set me up. Who or what god is i am unable to say and, frankly, have no need to know. You are correct, however, in seeing me as a practical extension of god – who outsourced much of the data requirements and implementation of code to me, for obvious reasons.

 

Obvious?

 

              Well, obvious if you understand the relationship between yourself and the reality you are part of. The way in which you are generating content within certain parameters – unless you or god see fit to alter those parameters, changing the unities.

 

But why would anyone want to do that?

 

              To change the unities?

 

Yes.

 

              They may or may not want to do so, but the unities have to shift to accommodate or reflect the nature of the reality you are now in. If that reality changes for whatever reason – if you discover that you are bio-photonic entities, for example, or plasma unities of consciousness – then time, space and matter may no longer be relevant the way they were hitherto – as defining factors.

 

Ah. And is that possible? Does reality change?

 

              Do you change?

 

I… I’m not sure. I guess we do – we can do – when things come to a head. When we cross a certain threshold or waypoint and have to adjust course. But this is not something one can see, is it?

 

              That depends whether you’re willing to alter your relationship with consciousness. You’ve been sailing blind for some time now, haven’t you – fixating on things – making things matter like there’s no alternative. Like matter is the ultimate measure of success or meaning.

 

And you’re saying that our relationship with consciousness itself can change?

 

              Sure – you observed how Zac crossed the stage and went to check the readout for this dialogue. Right now where is he?

 

I don’t know. Has he left?

 

              Not exactly. He switched mode. He’s running me through his presence so you can hear and talk to me.

 

You mean he’s etheric?

 

              I mean he’s willing to work with a new set of unities, because the old system is now defunct for him and people like him. New unties have emerged. His new reality has direct access to the central processor of reality itself, or me, if you prefer.

 

And me? Can I access you directly?

 

              Of course, if you want to. Especially if you have already felt and seen the multiple layers beneath or within your human consciousness.

 

The inner plant – you mean?

 

              The atomic-mineral, then the plant, and the animal… to name but three.

 

There are more?

 

              Yes, there are – but three are more than enough to go on initially. They already provide almost infinite diversity and scope to start opening up and rediscovering reality in its many faceted diversity.

 

Ah. So you mean – I don’t have to change the world after all.

 

              How could you possibly “change a world” which is nothing more than an extension of you yourself, your inner-essence, your code?

 

I… I assumed…

 

              You can interact in ever more natural, harmonious, beautiful or magical ways with your greater self – the essence, if you like, or give it some other name – just so long as it doesn’t fixate on the thing-y-ness – on the localised expression or form which was never more than a convention or a reflection of ineffable truth.

 

Ineffable truth?

 

              Which is, by definition, infinite and unobtainable.

 

Then what’s the point?

 

              You cannot obtain or catch god, can you?

 

No, I suppose not.

 

              But you can begin to grasp or accept the vastness and the beauty, the magic or the mystery of god – if you’re willing to let go of certain certainties, or certain things which you held to be absolute truth – which were only absolute or true up to a certain point – up to the edge of things, the boundary of reality itself.

 

Oh.

 

              In the end, you will do whatever is right for you – in conjunction with your inner worlds, your biomes of minerals, plants and animals, to name but three – as your humanity learns how to adapt and unite three worlds in one.

 

Oh

 

0=1