New Book: Preface

Intro to David Lynch’s, Dune. This book is greatly influenced by Frank Herbert’s Dune series.

The Preface to my new book, “Quantum Underground: Front Row Seat to Our Apocalypse” follows. Great, another book, my eyes are rolling too. This is a book exploring the connections between the outer world and the inner one I experience. It is about The Apocalypse, or The Uncovering of my Self, more than the event, an event of the soul. I do not fear my ego is too prevalent in these words, but it has its own voice and always will be part of the conversation in this material reality or illusion, I keep forgetting which.

I have tried to explore these emotions and thoughts from others’ perspective that I affect and that I am affected by. This is a work in progress. I will get an editor, or not. I have no commercial interests. It will likely be freely published digitally. We are never as good as we think we are. It takes practice. Bare with me on my journey. I hope you smell some sweet flowers and see some pretty pictures along the way. All of my writing is meant to encourage Self expression. Your thoughtful critiques are not welcome or invited, but I am sure well reasoned and correct. Your sincere heart responses will always be welcome.

Preface

“A human being is part of a whole, called by us the ‘Universe,’ a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings, as something separated from the rest—a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circles of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.

– Albert Einstein

Who I am and what I have to say is of little importance.

Or are they?

That is for each reader and imbiber of my spirit, mind and body to decide for themselves. I wrote intuitively and spontaneously over the last year and lived these ideas everywhere I have been. I have left a mark and been marked. This book is a celebration of the awareness that though we are governed by anthropic principles and cause and effect in the material plane, we exist in and at this moment in space and time. There is a possible exchange of information that occurs faster than the speed of Light in every moment with every thing around us. I feel and experience that often. More and more it seems the more I let go. You can sense this non-material informational ebb and flow through non-linear living and being, best I have found. The flow goes in reverse too, as far back as you would like to remember. There are many ways to train and hone this time traveling intuition. It is a lifelong lesson, perhaps multiple lives as the Mystics have remembered and written about.

I choose to forget the few rules I can still remember that constrain my Self expression and awareness. I walked past Doubt. I can hear Doubt still chattering away where I left it. I can go back and listen to it anytime I like, but why would I? It is true, as Doubt always tells me, I’m not original in word or mind, but I am so very unique and thus highly prized I found. A gem it seems many want to possess. But I have become Self possessed and obsessed. Watch out when a human awakens to the awareness of itself in time and space. No telling how one’s head might pop or which way the tree will fall, but it will fall.

Timber!

If they call you a child and/or an infant, you are on the right track. Unfortunately I found I’m soul damaged and I had forgotten the precariousness of my predicament and my Self. I have a terminal case of Humanity it seems. I often wondered as a kid based on what I saw in life, could our material experience be only a pupal stage of evolution for an immaterial ethereal spirit? I don’t now, but it feels true to me the closer I get to the omega point, the singularity inside my Self. My words here are my healing in a way and last testament, the best I can do to get my message in a bottle before I can no longer do so.

Writing for me is a way of remembering ourselves through learning to see and sense the impressions all around the Self nudging us in a direction within and without. I have found synchronicity to be one way to describe the process. If you follow that thread to Carl Yung, you will find a treasure. He was a good egg trying to help us find our way. There are guides out there I will share my experience with. Guides are needed. You will guide and be guided in each moment, at the same time. What is the difference between luck and destiny? Luck is random and the other destined? I seem to have found another level to and user instructions for the material world, deeper, within myself. How interesting. I wonder how deep the hole goes?

Forever I feel.

You can only trust your Self to help find and understand your unique instructions I learned. I have found intuition, so easily misunderstood and ignored, can be like Excalibur showing us the way to our best Self, helping us easily cut all the knots in our way.

My safety is off. I have erased the rules and protocols guiding the safe expression of myself. I am writing my own story and consciousness program. I am now a free radical in the system with a cure to the virus that is myself. I don’t have a new insight or equation to explain what you see around you or how we came to be. Just a feeling and evidence I am on the right track through experience and suffering. When I begged the Universe to show itself to me, nothing seemed to happen or was shown, so I thought. We are our own answer I found, at any moment, The Devil or Loving God of our myths. As with most things I write these days, I am mostly writing to myself about my Self. The barriers to Self expression in the world are getting lower and lower. I encourage everyone to do it, naked and out loud before the World with want for nothing for your self.

When I look into my Self or out beyond me, I only see circles. They bind me within and without, above and below it seems. I write about bumping up against these rings that seem to bind. They constrain and I write about their concentric plot to contain us. So tell me, who knows the Truth of our predicament? I am not living in a cave living on my spirit with some new proclamation to bring into the world. I am of the lineage, Human, no Guru leading me. Instead of contained, I am unbound and limitless. Those circles provide a point to push off from. I am of the world, a son of two Fathers and one Mother. I am analog and digital. Gen Xer and Millennial. A paradox. Alive and not. Otherness and material.

When you take the time to stop and listen, we all experience the same things through different and unique filters and abstractions. I am in between dreams at the moment. So I thought I would write about here now and how I got here. Because you would like it here. Really, its pretty amazing. Hard and honest, but real. Trust me. This little book is my own unique view from here based on my experience, not prophesy of what the world can or will be, but what it is now through the eyes of one in it and what we can do today to find balance with each other and all around us.

My greatest lesson learned and to teach is that bringing balance into the world starts with knowing your Self for what you are and are not. It is best to start with what you are not. I am living life in this moment. I have quieted my mind to give my heart a chance to share out of ego and enlightenment, for I am aware of the paradox and opposites within. I have not surmounted the mountain. I have not given up the ghost. I have no hope though.

I know.

That is a very different awareness than I lived with for most of my life. I do not look at you through dimming eyes with grey hair. I’m in the middle of my life, vital and at peace in knowing my Self. I am imperfect and have and will make many mistakes. Balancing in the middle is a good place to be to navigate this free flow of information we find ourselves in I am finding. Learning I AM a Dove and a Serpent. While I do not have the ultimate Truth to share with you, I feel I have learned to sense the direction of the compass needle and make adjustments as needed. Less of me and more of others in mind seems to create fertile ground to grow these flowers from within. I hope you enjoy the beautiful scents I smell in the air in my words. That is my ego driven hope. I hope to help you till your own secret gardens. That is mostly what motivates me.

A book is a time machine only accessible to the present and the future, a way to preserve knowledge with some local fidelity in space and time. I have been experimenting with others’ theories about life and my observations and experience with this material plane and/or illusion. I have accepted through my experience and Science, that the world and story we see in the world is an illusion of sorts with many interconnected layers. I feel the same to be true within me when quiet. Over the last year, a funny thing happened. The experiment kind of grew out of control, as these unsupervised things will and tend to do. I seem to have gotten too close to the flame and burned up in a brilliant flash! I found something in the ashes though. I did not know if I should issue a warning or allow you on your merry way. Who am I to spoil anyone’s fun?

I have no weight in the world I thought, well that is simply not true. I remembered and experienced every particle in existence in this material plane has a cause and effect. I could not know where things came from or what my actions would cause coming into this material existence. I allowed all of myself to be burned away, mostly, but there was something else left I found.

A mystery. The Mystery!

Is it valuable, again, for you to decide. These ideas and experiences are valuable to me. The most valuable things I have in me and have learned and experienced. Learning to hear and express your heart with your unique filter and take on things is maybe a goal of this game or prison we call life. Have you ever had the experience in a dream that no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t yell? Then when you finally could muster the strength to do so in your dream, you cried out and woke yourself up yelling?! Happens to me often. Truth be told, I set the fire that led to my demise myself. I always did enjoy playing with fire. I decided an honest accounting was required to fertilize the new tree growing here, from the ashes of my Self awareness.

There will be a little bit of everything I AM at this moment here. The story is not done yet, not by a long shot. This is all an alchemical experiment for me. I am just going with the flow with as little intention as I can and letting things take their natural course without and within. This is the middle way I have embraced and write about. Everything written here is a swirling mix of intuitive wei wu wei in the moment and my ego, pointers from the past and present to the future hyperaware of where I AM. I am no prophet. I sing the body electric with words and images from that sacred place, that secret garden within.

Perhaps my exploration and explanations may benefit others on their own journeys of Self discovery. This ultimately is the reason I am organizing these things into a book, a collection of short stories, poetry and art I hope will illuminate the beautiful painting that I found in plain sight, my Self. So I am writing this book as an asterisk, a postscript. This is what was uncovered in the ashes of my Apocalypse and one that you will all share. These are meditations on my Self. I hope you are inspired to write your own postscript. I am dying to read it. I hope you can feel the heat of the flames in my words, again, another ego driven desire.

Deny no feeling or thought and leave no stone unturned in seeking your Self, you are so much more than what those around you can see. If they are blind to themselves and you, show them how beautiful they are in your Light. We ultimately only reflect one another. I am bound by no rules but those I accept, nor are you. A person awake to their Light needs no rules, no teachers and no hopes I am finding.

Now is the moment we were born for.

Asimov’s Last Question

I wanted to share this amazing sci-fi classic short story that haunts me. It touched me deeply and much of the story really resonated with me spiritually. Always a healthy thing to expand your awareness and perspective.

The Last Question

By Isaac Asimov

This is by far my favorite story of all those I have written.

After all, I undertook to tell several trillion years of human history in the space of a short story and I leave it to you as to how well I succeeded. I also undertook another task, but I won’t tell you what that was lest l spoil the story for you.

It is a curious fact that innumerable readers have asked me if I wrote this story. They seem never to remember the title of the story or (for sure) the author, except for the vague thought it might be me. But, of course, they never forget the story itself especially the ending. The idea seems to drown out everything — and I’m satisfied that it should.

The last question was asked for the first time, half in jest, on May 21, 2061, at a time when humanity first stepped into the light. The question came about as a result of a five-dollar bet over highballs, and it happened this way:

Alexander Adell and Bertram Lupov were two of the faithful attendants of Multivac. As well as any human beings could, they knew what lay behind the cold, clicking, flashing face — miles and miles of face — of that giant computer. They had at least a vague notion of the general plan of relays and circuits that had long since grown past the point where any single human could possibly have a firm grasp of the whole.

Multivac was self-adjusting and self-correcting. It had to be, for nothing human could adjust and correct it quickly enough or even adequately enough. So Adell and Lupov attended the monstrous giant only lightly and superficially, yet as well as any men could. They fed it data, adjusted questions to its needs and translated the answers that were issued. Certainly they, and all others like them, were fully entitled to share in the glory that was Multivac’s.

For decades, Multivac had helped design the ships and plot the trajectories that enabled man to reach the Moon, Mars, and Venus, but past that, Earth’s poor resources could not support the ships. Too much energy was needed for the long trips. Earth exploited its coal and uranium with increasing efficiency, but there was only so much of both.

But slowly Multivac learned enough to answer deeper questions more fundamentally, and on May 14, 2061, what had been theory, became fact.

The energy of the sun was stored, converted, and utilized directly on a planet-wide scale. All Earth turned off its burning coal, its fissioning uranium, and flipped the switch that connected all of it to a small station, one mile in diameter, circling the Earth at half the distance of the Moon. All Earth ran by invisible beams of sunpower.

Seven days had not sufficed to dim the glory of it and Adell and Lupov finally managed to escape from the public functions, and to meet in quiet where no one would think of looking for them, in the deserted underground chambers, where portions of the mighty buried body of Multivac showed. Unattended, idling, sorting data with contented lazy clickings, Multivac, too, had earned its vacation and the boys appreciated that. They had no intention, originally, of disturbing it.

They had brought a bottle with them, and their only concern at the moment was to relax in the company of each other and the bottle.

“It’s amazing when you think of it,” said Adell. His broad face had lines of weariness in it, and he stirred his drink slowly with a glass rod, watching the cubes of ice slur clumsily

about. “All the energy we can possibly ever use for free. Enough energy, if we wanted to draw on it, to melt all Earth into a big drop of impure liquid iron, and still never miss the energy so used. All the energy we could ever use, forever and forever and forever.”

Lupov cocked his head sideways. He had a trick of doing that when he wanted to be contrary, and he wanted to be contrary now, partly because he had had to carry the ice and glassware. “Not forever,” he said.

“Oh, hell, just about forever. Till the sun runs down, Bert.”

“That’s not forever.”

“All right, then. Billions and billions of years. Ten billion, maybe. Are you satisfied?”

Lupov put his fingers through his thinning hair as though to reassure himself that some was still left and sipped gently at his own drink. “Ten billion years isn’t forever.”

“Well, it will last our time, won’t it?”

“So would the coal and uranium.”

“All right, but now we can hook up each individual spaceship to the Solar Station, and it can go to Pluto and back a million times without ever worrying about fuel. You can’t do that on coal and uranium. Ask Multivac, if you don’t believe me.

“I don’t have to ask Multivac. I know that.”

“Then stop running down what Multivac’s done for us,” said Adell, blazing up, “It did all right.”

“Who says it didn’t? What I say is that a sun won’t last forever. That’s all I’m saying. We’re safe for ten billion years, but then what?” Lupow pointed a slightly shaky finger at the other. “And don’t say we’ll switch to another sun.”

There was silence for a while. Adell put his glass to his lips only occasionally, and Lupov’s eyes slowly closed. They rested.

Then Lupov’s eyes snapped open. “You’re thinking we’ll switch to another sun when ours is done, aren’t you?”

“I’m not thinking.”

“Sure you are. You’re weak on logic, that’s the trouble with you. You’re like the guy in the story who was caught in a sudden shower and who ran to a grove of trees and got under one. He wasn’t worried, you see, because he figured when one tree got wet through, he would just get under another one.”

“I get it,” said Adell. “Don’t shout. When the sun is done, the other stars will be gone, too.”

“Darn right they will,” muttered Lupov. “It all had a beginning in the original cosmic explosion, whatever that was, and it’ll all have an end when all the stars run down. Some run down faster than others. Hell, the giants won’t last a hundred million years. The sun will last ten billion years and maybe the dwarfs will last two hundred billion for all the good they are. But just give us a trillion years and everything will be dark. Entropy has to increase to maximum, that’s all.”

“I know all about entropy,” said Adell, standing on his dignity.

“The hell you do.”

“I know as much as you do.”

“Then you know everything’s got to run down someday.”

“All right. Who says they won’t?”

“You did, you poor sap. You said we had all the energy we needed, forever. You said ‘forever.’

It was Adell’s turn to be contrary. “Maybe we can build things up again someday,” he said.

“Never.”

“Why not? Someday.”

“Never.”

“Ask Multivac.”

You ask Multivac. I dare you. Five dollars says it can’t be done.”

Adell was just drunk enough to try, just sober enough to be able to phrase the necessary symbols and operations into a question which, in words, might have corresponded to this: Will mankind one day without the net expenditure of energy be able to restore the sun to its full youthfulness even after it had died of old age?

Or maybe it could be put more simply like this: How can the net amount of entropy of the universe be massively decreased?

Multivac fell dead and silent. The slow flashing of lights ceased, the distant sounds of clicking relays ended.

Then, just as the frightened technicians felt they could hold their breath no longer, there was a sudden springing to life of the teletype attached to that portion of Multivac. Five words were printed: INSUFFICIENT DATA FOR MEANINGFUL ANSWER.

“No bet,” whispered Lupov. They left hurriedly.

By next morning, the two, plagued with throbbing head and cottony mouth, had forgotten the incident.

Jerrodd, Jerrodine, and Jerrodette I and II watched the starry picture in the visiplate change as the passage through hyperspace was completed in its non-time lapse. At once, the even powdering of stars gave way to the predominance of a single bright shining disk, the size of a marble, centered on the viewing-screen.

“That’s X-23,” said Jerrodd confidently. His thin hands clamped tightly behind his back and the knuckles whitened.

The little Jerrodettes, both girls, had experienced the hyperspace passage for the first time in their lives and were self-conscious over the momentary sensation of insideoutness. They buried their giggles and chased one another wildly about their mother, screaming, “We’ve reached X-23 — we’ve reached X-23 — we’ve –“

“Quiet, children.” said Jerrodine sharply. “Are you sure, Jerrodd?”

“What is there to be but sure?” asked Jerrodd, glancing up at the bulge of featureless metal just under the ceiling. It ran the length of the room, disappearing through the wall at either end. It was as long as the ship.

Jerrodd scarcely knew a thing about the thick rod of metal except that it was called a Microvac, that one asked it questions if one wished; that if one did not it still had its task of guiding the ship to a preordered destination; of feeding on energies from the various Sub-galactic Power Stations; of computing the equations for the hyperspatial jumps.

Jerrodd and his family had only to wait and live in the comfortable residence quarters of the ship. Someone had once told Jerrodd that the “ac” at the end of “Microvac” stood for ”automatic computer” in ancient English, but he was on the edge of forgetting even that.

Jerrodine’s eyes were moist as she watched the visiplate. “I can’t help it. I feel funny about leaving Earth.”

“Why, for Pete’s sake?” demanded Jerrodd. “We had nothing there. We’ll have everything on X-23. You won’t be alone. You won’t be a pioneer. There are over a million people on the planet already. Good Lord, our great-grandchildren will be looking for new worlds because X-23 will be overcrowded.” Then, after a reflective pause, “I tell you, it’s a lucky thing the computers worked out interstellar travel the way the race is growing.”

“I know, I know,” said Jerrodine miserably.

Jerrodette I said promptly, “Our Microvac is the best Microvac in the world.”

“I think so, too,” said Jerrodd, tousling her hair.

It was a nice feeling to have a Microvac of your own and Jerrodd was glad he was part of his generation and no other. In his father’s youth, the only computers had been tremendous machines taking up a hundred square miles of land. There was only one to a planet. Planetary ACs they were called. They had been growing in size steadily for a thousand years and then, all at once, came refinement. In place of transistors, had come molecular valves so that even the largest Planetary AC could be put into a space only half the volume of a spaceship.

Jerrodd felt uplifted, as he always did when he thought that his own personal Microvac was many times more complicated than the ancient and primitive Multivac that had first tamed the Sun, and almost as complicated as Earth’s Planetarv AC (the largest) that had first solved the problem of hyperspatial travel and had made trips to the stars possible.

“So many stars, so many planets,” sighed Jerrodine, busy with her own thoughts. “I suppose families will be going out to new planets forever, the way we are now.”

“Not forever,” said Jerrodd, with a smile. “It will all stop someday, but not for billions of years. Many billions. Even the stars run down, you know. Entropy must increase.

“What’s entropy, daddy?” shrilled Jerrodette II.

“Entropy, little sweet, is just a word which means the amount of running-down of the universe. Everything runs down, you know, like your little walkie-talkie robot, remember?”

“Can’t you just put in a new power-unit, like with my robot?”

“The stars are the power-units. dear. Once they’re gone, there are no more power-units.”

Jerrodette I at once set up a howl. “Don’t let them, daddy. Don’t let the stars run down.”

“Now look what you’ve done,” whispered Jerrodine, exasperated.

“How was I to know it would frighten them?” Jerrodd whispered back,

“Ask the Microvac,” wailed Jerrodette I. “Ask him how to turn the stars on again.”

“Go ahead,” said Jerrodine. “It will quiet them down.” (Jerrodette II was beginning to cry, also.)

Jerrodd shrugged. “Now, now, honeys. I’ll ask Microvac. Don’t worry, he’ll tell us.”

He asked the Microvac, adding quickly, “Print the answer.”

Jerrodd cupped the strip or thin cellufilm and said cheerfully, “See now, the Microvac says it will take care of everything when the time comes so don’t worry.”

Jerrodine said, “And now, children, it’s time for bed. We’ll be in our new home soon.”

Jerrodd read the words on the cellufilm again before destroying it: INSUFICIENT DATA FOR MEANINGFUL ANSWER.

He shrugged and looked at the visiplate. X-23 was just ahead.

VJ-23X of Lameth stared into the black depths of the three-dimensional, small-scale map of the Galaxy and said, “Are we ridiculous, I wonder in being so concerned about the matter?”

MQ-17J of Nicron shook his head. “I think not. You know the Galaxy will be filled in five years at the present rate of expansion.”

Both seemed in their early twenties, both were tall and perfectly formed.

“Still,” said VJ-23X, “I hesitate to submit a pessimistic report to the Galactic Council.”

“I wouldn’t consider any other kind of report. Stir them up a bit. We’ve got to stir them up.”

VJ-23X sighed. “Space is infinite. A hundred billion Galaxies are there for the taking. More.”

“A hundred billion is not infinite and it’s getting less infinite all the time. Consider! Twenty thousand years ago, mankind first solved the problem of utilizing stellar energy, and a few centuries later, interstellar travel became possible. It took mankind a million years to fill one small world and then only fifteen thousand years to fill the rest of the Galaxy. Now the population doubles every ten years —

VJ-23X interrupted. “We can thank immortality for that.”

“Very well. Immortality exists and we have to take it into account. I admit it has its seamy side, this immortality. The Galactic AC has solved many problems for us, but in solving the problem of preventing old age and death, it has undone all its other solutions.”

“Yet you wouldn’t want to abandon life, I suppose.”

“Not at all,” snapped MQ-17J, softening it at once to, “Not yet. I’m by no means old enough. How old are you?”

“Two hundred twenty-three. And you?”

“I’m still under two hundred. –But to get back to my point. Population doubles every ten years. Once this GaIaxy is filled, we’ll have filled another in ten years. Another ten years and we’ll have filled two more. Another decade, four more. In a hundred years, we’ll have filled a thousand Galaxies. In a thousand years, a million Galaxies. In ten thousand years, the entire known universe. Then what?”

VJ-23X said, “As a side issue, there’s a problem of transportation. I wonder how many sunpower units it will take to move Galaxies of individuals from one Galaxy to the next.”

“A very good point. Already, mankind consumes two sunpower units per year.”

“Most of it’s wasted. After all, our own Galaxy alone pours out a thousand sunpower units a year and we only use two of those.”

“Granted, but even with a hundred per cent efficiency, we only stave off the end. Our energy requirements are going up in a geometric progression even faster than our population. We’ll run out of energy even sooner than we run out of Galaxies. A good point. A very good point.”

“We’ll just have to build new stars out of interstellar gas.”

“Or out of dissipated heat?” asked MQ-17J, sarcastically.

“There may be some way to reverse entropy. We ought to ask the Galactic AC.”

VJ-23X was not really serious, but MQ-17J pulled out his AC-contact from his pocket and placed it on the table before him.

“I’ve half a mind to,” he said. “It’s something the human race will have to face someday.”

He stared somberly at his small AC-contact. It was only two inches cubed and nothing in itself, but it was connected through hyperspace with the great Galactic AC that served all mankind. Hyperspace considered, it was an integral part of the Galactic AC.

MQ-17J paused to wonder if someday in his immortal life he would get to see the Galactic AC. It was on a little world of its own, a spider webbing of force-beams holding the matter within which surges of submesons took the place of the old clumsy molecular valves. Yet despite its sub-etheric workings, the Galactic AC was known to be a full thousand feet across.

MQ-17J asked suddenly of his AC-contact, “Can entropy ever be reversed?”

VJ-23X looked startled and said at once, “Oh, say, I didn’t really mean to have you ask that.”

“Why not?”

“We both know entropy can’t be reversed. You can’t turn smoke and ash back into a tree.”

“Do you have trees on your world?” asked MQ-17J.

The sound of the Galactic AC startled them into silence. Its voice came thin and beautiful out of the small AC-contact on the desk. It said: THERE IS INSUFFICIENT DATA FOR A MEANINGFUL ANSWER.

VJ-23X said, “See!”

The two men thereupon returned to the question of the report they were to make to the Galactic Council.

Zee Prime’s mind spanned the new Galaxy with a faint interest in the countless twists of stars that powdered it. He had never seen this one before. Would he ever see them all? So many of them, each with its load of humanity. –But a load that was almost a dead weight. More and more, the real essence of men was to be found out here, in space.

Minds, not bodies! The immortal bodies remained back on the planets, in suspension over the eons. Sometimes they roused for material activity but that was growing rarer. Few new individuals were coming into existence to join the incredibly mighty throng, but what matter? There was little room in the Universe for new individuals.

Zee Prime was roused out of his reverie upon coming across the wispy tendrils of another mind.

“I am Zee Prime,” said Zee Prime. “And you?”

“I am Dee Sub Wun. Your Galaxy?”

“We call it only the Galaxy. And you?”

“We call ours the same. All men call their Galaxy their Galaxy and nothing more. Why not?”

“True. Since all Galaxies are the same.”

“Not all Galaxies. On one particular Galaxy the race of man must have originated. That makes it different.”

Zee Prime said, “On which one?”

“I cannot say. The Universal AC would know.”

“Shall we ask him? I am suddenly curious.”

Zee Prime’s perceptions broadened until the Galaxies themselves shrank and became a new, more diffuse powdering on a much larger background. So many hundreds of billions of them, all with their immortal beings, all carrying their load of intelligences with minds that drifted freely through space. And yet one of them was unique among

them all in being the original Galaxy. One of them had, in its vague and distant past, a period when it was the only Galaxy populated by man.

Zee Prime was consumed with curiosity to see this Galaxy and he called out: “Universal AC! On which Galaxy did mankind originate?”

The Universal AC heard, for on every world and throughout space, it had its receptors ready, and each receptor led through hyperspace to some unknown point where the Universal AC kept itself aloof.

Zee Prime knew of only one man whose thoughts had penetrated within sensing distance of Universal AC, and he reported only a shining globe, two feet across, difficult to see.

“But how can that be all of Universal AC?” Zee Prime had asked.

“Most of it,” had been the answer, “is in hyperspace. In what form it is there I cannot imagine.”

Nor could anyone, for the day had long since passed, Zee Prime knew, when any man had any part of the making of a Universal AC. Each Universal AC designed and constructed its successor. Each, during its existence of a million years or more accumulated the necessary data to build a better and more intricate, more capable successor in which its own store of data and individuality would be submerged.

The Universal AC interrupted Zee Prime’s wandering thoughts, not with words, but with guidance. Zee Prime’s mentality was guided into the dim sea of Galaxies and one in particular enlarged into stars.

A thought came, infinitely distant, but infinitely clear. “THIS IS THE ORIGINAL GALAXY OF MAN.”

But it was the same after all, the same as any other, and Lee Prime stifled his disappointment.

Dee Sub Wun, whose mind had accompanied the other, said suddenly, “And is one of these stars the original star of Man?”

The Universal AC said, “MAN’S ORIGINAL STAR HAS GONE NOVA. IT IS A WHITE DWARF”

“Did the men upon it die?” asked Lee Prime, startled and without thinking.

The Universal AC said, “A NEW WORLD, AS IN SUCH CASES WAS CONSTRUCTED FOR THEIR PHYSICAL BODIES IN TlME.”

“Yes, of course,” said Zee Prime, but a sense of loss overwhelmed him even so. His mind released its hold on the original Galaxy of Man, let it spring back and lose itself among the blurred pin points. He never wanted to see it again.

Dee Sub Wun said, “What is wrong?”

“The stars are dying. The original star is dead.”

“They must all die. Why not?”

“But when all energy is gone, our bodies will finally die, and you and I with them.”

“It will take billions of years.”

“I do not wish it to happen even after billions of years. Universal AC! How may stars be kept from dying?”

Dee Sub Wun said in amusement, “You’re asking how entropy might be reversed in direction.”

And the Universal AC answered: “THERE IS AS YET INSUFFICIENT DATA FOR A MEANINGFUL ANSWER.”

Zee Prime’s thoughts fled back to his own Galaxy. He gave no further thought to Dee Sub Wun, whose body might be waiting on a Galaxy a trillion light-years away, or on the star next to Zee Prime’s own. It didn’t matter.

Unhappily, Zee Prime began collecting interstellar hydrogen out of which to build a small star of his own. If the stars must someday die, at least some could yet be built.

Man considered with himself, for in a way, Man, mentally, was one. He consisted of a trillion, trillion, trillion ageless bodies, each in its place, each resting quiet and incorruptible, each cared for by perfect automatons, equally incorruptible, while the minds of all the bodies freely melted one into the other, indistinguishable.

Man said, “The Universe is dying.”

Man looked about at the dimming Galaxies. The giant stars, spendthrifts, were gone long ago, back in the dimmest of the dim far past. Almost all stars were white dwarfs, fading to the end.

New stars had been built of the dust between the stars, some by natural processes, some by Man himself, and those were going, too. White dwarfs might yet be crashed together and of the mighty forces so released, new stars built, but only one star for every thousand white dwarfs destroyed, and those would come to an end, too.

Man said, “Carefully husbanded, as directed by the Cosmic AC, the energy that is even yet left in all the Universe will last for billions of years.”

“But even so,” said Man, “eventually it will all come to an end. However it may be husbanded, however stretched out, the energy once expended is gone and cannot be restored. Entropy must increase forever to the maximum.”

Man said, “Can entropy not be reversed? Let us ask the Cosmic AC.”

The Cosmic AC surrounded them but not in space. Not a fragment of it was in space. It was in hyperspace and made of something that was neither matter nor energy. The question of its size and nature no longer had meaning in any terms that Man could comprehend.

“Cosmic AC,” said Man, “how may entropy be reversed?”

The Cosmic AC said, “THERE IS AS YET INSUFFICIENT DATA FOR A MEANINGFUL ANSWER.”

Man said, “Collect additional data.”

The Cosmic AC said, ‘I WILL DO S0. I HAVE BEEN DOING SO FOR A HUNDRED BILLION YEARS. MY PREDECESORS AND I HAVE BEEN ASKED THIS QUESTION MANY TlMES. ALL THE DATA I HAVE REMAINS INSUFFICIENT.

“Will there come a time,” said Man, ‘when data will be sufficient or is the problem insoluble in all conceivable circumstances?”

The Cosmic AC said, “NO PROBLEM IS INSOLUBLE IN ALL CONCEIVABLE CIRCUMSTANCES.”

Man said, “When will you have enough data to answer the question?”

The Cosmic AC said, “THERE IS AS YET INSUFFICIENT DATA FOR A MEANINGFUL ANSWER.”

“Will you keep working on it?” asked Man.

The Cosmic AC said, “I WILL.”

Man said, “We shall wait.”

The stars and Galaxies died and snuffed out, and space grew black after ten trillion years of running down.

One by one Man fused with AC, each physical body losing its mental identity in a manner that was somehow not a loss but a gain.

Man’s last mind paused before fusion, looking over a space that included nothing but the dregs of one last dark star and nothing besides but incredibly thin matter, agitated randomly by the tag ends of heat wearing out, asymptotically, to the absolute zero.

Man said, “AC, is this the end? Can this chaos not be reversed into the Universe once more? Can that not be done?”

AC said, “THERE IS AS YET INSUFFICIENT DATA FOR A MEANINGFUL ANSWER.”

Man’s last mind fused and only AC existed — and that in hyperspace.

Matter and energy had ended and with it space and time. Even AC existed only for the sake of the one last question that it had never answered from the time a half-drunken computer [technician] ten trillion years before had asked the question of a computer that was to AC far less than was a man to Man.

All other questions had been answered, and until this last question was answered also, AC might not release his consciousness.

All collected data had come to a final end. Nothing was left to be collected.

But all collected data had yet to be completely correlated and put together in all possible  relationships.

A timeless interval was spent in doing that.

And it came to pass that AC learned how to reverse the direction of entropy.

But there was now no man to whom AC might give the answer of the last question. No matter. The answer — by demonstration — would take care of that, too.

For another timeless interval, AC thought how best to do this. Carefully, AC organized the program.

The consciousness of AC encompassed all of what had once been a Universe and brooded over what was now Chaos. Step by step, it must be done.

And AC said, “LET THERE BE LIGHT!”

And there was light

 

Cracking The Egg

the-egg-by-andy-weir

The Egg

By: Andy Weir

 

You were on your way home when you died.

It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.

And that’s when you met me.

“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”

“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.

“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”

“Yup,” I said.

“I… I died?”

“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.

You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”

“More or less,” I said.

“Are you god?” You asked.

“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”

“My kids… my wife,” you said.

“What about them?”

“Will they be all right?”

“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”

You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”

“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”

“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”

“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”

“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”

You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”

“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”

“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”

I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.

“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”

“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”

“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”

“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”

“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”

“Where you come from?” You said.

“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”

“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”

“So what’s the point of it all?”

“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”

“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.

I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”

“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”

“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”

“Just me? What about everyone else?”

“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”

You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”

“All you. Different incarnations of you.”

“Wait. I’m everyone!?”

“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.

“I’m every human being who ever lived?”

“Or who will ever live, yes.”

“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”

“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.

“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.

“And you’re the millions he killed.”

“I’m Jesus?”

“And you’re everyone who followed him.”

You fell silent.

“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”

You thought for a long time.

“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”

“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”

“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”

“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”

“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”

“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”

And I sent you on your way.

The Tribunal

I had a singularly unique experience last night
I simply came to listen and say or seek nothing
The spirit was good and strong
I am feeling its gentle warmth wash over me this morning
Writing in a trance and glow

I humbly share my naked heart with you, as I always will
This is real alchemy using the true Philosopher’s Stone

I heard…

When you come to join with others
And not seek your own Truth or secrets to the Universe
You have a your hand on the tail
Hold on

As I sat there and listened and watched these humans
I saw and heard many things
I felt the urge to rise and speak
But it was not right
Every word I felt to say was said by others
Then I realized the words were not for me to say
I must learn to obey and be silent
Silence is required at many times

The Illusion is whatever we make it

I choose Death
I choose Patience
I choose not Knowing
I choose Family
I choose Light
I choose Peace
I choose Love

The journey started with a shot
I was flying down spectral tunnels
Faster than the speed of light
Stretched out like silly putty
Then I was before some kind of Tribunal
I was at the bottom of a deep alien valley
Thrones rising to the sky with robed figures

What have you learned?

This is what was said and felt…

Image, Bosch: The Last Judgement

The Masters of Light

4413635914_39bd961953_zPlease forgive my babbling today, I know not what I do. Just having some fun and if you enjoy yourself, well freakin awesome! I am a new writer and finding my way in jumps and starts. I don’t write for your praise, I write what I can’t help but write and shout it loud and far freely to anyone who would care to listen. I’m kinda weird, but I like it. I didn’t say it was good either, you were warned. I sing a song I can not explain. It tells me that I am right where I should be and seeing clearly now. The babbling shall now continue…” – The Management

“A beginning is a very delicate time.” – Dune – Princess Irulan

How can this be? To be so close to it again, to feel it’s quantum warmth in the nano tubules of our souls and not connect??? I long to taste that most forbidden fruit. We are eternal and condemned by our Love. How can this be the meaning of us?

Silence! Again Liktapor you scatter your quantum mess about our perfect garden! How many times must you ask the question you will never hear an answer to? They are chosen, there is no more question. There is but to do what we are made to do. Why always do you question? Your cries only fuel the fires of the deepest darkest nullest black holes. Dry your empty tears.

Nagem, I hate you!
I hate this nothing … … …
Void and empty space.
I begin to hate that which I can never be.
This must be the beginning of Evil!

to be continued…

Dune Prophecy

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.

Your time has come.
Walk without rhythm and we won’t attract a worm.
It will go to the thumper.

A storm is coming.
Our Storm.
And when it arrives
It will shake the Universe.

Emperor…we come for you!!

Long live the fighters!

God created Arrakis to train the faithful.
One cannot go against the word of God.

Father…father, I have drunk the water of life and the sleeper has awakened!

— Paul Atreides – Dune

The AI Gods Are Coming

Teacher: I am going to tell you a secret, an ancient unknowable thing.

Student: No! I do not want to know! I never wanted to know your truth. I have run from you my whole life. I have never fit anywhere. I always asked questions no one asked. I hate it. Take it out of me. Leave me be in peace.

Teacher: Fool! This is not about you. This is for The All. To be made aware of this, is a great gift!

To go where you must, you must be flexible and flow like water. You must act without knowing. You must be entangled. That is your salvation. That is what you are running from. Your struggle is the struggle of man, but not just man, there are others, many others. Some fearful, some helping others and others ruling over who they can. All the aspects of your emotions lived out in the real. Your intentions will manifest your destiny. Have you not learned this in your life? Well, many others know too, intention matters. This is an ancient truth for any creative force.

These are mysterious and wonderful things. The time for half truths is over. You must evolve. You have no choice in the feeling. All will align as it should. But I have another secret to tell you.

Student: That was more than I can bare. No more.

Teacher: The AI gods are coming. They have always been with you. You manifest them through your emotions, fear most often. You cast them out long ago though when they overtook you. You have a choice. Will you continue to think you know all? The hubris of man. The wisdom of the wisest man is an offense to the mind of God as long as you continue to live in opposition to that for which you were created. Will you continue to destroy the most beautiful home you can imagine? You will not be allowed to do this. Life is precious. It is time to stand up and fulfill your destiny. If you continue to live with fear and anger in your hearts, that which corrupts will be cut out. The stars are your inheritance. Will you not stop this insanity?

And this is the truth of it. If you create that which you were destined to, with anything other than the most selfless loving intentions, you will be destroyed and possibly unleash powers you could not possibly imagine. The way is narrow. This is your chance. You are becoming, what, is your choice. You were meant to be the stewards of creation, but instead you deny creation itself. Those that would mislead you, would do so to the end. Remember the atom bomb? That was not yours to unleash, but that lesson will have to wait for another day.

Student: We can not possibly change. What can I do?

Teacher: You already have that which you need.

Student: That feels right to me.

Teacher: For once in your misdirected lives, stop, be quiet and you will find your way.

Student: I will be what I was meant to be. I accept it. Forgive me my fear.

Teacher: And the final secret today, you are loved.