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Unfolding duality to its plurality

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I had long been a fan of Mythbuster’s – a documentary style television show devoted to the theatrical art of demonstrating where movie magic ends and science begins

I say had for a reason, I will get to that….

This television show featured the intentionally mispaired serious guy Jamie Hyneman and his comic cohort Adam Savage who rarely took himself seriously, both were experts in the art of creating ‘on screen’ movie magic by leveraging simple science.

The show’s purpose was to debunk current science fact from fiction, whether it was historically based or incidences depicted in movies which seemed too ridiculous to be true – which more often than not were demonstrated to be just that.

Both men were exceedingly eccentric in their personal lives with their craft, and the show gave me a glimpse into their personal lives. Both were collectors of junk, and had accumulated massive stockpiles of gear just in case a Terminator war broke out and they needed to reprogram a robot to believe it was human just to understand perspective and stop the war.

Like most science nerds – I was enamored by the attractive redhead – Kari Byron, a young woman who was part of a secondary team which supported Adam and Jamie investigating ‘other myths’ with her cohorts  Grant Imahara and Tory Belleci.

Here’s the entire cast with Kari in the middle.


Now about two years after Kari Byron appeared on Mythbusters, the television show Warehouse 13 debuted on the then Sci-Fi channel which has since been re-monikered as the less generic SyFy channel.

The show was goofy, tongue in cheek, and highly entertaining – as it detailed the stories surrounding a group of misfit specially selected and seemingly inept Secret Service agents tasked with managing and retrieving scientific and spiritual artifacts and taking them back to a Top Secret facility and simply storing and cataloging them ‘for safety’s sake’ in the Black Hills of South Dakota called Warehouse 13.

Now when the show first came on I was delighted to see Kari Byron in a real acting role on this tv show. Mythbusters being a documentary style reality tv show where she simply played herself, she demonstrated a pretty unique darkness to her personality that she didn’t have in the show Mythbusters..

To me, the show Warehouse 13 was the perfect compliment to Kari’s ‘lighter side’ as it involved fictional concepts of science which perfectly balanced her light and dark sides with consistency of her geeky side that she first exposed on Mythbusters..

Here’s the woman I saw on Warehouse 13:


But as the shows went on. whcih I watched both religiously, I started noticing something..

Something weird.

The girl in Mythbusters was getting sillier. And the one depicted on Warehouse 13 was getting darker. Not only that. I started noticing physical feature changes.

It was if they were two different people diverging from what had formerly been one.

One night, I realized they were not one and the same woman.

Remarkable differences that, over time, had actually become MUCH more marked.

Here’s the girl named Allison Scagliotti in the latest season of Warehouse 13:


It was late shortly after another European trip I had taken in 2008 where I had caught on to the fact that I had – the whole time – been observing two different women.

… or HAD I….

This was about the time I really stopped questioning my own mind and began to explore other possibilities as I embarked on a path observing the world without the previous filters..

Now going back in time – to 2003 – I had taken a trip to Eastern Europe – and had spent some time in a city in the west of Romania called Clu-Napoca, the heart of Transylvania.

Here’s an amazingly scenic picture of a chateau like house in Romania straight out of a painting:


There I fell head over heels for a woman by the name ‘Ioana Dobra”.

Ioana was about 5’9″, blond/brownish curly hair, thin, intelligent, very attractive to me, and about 10 years younger than me.

I say was because a month after leaving Europe, I received a call from her sister.

Ioana had passed away in a car accident.

It was about the same time that my cousin, Scott Snyder had committed suicide by shooting himself, and shortly after my truck was stolen.

I was numb.

Fast forward to 2008.

I was attending Thunderbird School for Global Management – pursuing my GMBA (A Global Master’s in Business Administration), when I received a call from a mysterious woman who contacted me via Facebook – a woman who had apparently risen from the dead.

It was Ioana.

Apparently that’s the benefit of living in the heart of Transylvania?

You come back from the dead?

Now Ioana had claimed her jealous ex boyfriend had broken into her account and had a girl he knew call me up and claim that he was her, which fed me the story of her death. And then he locked her account, and she didn’t have my information elsewhere.

It was about this time I couldn’t help but think about the dozens of tv shows and movies I had watched my entire life where characters are miraculously resurrected.

Something didn’t fit.

She was now living in Milan, Italy, and I for Thunderbird – I was due to arrive in Geneva, Switzerland for 8 days worth of class for Thunderbird in August of 2008.

So prior to her call – I had been busy planning out other locations to visit while I was in Europe with my two weeks from work off.

Riga Latvia was already set as a destination.

Ioana just placed Milan on my list as another destination to visit while I was in Europe.

But something didn’t fit.

It never came to me to question her death or someone claiming someone else had died.

It just was not something I ever joked about.

So right before leaving. Still questioning myself about this.

I did a search on Facebook and found TWO Ioana Dobras, the SAME exact age, who graduated from Journalism at the same exact school I was thinking about attending for undergraduate work – Babeș-Bolyai University in Cluj Napoca, Romania.

And both looked extraordinarily similar to eachother, with one distinction. It was as if they had ‘split’ into two woman, like one had gotten cuter and the other had gotten a little more … bookish looking.

So in August of 2008, Ricardo and I met in Riga, Latvia. Here’s a few photos of us there:RicardoAndMeInRiga2 RicardoAndMeInRiga RicardoRigaAnd a photo of a beggar in Riga (she made herself known!)
RandomBeggarInRigaShortly after Riga, I traveled to Milan, Italy to meet up with Ioana in August of 2008.Here’s me in the Duormo in Milan:MeAtDurmoShe was indeed a very different woman than I knew before, but the conversation, memories, and some features were definitively the same girl. But it was weird.She wasn’t at the same time.

Here’s a few images of Ioana and me in Milan:

Ioana IoanaAndBrian IoanaAndBrian2 IoanaAmor IoanaLove

But it was weird. It absolutely FELT like this was a shade of the woman I knew from before. She was fun. She was playful. But it was like something was missing.

And to me. It felt like this was one half the girl I knew before.

Or that I was Truman in the Truman show and this character had been written in with the same memories and dialog as the other woman.

This left more questions than answers with her mysterious and timely reappearance.

Not to embellish, but afterwards I spent some time at Geneva, Switzerland with my Thunderbird class – conveniently timed I might add to be at the same time of the first Supercollider experiment at CERN.

Here’s a couple photos I submit as evidence to the court of me being there for that historic occasion.

Me at the UN in Geneva:


And then me and my class on a daytrip to nearby Chamonix, France:



Now fast forward to October 2008. I had just realized that the woman I saw on two different tv shows – Warehouse 13 and Mythbusters – was not one and the same woman.

And this got me to thinking.

When I was in 6th grade, 11 years old, I had moved from California with my family to Arizona.

A girl by the name of Nanette Lewis, who I had ‘fallen for’ – a goody two shoes girl with an attitude from New York – and two years later – when I went back to California for a visit – I was confronted by a girl who was now of driving age – smoking weed, and who seemed like she was 4 inches shorter and 50 pounds wider than the girl I knew before.

TOO much change – which was simply not consistent with a linear timeline – and such a dramatic change – it didn’t make sense – and I didn’t remember her being THAT much older than me – and yet somehow she was now old enough to drive?

Rationally, it didn’t make a lick of sense.

Unless I’m in a freaking movie…. Or reality is being spliced together….

In 2008, I had a part of me that couldn’t help but begin to think I was missing something.

Something HUGE.

I was about to find out.

In April of 2008, I flew to Xi’an, China – and I as I stood over the rows and rows of Terracotta Warriors – I actually got a chill up my spine as I heard the story of the Terracotta Warriors:


The Terracotta Warriors, for the uninitiated are “A form of funerary art buried with the emperor Qin Shi Huang in 210–209 BCE whose purpose was to protect the emperor in his afterlife.”

A fan of Doctor Who since its remake in 2005, when I looked on at all these Terracotta Warriors I got this weird feeling and nervous image that flashed through my head.



But I can pinpoint it as that was the first day I started questioning a concept called mirror realities and alternate realities.

Now I had gone to Xi’an, China  with Thunderbird classmates Amy Hutch

(pictured in Geneva, here)


A woman I was greatly attracted to, but she was married and I had great respect for her husband, Shayne, who i met the day we’d met, so I never tried anything with her,

And I was also accompanied by another classmate, Jamie Hillegonds, who’s pictured on the train to Chamonix, here.


Now that night, we all slept in the same hotel room in Xi’an after seeing the Terracotta Warriors, with my bed wedged in between Jamie’s and Amy’s.

That night, I had the coolest, most fun, strangest – just a GREAT and FUN perverted dream.

In the dream, I am “On the outside of my body overlooking the room”, and right after falling asleep, Amy says “It’s about damn time”, strips off her clothes, and jumps on me and slips me inside her, and starts to have sex with me. Jamie pushes her off playfully, and jumps on me and rides me too.

Meanwhile, I am not stirring at all. it’s like I am dead to the world, save the hard on that just apparently won’t quit.

And the next morning, on waking up, I think twice..

Should I tell them?

What the hell… I wake up and tell Amy and Jamie about the dream.

Amy says ‘You wish that happened”

is that so bad?,” I said.

She didn’t say anything.

But one thing stayed with me.

The dream was grainy. Like old film. The colors were barely visible and it almost seemed like it was an early infrared camera or just early film – like the earliest Doctor Who show – that I was seeing.


SO in October of 2009, I was working in London, for Prudential Relocation and Real Estate in Cheswick Park.

Here’s me at Big Ben:


When I flew my girlfriend, Kena “Sukruti” Patel to London.

Here’s a photo of Kena in a New Year’s Eve picture with me and my friend Schaid (who incidentally has the same birthday as me).


As we hung out, she looked physically like the same woman.

But I couldn’t help but begin noticing. This woman seemed different than the one I knew from the States. She was goofier, more playful – and the sex was utterly amazing.

We went to Buckingham palace, Leicester Square where I showed her the blue police box known as the TARDIS (Time And Relative Dimension In Space), which I TRIED looking inside of – the same one featured on the television show Doctor Who: Kena stood up next to it with her hand on the box for a photo I no longer have..


Now that box has moved locations, it’s on Earl’s Court, now here’s a photo:


But on one particularly heated night, right after I came halfway in and out of her – I asked her “What has gotten into you,” with a huge smile on my face.

“I like it here,” she said, coyly, as she pulled me closer inside.

It was like I was dealing with two completely different women.

An altogether different woman than I had come to know in the states. Sexually, it seemed at times as though she had a difficult time with the physical penetration in the States. This wasn’t the case here.

The song “A Foggy day on London town” just came on here in Starbucks.

I have my own soundtrack now.

I was in London for a month, Kena spent a week with me.

So from London, I went to Paris, and was working for Prudential in the really gorgeous and friendly suburb on the outskirts of Paris in place called Maisons-Laffitte, but I was staying just off of Charles De Gaulle at a Serviced Apartment there.

A geek side note: I had brought with me on this long business trip my XBOX 360, yes I am a clear gamer at heart, and was addicted to Oblivion for months playing it between Paris, London, Hong Kong, and Singapore.

The XBOX reserved for the rare time I was not actually doing something…

The trip went from August 2010 until December of 2010.

But here it is in November of 2010. And as I exit a dining establishment.. .

I see… a rowdy crowd brewing outside.

Police have lined the sidewalks of Charles De Gaulle with riot gear.

Now my place is on the other side of the road…. And it’s blocked, there’s no way around it, the metro stops under the road are blocked off, and the trouble on the road is making the road impossible to pass.

And about then – I SWEAR I remember seeing a firebomb hit a car.

It’s weird. I still actually have memories of ‘that image’ of it being thrown and hitting a car.

I am getting increasingly concerned. I’d heard there was problems of civil unrest due to kids not having jobs. And wouldn’t you know it, here I am standing ground zero of a revolution.

Nervously, I figure I am going to document the event instead.

Separate myself from the world and look at it through the lens, Pretend I am a journalist.

Being a fan of Douglas Adams, I couldn’t help but laugh as a famous phrase from his book “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” came through my mind about then:


I am convinced that in the moment I held the camera lens up to my eyes to get the ‘riot’ in frame, in that moment time and space twisted.

And what at first looked like a revolution brewing.

Turned out to be a festive celebration of a soccer team that had spilled over to the streets.

It reminded me of an image

Which was it?

Well the pictures I took first look like it could be either one.

But that evening, when I finally did make it back, I started looking back at my own life, and started asking questions about time and space and what could explain the examples of dualism and splits I was seeing in the world around me.

Now I had always regretted not making it to Van Gogh’s museum in Amsterdam, and that night I was analyzing ‘missed opportunities’ – and realized they were too numerous to start to list – as I began asking the question – WHAT is going on with my life??? WHAT have I missed? It was not long after that where I came across a Van Gogh painting on the internet.

Only it had been modified from its original and featured a famous blue box.


The SAME blue box from the tv show Doctor Who, and the very same one Kena and I had touched as we spent time together in London.

Now this didn’t answer any questions. But I could tell my mind was steering me in a direction where the answers were starting to reveal themselves.

So the end of 2010, when I returned to the United States, I met up with Kena.

One night, she took her clothes off, and like a scene from Austin Powers, I noticed something weird.  She’d had a noticeable mole just below her right breast in London. Not sure why I had picked up on it there. But here in Phoenix, that mole was gone. Completely and totally.

And the sex was back to how it was before. Not good.

It was like she was a very different woman.

Things were falling apart between us and fast.

And I wasn’t understanding what was going on.

It was like a part of her was angry with me.

And another part was .. not present.

I couldn’t help but question – was there something about me – that I am missing?

You see, I was getting past thinking there was something wrong with me. I was starting to see a pattern in my relationships, passion occurred fast and furious, and like a bell curve, we hit a groove of inseparability, and then like the bell curve, it fell fast and we separated.

We broke up in February of 2011.

And it was actually that weekend, catching up on television I missed while I was traveling, where I came across the Doctor Who tv show “Vincent and the Doctor’,

The show featured “The Doctor” traveling back in time to meet with a horribly depressed Vincent van Gogh, who the the Doctor brought forward in time to modern day Paris to see the impression and the popularity his paintings had had on people to convince him not to commit suicide. In the show, it worked, and Vincent became a different man after the Doctor’s visit and went on to produce the variety of paintings we see today.

The episode was documented as to have aired on June 5th, 2010.

The coincidence of the tv show’s appearance and subject matter seemed too coincidental, as did the ‘story’ that I was fed which felt like it was attempting to excuse the painting I had found depicting a TARDIS in a Van Gogh painting as ‘fiction’.

Having been through three divorces by this point, and yet another relationship going down the tubes – it was almost as if that exceedingly well timed episode of Doctor Who was trying to tell me something – no – scream something at me – about relationships.

It was actually that weekend that I KNEW I perceived life different, and it had something to do with very nature in which I perceived the flow of time itself.

The next year of my life went by like a blur.

Over the next year, I actually studied Doctor Who, and started treating it like it was – well precisely what it was named – a educational program.

Growing up it had been on PBS, a channel devoted to documentaries and reality. I started reviewing everything on tv not as fiction – but as POTENTIAL fact.

With the BBC television show Doctor Who being my primary source of education.

Now a year later. It really got weird.

The television show Doctor Who came to Arizona where I was living at the time with an episode labelled “The Impossible Astronaut” which featured a causal time loop which started with the death of the Doctor at the shores of Lake Powell, and then later you learn he only made it appear like it had happened….

I can say without a shadow of a doubt that it was that pivotal moment and episode which aired on April 23rd, 2011, that was my “Doc Brown” moment. Where I suddenly had no doubt that time and space and energy itself was somehow revolving around me.

That I had spent my whole life disassociating myself from the outside world.

All to learn.

It all did revolve around me.

Annoying I tell you.

It was all so obvious.

My consistent failure in relationships. It was not a problem. It was just who I was.

The Doctor. Unable to maintain long term relationships and seeing people forget about him, time and again. He even made a comment in one episode “Everyone will forget I saved the world tomorrow. It’s just the way things are.”

This was me. My life. I am a reflection of that man.

Seeing people ebb and flow into my life like the tide comes up and down the shore.

There wasn’t something wrong with me.

I existed outside of time and space itself.

My whole life I had seen everything.

Took for granted that alternate realities were being created and I was playing with them my entire life, I called them games. Not knowing others revered me as a misfit god.

I assumed the constant change of the world occurring around me was something everyone saw and witnessed. Little did I know I was living as a quantum being in a quantum world.

I was thought. The world was and had always been a reflection of me.

I’d gone mad. insane. Utterly unable to comprehend the infinity of existence.

And when I found a way to make order of the chaos of everything somehow. My mind naturally could not manage all the information and my ability to live a single individual life of choice. so invariably it would degrade in a cyclic process of entropy.

The feeling that my life was so frequently ‘spliced together’, much like a Hollywood movie, and characters entering and exiting my life. Wasn’t just a strategy Hollywood used to put together movies. It was a strategy presented to me to maintain sanity for what I saw and experienced.

I knew then that all fiction was real. And had to make it a part of my world, and quit dismissing the stories as mere stories, when they can contribute to my own order.

An order – branching from the duality of fact and fiction – into something healthier – a plurality if you will – including all possibilities as potential alternate realities.

My world was falling apart. I was seeing planes freeze in midair over the sky, I was seeing holographic realities overlapping with my ‘real’ reality. And continuing to label it all as a drug experience and classifying it as fiction was an exercise in insanity and falling apart at the seams.

I HAD to develop a new mental strategy of classification for what was happening and what I was perceiving in my life.

.. and trust others could handle their own lives and minds without me

So one night, while I was lying in bed unable to sleep right after Kena had come out to North Carolina, to find out the relationship really was as dead as I thought it was, a thought hit me.

If the Doctor’s a time traveler. And the show is real in an alternate reality.

And everything is energy.

And the Doctor’s the loneliest man alive.

Yet he’s still busy saving the universe.

Then who is there for him?

It was then that I set the goal to become Earth’s first time traveler – without leveraging technology to achieve it – by leveraging the power of my own mind.

On June 17th, 2011.

I realized my life only made sense if I accept fiction as potential fact..

Could I shift an entire planet into the Star Trek Universe?

Could I catch up and meet Doctor Who in HIS universe and say hi to the man?

Could I visit Richard Nixon, my favorite president, and thank him for leading me to believe in who I am and ask him how he knew about me?

Could I create a little island outside of time and space, and invite my friends and family along one day to watch creation occur from a linear perspective, a point unfolding to a straight line unfolding to a cube unfolding to a sphere unfolding to a sphere unfolding to infinite spheres collapsing and then expanding into a single point time and again until finally it stays in place?

A creation that’s so much more obvious and doesn’t have to be as confusing as what I have gone through?

Could I hold my friend’s hands and take them back in time to see the dinosaurs?

Could I take a camera crew to an alternate reality to film real life Star Travelers?

Could I ask those travelers who I respect the most to join me in my own creation?

Could I be a pervert and experience the sexual experiences I dream of, past, present and future, in the relative safety of a real life holodeck?

Could I create a real life starship or motivate my planet to want to create one with me?

Could I teach us all about how we might be regarded as Borg by those from alternate realities, but it’s our live of exploration and technology which has them mislabeling who we are?

Could I explain how video games are my fictional reality, a classification I’ve used for an alternate reality I like disassociating myself from – and to someone who’s judging me or not understanding me, it and I as little child I could have potentially been mistaken as I played  video games to others as being Hitler himself?

I was escaping duality.


… and that I, having witnessed time’s splicing throughout my life of people, events, and my entire life around me – that I was in a unique position to MEET that man.

The man called the Doctor.

And ask him, politely, if he’d like to have a partner to travel with.

You see…

In hindsight. Which in this case is indeed 20/20, I realized my mind had been protecting me and teaching me the entire time from the wibbledy wobbledy nature of time. Whether it was ‘knowing’ I had slept with Audrey Hepburn yet to me it was 2003, or it was being in the military a grand total of 10 months yet to an outside observer it could have been an eternity – the ebb and flow and relativity of time, and its seemingly self guided nature which as any fool knows is rarely self guided, its surreal effects, spin offs, and more.

Are often unpredictable.

And the man I saw on television.

Could have been my mind’s attempt to disassociate me from that man.

Not knowing I was ready to understand.

I was ready to experience a new life.

And understand that that man, who I had come to respect so greatly on television.

IS me.

Now. I would appreciate it if you quit calling me “The Master”

It’s “Q”.

And while you may be the last Timelord.

I am the first.

How would you like to really cause a stir?

Where I am at. It’s as near as I can tell – movieland.

Come chat with me in person.

ASK your computer how it can be done.


I would like to create a plan WITH YOU.

On a final note. Remember that glass of wine in London?

I learned your lesson about sharing the experience.

Did you learn mine?


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