A few years ago, I began discovering that fiction was a label used to separate.
There’s a common belief that fiction, is the same thing as saying ‘not real’.
And up until 2011, when I encountered a series of visions ultimately winding up with me experiencing – with all my senses – a nuclear holocaust world which was straight out of a Terminator movie.
I’d suddenly found myself having to confront my definition of fiction.
I had been told these events were ‘hallucinations’, all enticing me to live by the same intellectual bondage that had been placed there by the label ‘fiction’ – but once I had the chance to breathe and reflect on my visceral experiences.
I found questions I’d long had unanswered were finding answers.
For instance, I had a friend – note the keyword – named Spencer who loved his movies and could oddly remember entire dialogs from movies he’d only watched once. A feat I was amazed at, repeatedly, that was so impressive he could recall an obscure line from a movie that he had watched only once ten years prior.
He was like Rainman. On coke and weed.
He’s the one who turned me on to my cocaine supplier in Phoenix, and we’d often see eachother there or share our supplies.
But throughout our relationship, I’d been trying to understand how a mind like his worked.
I’d been using traditional, collective explanations trying to resolve the conflict, as this man, a not so good sales guy, had a clear gift I just didn’t understand and as a programmer this intellectual disparity between our thought processes blew my mind.
Until I started inviting in elements of fiction to begin answering those questions.
For Spencer. Especially after I saw what I saw in the desert. Fiction and my personal experiences began providing numerous potential answers. Spencer’s an android or cyborg with a programmed mind. Terminator helped provide these possibilities.
And then there was Doctor Who and Q, or the more down to earth Italian film “Life Is Beautiful”. Which suggested there was time displacement issues with relativity and my perception of the world, or that my perception was simply not one and the same as those I was interacting with.
Was the world around me to those around me something different than what others saw?
The evidence was mounting.
I began rewatching shows I’d watched before.
Supernatural. Where Dean and Sam – hunters who hunt supernatural prey – fall into an alternate reality where they meet themselves as actors on a set and come to learn their entire lives in this world was fiction, and they were widely regarded stars of their show.
I rewatched Sliders. The show had changed from when I first watched it.
As had geography for parts of my world.
Which suddenly answered the question I had about “How could Einstein be so bad at Geography with his brilliant mind?”
The answer to that came in observing baseball with my father.
I was always bored with baseball games.
And quite often. The pitcher would throw the ball to the catcher who caught it, in a highly predictable fashion.
And as my attention wandered. I’d look away right as the pitcher went to throw the ball.
A moment later I’d look back and the catcher would be holding it.
I assumed the ball arrived there as I had predicted it would through repeated observations.
But one time, the observation proved inaccurate. As the pitcher wound up like he did a thousand times before. But stopped, mid throw, taking the ball, looking at it, and then tucking it firmly in his pocket as the catcher stood up and pulled a ball from his pocket and threw it to the pitcher.
Had I not paid attention. I would have missed the entire sequence and would have assumed the ball had arrived as was typical.
This answered the Einstein question.
Einstein, on ACCEPTING relativity, began seeing direct evidence of it in the real world. Unable to fully comprehend the concept of alternate realities and timelines and geographies and political lines associated with them and perceived time – decoupled – from individual to individual thus creating distinctive individual timelines, he’d simply told himself the story that he was bad at geography.
It’s not that he was bad at geography.
He just didn’t fully understand the implications of his theory.
And how this ripped apart at a collectively uniform timeline by introducing individual perspective and relative timelines associated to that perspective.
So as I analyzed movies with a new eye.
The Matrix understanding the implications of a programmed reality and infinite potential truths.
Fight Club and the truly remarkable possibilities the mind might have in creating friends and loved ones and how it might work with and against me at times to ‘tell stories’ to dismiss or disassociate myself from events in much the same way Einstein told himself that he was bad at geography or I had with my inattention to baseball.
AS I watched tv show after tv show.
And person after person I’d previously mocked…
Intentionally finding a way not to mock it.
Intentionally flexing my mind to justify their perspective.
I suddenly found myself believing in God and the bible as a story about one being’s life in a multiverse of possibilities.
I suddenly found myself believing Doctor Who was a real time traveler, especially if thought was the force which created reality and fear as a typically opposing force inspired the community I lived in to create something to believe in which mitigated the risks of those fears from manifesting in reality.
Vampires. Killer Robots. Gremlins. Santa Claus.
I was beginning to understand both Neo AND Mr Smith in the Matrix, as I asked – how could a being that was supposed to be a program HATE reality that much?
The slippery slope of reality is understanding that when you break apart the human body into any pieces, whether you label those pieces as polygons or you label them as chemical elements, the simple fact of the matter is – it’s belief combined with desire which hold it together.
In the moments I’d seen hell.
I’d realized heaven was real.
AS a broken man who wasn’t enjoying a world which lacked magic and hope.
I’d suddenly realized that this was all a training program.
And that it’s my responsibility to you and self appointed job.
To do what the President as an elected leader can’t do.
And that’s be me.
My goal is simple.
To bring magic to this world.
To teach this world it’s real.
To teach you it’s safe. And we’re ready for it.
And to inspire the most important person in the world to me.
You, God, You.
I’m sorry it took me so damn long to believe.
I know, it’s a little sad it took me a little over 2000 years to figure out you were female!