Novels by William G. Tedford

 

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3-New Minds-New Realities

Once upon a time, humanity lived as the animals do. We went many tens of thousands of years assuming that reality is a what-we-see-is-what-we-get affair. Because brain-size is the primary survival feature of Homo sapiens, it got smarter as those millennia passed, at which point humanity spent another several thousand years looking at the spilled brains of fallen comrades and wondering how that could be all that we are.

The unlikely notion of a dynamic conscious entity lurking within a piece of 'meat' contains the first glimmer of realization that reality must be more than what it seems to be.  Appearances are not only deceiving, they may be confusing, and herein lies a danger. Taking the world at face value forces us to accommodate misunderstanding and confusion instead of resolving them.

Who and what are we? Most of us would respond to the question in sensory and social terms, but this just takes us back to square one. How many of us think deeply enough, or are introspective enough, to take notice of the little Jedi mind tricks we play on ourselves in regard to this issue? We know we are more than just the sound we have assigned to represent us, our name. We are more than where we live. If we could replace our bodies one cell at a time, which we do regardless throughout our lives, we remain ourselves.

Consciousness is an experience. We can play with internal representations, but we can never escape 'ourselves'. We can never say what consciousness it beyond our experience of it.

Consciousness is not identity. Identity is based upon continuity of experience. Consciousness does not share in that continuity. We are only conscious now, in this immediate moment. We may be conscious of memory, but any given memory is a feature of the now. We can imagine the future, but consciousness of possibility is a feature of the now. We see the world around, what we deem to be 'objective physical reality', but we see only as much as can be contained with the now.

The conscious moment is the gateway standing between the full potential of the now and the result of our conscious fulfillment of that seemingly fleeting instant of time. It seldom occurs to us that consciousness is structured by personal values and meaning and thereby validates or aligns as best it can in any given moment the structure of our lives. Choices, or focus, 'fixes', or establishes, our personal history contained with our 'objective physical environment', which is always a conscious structure from our subjective point of view. It seldom occurs to us that consciousness is a filter, converting multidimensionality into space-time, that nothing really moves in time, and that our perspective of the world we share with others is always and forever a personal experience that could never be shared with another.

To establish a division between self and other so that we can consider 'other' to be objective to ourselves, we divide the human mind into two distinct arenas, thinker and thoughts, perceiver and perceptions. We identify ourselves as the thinker and the perceiver and the world around us as the perceived and thoughts about the perceived.

The division is invariably internal. Information enters the brain imprinted upon a common form of bioelectrical impulse transmitted by the nervous system and translated as a qualia, a conscious component of our conscious structure of reality, a color, a sound, a taste, a smell, a sensation. Consciousness is a mystery. Scientists dissect human brains, observe dynamic MRI images in an attempt to study consciousness, oblivious to the fact that they are doing so from the standpoint of conscious qualia. Our conviction that what-we-see-is-what-we-get and lies outside of ourselves is so overpoweringly convincing that only in our most powerfully thoughtful moments can we rise above the conviction and recognize the frightening subjectivity of our individual realities.

Anything we experience of the world is a conscious model, and we have never had way to determine whether our conscious models interact directly in unseen fashion as with quantum entanglement, or if our subjective realities are mediated by an 'objective physical reality'. Reality does not operate the same way in these two options, and living in the 'wrong' universe has repercussions, which we can see if we pay close attention to the illusions and delusions our sensorium instills within us. They do so for good reason when the consciousness of the animals is being structured by the blind forces of evolution. When we see the nature of those forces at work, we can intervene. If that intervention is not in our best interest, it will result in the destruction of what we are becoming. If it is beneficial, we will evolve more rapidly into richer arenas of experience. Either way, we only amplify the process rather than transcend it.

We experience our selves, but we take the independent existence of objective reality for granted. It's not obvious to us that the division between self and 'other' is deeply mysterious. As we go about our daily affairs, we assume we interact with an outside physical reality that possesses an independent existence. We've had no awareness of the connections between aspects of reality that are not visible to our 'physical' senses. We currently insist that these quantum entanglements are features of that 'objective physical reality' and play no role in our thought processes, overlooking the observation that our only experience of this 'objective physical reality' lies in qualia, subjective conscious experience which provides structure, but only to our conscious selves. We have no way to transcend, or reach beyond, 'red', Middle C, pain, the aroma of flowers, and the taste of sugar to validate a parallel, separate, objective reality. We reason that reality must be objective to self based upon our ignorance of those invisible connections or entanglements that are said to structure that outside reality, but we have no direct access to it.

Quantum mechanics provides, if we wish to address it, a version of reality free of the need to sustain an assumption of a parallel reality identical to the conscious one. We shy from it because we think subjectivity isolated us from the world when in fact this form of 'quantum' subjectivity includes the entirety of reality. Our apparent subjectivity becomes the equivalent of a subroutine within the ongoing quantum information processing of reality.

Our conviction that we have access to 'out there' in all its bright, noisy glory is absolute regardless of the fact that what we see, feel, hear and touch is the equivalent of an immaterial lucid dream. Only the source of the information that structures our qualia remains in question, but where do we draw the line between 'in here' and 'out there'? Does such a demarcation exist, and how does it go about defining our individuality? Keep in mind that if time is dismissed as an unnecessary facet of reality as some theoretical physicists are wont to do, space goes with it. Without time, the sequential acquisition of information, there is no space, which is parallel or associative information processing. Space and time become part of our conscious information processing structure, but we must dismiss their redundant objectivity. In doing so, we change nothing of our conscious experience, although our new understanding implies interesting possibilities we will address in a future chapter, possibilities we currently dismiss as impossible and thereby 'warp' our overall experience of life in doing so.

For most of us, these points are moot. It seems to us that reality absolutely must be objective to our personal existence because others dwell in the world we see, and we see that they are mortal. They die and we see that the world goes on without them, so we assume that we will cease to exist as well. The world will go on without us as effortlessly as it went on without them. Therefore, it seems apparent that the world preceded all of us and has no requirement within its vast reaches for conscious beings to exist at all. How can we doubt the obvious?

Taken a step further, consciousness becomes curiously irrelevant. Because there is no way for an immaterial force to move matter, consciousness is deemed an epiphenomenon of our physical neurology. It is pointed out that we physically react a fraction of a second before we are even aware of having made a decision to do so. Therefore, if consciousness is a mere tag-along, we are not who or what we seem to be at all. We are an epiphenomena deluded into believing we are more than an ephemeral and impotent ghost in the machine.

We don't buy that, of course. We think we are at the helm of our soul, so to speak, because it seems obvious that we are. Bumblebees can't fly either, right? And yet they do, because we didn't have the grasp of aerodynamics that we thought we did. We don't know how to reconcile the contradiction of a consciousness that can't move matter and the fact that it does, but we know reality is objective to consciousness because a car was build in a factory by people who have died, driven by people who live, and recycled by people still to be born. Obviously, the car is objective to those who have had contact with it. Our experience of reality is dominated by time and space, and our part within it seems to be profoundly insignificant.

The human mind really does seem to be divided between thinker and thoughts, perceiver and perceptions, and objectivity is an explanation for the appearance reality takes for us. A woman gives birth to an infant daughter in New York. Thirty years later, the infant is an adult residing in Sydney, Australia and has children of her own. A world of that size and complexity cannot be contained within any one human mind. Objective physical reality is the arena within which multiple selfhoods reside and is larger than any one of us.

But we also have a problem with the nature of that hard-core physical reality. We say that we ‘see’ light and color, although our optic nerve does not transmit light or color into the dark reaches of the brain. Our ears do not transmit sound. Our nervous system transmits information, and that information in generic form can be interpreted in different ways, as an image, a sound, a taste, an aroma, or a touch. Our neurology structures that information in time and space to give birth to our sensory view of the world, our sensorium.

Our senses are said to transmit bioelectrical impulses into the depths of our brain, but how this information becomes conscious qualia of light and color, aroma and taste and tactile sensation of different kinds is not known. Even our perception of bodies and brains enter the brain as 'bioelectrical' impulses. What is this 'brain' of which we speak in terms other than a structure of conscious qualia? How can we possibly know? How do we step outside of consciousness for an objective point of view?

If this is the first time we have encountered the notion that brains and bodies are only conscious models of reality, this will be our first realization of the trap of the self-referential. If we have no direct access to 'objective physical reality', what could it be aside from our conscious model of it? It's clearly an accurate correspondence as far as it goes in the same way the bubbles on the surface of a CD is a correspondence to the music that can be derived from it, although bubbles are not music and our neurology is not conscious thoughts. Brains are a model of such, and if we think they still exist in the shape and form we see outside of our consciousness, how do we reconcile the horrors Einstein and relativity inflict upon those sacred aspects of reality? Space is curved and time is frozen in the core of a black hole. What about quantum physics claim that reality is superpositioned beyond our conscious wave function collapse of our space-time perspective? Our preferred notion that reality is exactly as we experience it is under constant assault by modern science.

Again, we do not perceive qualia. Even from the viewpoint of a neurologist, qualia is consciousness in and of itself. We do not perceive a world 'out there'. We are that world, both the thinker and the thinker's thought, both the perceiver and the perceiver's perceptions, including information we deem to be ‘other’. Remember that we are not currently debating the origin of that information, only that the information that is part of our world, is our world. We are not saying that any particular consciousness is the entire world unless we manage to tear down the apparent boundaries that separate consciousness into biological 'things' strewn across the universe.

The means by which we structure our conscious world of ‘matter’ and ‘energy’ by what we term ‘time’ and ‘space’ are equally first and foremost part of our conscious structure and not necessarily an objective part of 'out there'. Our logical need for an objective reality does not hold in light of quantum theory. We have no real understanding of the nature of time and space, matter and energy aside from the droll observation that time keeps all events from occupying the same moment and space keeps all matter from occupying the same point. We say all too easily that 'red' is a certain frequency of electromagnetic radiation, but energy is defined even by the most sophisticated dictionary as merely 'the ability to do work', so what is this 'energy' of which we speak? What photons are involved in a full-color lucid dream of a red apple?

The key to the problem of the vastness of reality confronting selfhood is where we traditionally draw the boundaries to our selves. Most of us draw functional boundaries at our skin layer. The individual is defined as a human body, but can that body survive an instant in a vacuum? In a forge furnace?

The conscious model we call the human body is part and parcel of its environment and cannot exist independent from it. The same applies to any aspect of reality, the relationship between the Earth and the Sun, the Sun and the surrounding galaxies. The brain specializes in reducing reality to bite-sized morsels suitable for information processing, but if we reverse the process, we find ourselves overpowered by the complex and extensive unity of reality.

Space divides nothing if paired electrons a billion eons and miles apart can react simultaneously to the disturbance of one. Time is defined as a separation of events, but an 'event' is a happening in time. So, what is time? We can't be as specific as we'd like because we generally don't give conscious experience the thought it deserves. We have functional definitions of the core mysteries of life associated with consciousness. We make unwarranted assumptions about the mysteries themselves, which is why we tend to walk into panes of clear glass now and then.

Definitions of human experience preach to the choir. Imagine the task of describing or defining consciousness to an artificial intelligence. That AI would never broach the subject of consciousness in the same way and for the same reason a gay man does not wax poetic about romantic or sexual encounters with women, or the same way the blind do not initiate a discourse on the intricacy of the color in a fireworks display, or the deaf passionately discuss the audio qualities of various musical instruments.

'Energy' is defined as 'the ability to do work'. Definitions run us in circles within our dictionaries, one term attempting to define another. We're missing something, a common source for our definitions, but we're blind to that 'something'. What we are missing is our inability to step outside of conscious experience to define an experience in terms of something objective to that experience. This is why we can't say what 'red' is aside from an association with a rose and a 'frequency of electromagnetic radiation', which still doesn't guarantee that I am seeing what you would define as 'blue'. Even if we could step outside of ourselves and have a new, larger reality with which to define consciousness in terms of something else, how would be define our new reality without again needing to step outside of it for an even greater objective view?

It's important to concede that we experience psychological time and space. We are not contesting what seems to see aside from overconfidence placed in defining it in terms of something beyond conscious experience. We are only saying that we do not have absolute objectivity with which to work. There is, and has always been, something very strange afoot in our insistence that we stand apart from reality, that consciousness is one thing and reality something objective to it. This is the thinker/thought and perceiver/perception phenomena at work when we know our neurological processes do not differentiate between the two. There are no neurons that are 'self' and other neurons that are 'other'. Psychological space-time gives birth to relative psychological objectivity, as with a dreamer and his or her dream.

Some qualia are intimate, as with emotion. We have an admittedly subjective self made up of conscious feelings and thought and then the ever-changing flow of qualia that comes from beyond the recognized self. We become very much like a puppy chasing its tail, confused and angered when it notices that 'alien' thing constantly sneaking up behind it. Even in ordinary psychology it's recognized that very much of what we consider 'objective' is very much a part of our individual selves. The question we will raise here focus upon the assumed boundaries and definition of 'individual'.

Like animals who will attack or turn away in disinterest from their own reflection in a mirror, convinced of the objectivity of the reflection, issues regarding our relationship to the universe aren't recognized as important to a definition of who and what we are. We are born and we die and build our lives in reality-as-it-seems-to-be just like mice. In terms of time, our neurology is the product of billions of years of evolution and serves us well, unless we are in a process of transition, a dinosaur with wings leaping from tree to tree, or a lungfish lumbering in some discomfort across the landscape. Regardless, what’s the point in questioning any of it? If the subject is of any interest to us at all, we shake our heads in exasperation at the confusion we can bring to light, and we have done so for millennia. We confess that we have a problem looking too far beyond the workaday world within which we are equipped to function and survive. It doesn't seem to be a practical problem, so we let it ride.

This is the nature of the mind-body problem. We are in a process of transition when we notice its existence. Are we an epiphenomena of a fundamental material world, or is reality contained within a sphere of conscious existence within which our individuality is ensconced? We can’t have it both ways. The notion of two separate, alien, but nevertheless perfectly compatible realities is profoundly unlikely, even if the idea of an immortal existence in a common waking 'dream-world' strikes us as a tad unsettling. We prefer hard demarcations between 'self' and 'other'. 'Other' is the greatest psychological defense we have against things and happenings that can do us harm.

We've left the issue to the philosophers to bicker over in past eras. Today, most of us settle for two separate realities, the material world and the ‘spiritual’ world based on the primitive Greek notion that we ‘breathe in’ invisible forces of inspiration and emotion into our lives, as with the word 'respiration'. We see ourselves as 'souls' contained in our bodies and brains.

We accept that within the countless light-years of emptiness littered with exploding suns and massive black holes sucking in the detritus, we have little to no impact. Aside from countless religious fantasies vying for our uncritical belief, our lives appear to be ultimately meaningless and futile to boot. Meaning, like everything else, is a relative term, and we would continue chasing our tails contemplating our existential confusion, if it served a purpose. There seems to be no point in doing so.

Death is an undeniable sensory observation. We see our loved ones cease to function and decompose. The earth at our feet is the product of biological death, although we could say that biology recycles and only the conscious individual truly dies. Therefore, life on earth is part of an unbroken chain of reproduction going back four billion years or so, a process that will not end until the Earth itself vaporizes in the superheated atmosphere of an expanding Sun. We could also say that the Sun and the Earth and all that lived upon it was born of the death of stars and the death of our own star will add a bit of material to the intergalactic clouds from which new stars, worlds, and the life upon them, will continue to emerge.

Notice that within the hard logic of this de facto capitulation to the 'body' side of the mind-body problem there's no room for the individual, specifically, the conscious individual. If consciousness serves no real purpose in reality, why are we insulted and tormented by our impotence? We're an entirely irrelevant and disposable aspect of reality, or so it seems. Reality needs everything but us to function. Still, it's only a problem if we could do something about it. It is, otherwise, a simple fact of existence, an observation of what seems to be.

Our capitulation to that world-view, however, comes at a cost. During the course of our lives, we face that critical decision as to how much effort we invest in the world beyond our self. The pleasure/pain principle goads most of us to derive as much satisfaction as can be attained from the ‘here and now’ and make do with that. We stay busy and rent video disks in the evening, fantasize adventures we seldom have, and settle for the adrenalin they produce. Except for occasional and tragic deaths among loved ones, we seldom acknowledge the utter vulnerability of our selves. We tell ourselves that death lies decades away, not worth bothering ourselves over now, although one breath of air and one beat of our heart stands between us and utter and complete oblivion.

This serves as ‘meaning’ for most of us. Others fantasize further existence in afterlives of various sorts to the corpses we bury at our feet. We have a total of twenty-six hundred gods to attend to the dead. If the gods challenge our credibility, some of us succumb to drugs, alcohol, mental-illness, or suicide as the answer to the lack of purpose to our lives. We all suffer a degree of existential anxiety that reflects our recognition of the mystery of our existence. If death is forever, how did we come to be to begin with? If our conscious existence happened once, why can't it happen again?

Let's take a simplified look at the nature of this insidious mind-body problem at a more personal level. On one hand, there's no way for consciousness to tweak the slightest atom, molecule, or cell in our brain to initiate a series of events should we decide to get up out of a chair and walk across a room. Modern science has never seen such a process at work, and it has most certainly looked with every tool at its disposal. Every injury to the brain is reflected by an accompanying dysfunction of mind and personality. Consciousness must, therefore, be an epiphenomena of neural processes of the brain. Our brains do all the work. We're just along for the ride, an emergent illusion of the process.

On the other hand, there's absolutely no direct evidence whatsoever that anything physical exists. After all, we are only conscious of the world. We can scream, yell, bang our drums, kill, detonate thermonuclear warheads, launch spaceships to the moon, be invaded by aliens from outer space, or pull out all of our fingernails with needle-nose pliers, and through it all, there is no way to step outside of our conscious minds and the qualia of our experience to see the objective world we imagine to exist. Reality is conscious experience. Nothing more can be said of it.

When we talk about a perception of a physical item, however, we have made an assumption that we are dealing with two separate realities, one a mirror image of the other, one conscious and immaterial, the other 'physical' and real. The physical, real and objective is starkly convincing if, as an example, we are involved in a fourteen car pile up on an interstate and have both of our legs broken. The fact that we are still experiencing qualia within the confines of immaterial conscious experience will have no emotional impact upon us whatsoever.

Actually, what we are doing when we differentiate between 'I' and 'other' within the confines of the mind is to dissociate some conscious parts of ourselves from others and interpret a conscious qualia as 'an objective material thing'. It is in this manner that we give rise to two separate realities, a thinker and his or her thoughts, or a perceiver and his or her perceptions. The separation is functional. It does not otherwise exist.

To a large degree, the separation between 'I' and 'other' is a personal defense mechanism and part of our cultural conditioning. We are told in indirect ways as we mature by self-styled cultural authorities exactly where society expects that boundary between ‘self’ and ‘other’ to be placed within our psyche, and what the relationship between the two should be.

In the minds of lesser animals that have but a rudimentary sense of selfhood, the self-referential dilemma of the mind-body problem does not exist. It is never contemplated. Once the division is born and clearly perceived in the reflective depths of more developed minds, and until it is resolved and understood for what it is, a war of survival between self and a cold and heartless 'objective physical reality' is waged. Even chimps have been observed grieving the death of a mother so intensely that they, too, have died. Until this war is seen as a lack of understanding of the nature of reality, it is a war that invariably threatens personal destruction and oblivion and is all too often preemptively self-destructive. We kill ourselves rather than wait to die in subtle and not so subtle ways. It is a war currently engaging the whole of humanity. It engages each of us daily on an intensely personal basis.

It doesn’t have to. In the future, it won’t. It will take time for new paradigms to filter through the human species, but the resolution to the mind-body problem has been at hand for the past century. An understanding of some of the confusion was readily at hand even before the eve of quantum theory. Some of the paradoxes that arise from a strictly sensory interpretation of reality were apparent thousands of years ago by astute thinkers such as the Greek philosopher Zeno. Zeno reasoned that an arrow takes time to reach half the distance to its target. He reasoned that any remaining distance can be subdivided, endlessly, each taking the arrow a smaller, but discrete moment of time to transverse. Therefore, given that our reality is a continuum, the arrow would take an infinite number of moments to reach its target which is, in essence, an infinite distance away, because space can be endlessly subdivided in the same way.

Today, we understand that our reality is not a continuum. It is 'digital' in nature. Time and space cannot be endlessly subdivided, but end at the Planck constant. There are only so many temporal subdivisions between an arrow and its target. The bow and the target are only so many spatial 'quantum' apart from one another, not an infinitely dividable continuity.

Notice that this insight affects 'objective physical reality'. What about conscious experience? Is consciousness 'digital' in nature or a unified continuum? A unified continuum links quantum processes. A digital reality bears a stronger resemblance to a projected film upon a movie screen, a sequence of stills that provides the illusion of movement. In a superpositioned reality, what factor gives continuity to a space-time structure that otherwise possesses no continuity at all? Sure, space-time structure is inherent within Platonia in the same way a sculpture is inherent within a block of granite, but we experience space-time history in a manner that is not possible to an infinite potential with no means of manifesting space-time except as infinite potential. Consciousness and space-time history are synonymous terms.

We are like lungfish standing upon the shores of a new reality, perfectly fit for neither the sea behind us nor the unknown land lying in wait before us. Ours is a challenge faced by any organism living anywhere in any universe that evolves to our level of complexity, a state of mind straddling realities alien to one another. What happens beyond this point in our development we cannot even begin to imagine, because we ourselves stand on the precipice and have not yet progressed beyond it.

Lesser animals are goaded toward survival-oriented behavior by virtue of the ancient pain/pleasure principle. The ante has been raised for Homo sapiens. We see through it and have mastered it and have been left floundering in its wake. We take drugs or create psychological ploys to alleviate our pain and suffering, but have we cured our problems having simply numbed our symptoms? What incentives do we have to live once all the pain has gone and readily available pleasure becomes blasé? What incentives do we have to work to improve ourselves in the face of our conviction of our own inevitable extinction? What new values exist when the old ones evolved to accomplish little more than to move cattle from one green patch of grass to another?

Modern answers to these age-old questions lie in the understanding of that new reality implied by quantum theory and those isolated photons that manifest themselves as an interference pattern in the infamous double-slit experiment. In that new reality, the world is not at all what it seems to be. It does not work the way we think it works. We are not who we thought we were.

So, what is the nature of that new ante that has been raised for Homo sapiens? What will be the consequences of our failures in life, or the rewards of our successes, in light of these new realities?

The pleasure/pain principle is still in effect after all, because our misinterpretation of its purpose is our disease even when nothing ails us. It was never meant to prevent or postpone death, only to fulfill to the greatest extent possible the potential of our lives. Our reward for seeing the world as it is beyond the view afforded by the part of our brain inherited from lions and tigers, mice and cows, when we achieve it, will be the panoramic view of more distant horizons and broader vistas of our personal existence. Even if these are not sensory visions of our new reality, but rather abstract structures of thought born in the neocortex, they still allow us to face the apparent darkness of physical death and the chasm that exists between our lives and the lives of 'others', knowing as an irrefutable fact that not all of reality and its unifying connections are visible to the senses.

Recognition of this greater reality involves more than just an understanding of its nature. It involves knowing how it undermines old and fallacious ideas of selfhood and space-time reality seen through ancient lenses of cultural beliefs and tradition. Just as knowledge of germs alleviated our fear of demons even before modern medicine alleviated our suffering, quantum theory alleviates the existential terrors our old Newtonian reality has instilled within us by insisting that consciousness is an ephemeral epiphenomenon in a what-we-see-is-what-we-get reality. It is far more than that.

Platonia, brain-child of Julian Barbour, author of The End of Time: The Next Revolution in Physics, is that new reality. Its strange inhabitants in this acausal realm are quite alien to those who consider Isaac Newton part of their heritage. Newton's inhabitants saw and acted upon an immediate reality that had horizons beyond which the self did not exist. From the standpoint of these creatures, the inhabitants of Platonia appear as veritable gods, just as feeble and mortal from one perspective as insects, birds, and mammals, Homo sapiens included, but ultimately infinite and eternal in ways that can be, and have been, demonstrated within our modern quantum-based technology.

None of the cultural and traditional fallacies based upon ancient, common-sense observations of our sensory reality are original to this century. The vast majority of humanity then and now cannot see beyond superficial appearance, just as we had little choice but to assume at one time that the sun, moon, and stars moved across the sky and the earth stood obviously still. It took clearly great, exceptional minds to clearly see the Earth and the planets revolving around the sun by virtue of the complex dance of lights in the night sky, and we're all a lot smarter these days. We increasingly recognize the psychological nature and social purpose of the fallacies of culture and tradition. The paradoxes that lie at the root of commonly understood reality have begun to unsettle all of us to some degree. Few of us are ignorant of the fate of the ‘rock-solid’ universe in the minds of the Albert Einsteins and David Deutsches of our day and age.

Welcome to the greatest challenge of the twenty-first century, a challenge that ensconces the crises of weapons of mass destruction, destruction of the environment and the approach of the mythical Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. How can we hope to manage a world that reflects the beings we are when we have entirely misunderstood ourselves?

Are we interested in the manner of being we are beyond the superficially apparent? Our lives are not at risk, although we perceive that they are, that death and destruction await but a few short years down the road. We may even find death comforting in light of the greatest implication of an acausal interpretation of quantum theory, that we are immortal, that we will always inhabit this acausal, but ever-changing moment of time, although it will never be the same from change to change. Time and space are epiphenomena, or so implies quantum theory, not our conscious existence. In terms of time and space, we have always been here, although 'here' is currently unique. Because existence is a quantum, acausal phenomenon and not a place in time and space, there is no other where to go, and no when.

Ours is not a simple existence despite its simple premise, that of a primal ‘polarized’ entity interacting with itself binary-style, generating infinity and eternity in its conscious wake. Reality expands by virtue of the dynamics of trial-and-error evolution. We are explorers of unmanifested possibility. We bring our dreams into the light of day.

Evolution is trial and error by nature, because there's too much information ‘out there’, infinite information, for us to process as finite, space-time beings. We can only be infinitesimal fractions of the overall equation. But we can be, at least, aware of the process. A great deal of unnecessary suffering can be avoided once we recognize the fundamental fact that consciousness manifests its choices by virtue of focus, not as the reality it perceives, but as the reality it is.

Have we noticed as yet that there is no reference in this book to 'you'? This book is about ‘we’, you and me, all of us, relative individuality manifested in a continuum in which unity reigns like the spectrum of a rainbow. We are the indivisible Gods of Platonia. At our core lurks an ‘I’ that is a primal perspective of the infinite, a multi-dimensional ‘I’ that sees in infinite directions in the immanent Now. Each of us is one of these perspectives of the whole. Between these poles of reality, the unified consciousness of the immanent Now and its infinite space-time perspectives, lie the seemingly isolated, endless lives we each lead in our infinite multitude.

Gods of Platonia is a primer on the simplest of levels, not of how it all works, because we have only a glimmer of understanding with which to work, but how the world as we have viewed it cannot work, how our sensory perspective of reality, which serves the animals well, fails humanity and threatens it very existence. 

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Copyright © 2007 by William G. Tedford - All rights reserved