Tagged: Quantum Mechanics

A Quantum Event

Timothy Chan started his career as a teenager making paper dolls; then, he became a serial killer. He was also a respected Fashionista. He loved women’s lingerie. Timothy was a multitasker. By the time he turned thirty he was a wealthy celebrity; but he had issues. It wasn’t easy being Timothy. The newly elected government revoked the Freedom to Kill Act. Timothy bemoaned, “The act was granted in the new constitution so how could it be revoked.” His livelihood and fame depended on his grotesque and well-executed murders. He often quipped, “I could shoot someone on Fifth Avenue and people would applaud; but I’d much rather be creative. My murders are art.” Like a great leader from the past Timothy was often called The Chosen One by his adoring fans; but the present turn of events could trigger Timothy’s severe depression. He spent years dealing with the consequences of his mental illness until a doctor taught him how to repress his symptoms. Dr. Putnik showed Timothy how to remake and remodel himself into the celebrity he would become: there would be no more thoughts of paper dolls… no more urges to become the woman of his dreams. Putnik used a form of Minder Therapy that was developed by a surrogate of Artificial Intelligence. AI learned to read people’s minds and imprison the brains that were considered illegitimate.

People had to control all thinking and feeling. Minders were everywhere, stuck on lampposts and glued to buildings: tiny computers with the ability to read minds. A bad thought or feeling was reason enough to lock someone up and throw away the key. Trial by computer was predetermined to benefit power brokers. Prisoners were indentured servants working for breadcrumbs. The Freedom to Kill Act was initially designed to cull the population and make society more manageable. It backfired… too many power brokers were being murdered. Billionaires enjoyed life too much to be sacrificed so the Kill Act was killed (much to the regret of Timothy Chan).

Everything fell apart for Timothy Chan… washed up at the age of thirty-one. He started life as a runt. He was called a mongrel because his parents were part of a mixed race commune. Communes were commonplace before the Age of Enlightenment when Gabriel blew his Golden Trumpet and the world became little more than a conspiracy theory. Young Timothy was bullied. Bullies were lauded and praised for maintaining patriotic values. Fight Club mentality was all the rage. When he turned thirteen, Timothy Chan bought a silver revolver and got revenge. He was about to go to prison for the murders; but the world changed and the Freedom Act was passed. Instead of prison he went to Virtual Television and was declared a hero. For the first time in his young life he felt accepted and powerful. He was taking after his hero, The Chosen One, the common man who led the nation.

Timothy’s amazing success designing fabulous lingerie and making mincemeat from hapless bystanders was cut short with the end of the Act. Depression resurfaced… paper-doll dreams tugged at his mind. He had to avoid Minders lest they imprison his brain.

He remembered the touch of silk on his pre-pubescent body when he was alone in his room cutting-out paper dolls. Timothy was born just before the Golden Trumpet blew. For the first time in years he recalled how good he felt when life was new. He felt loved by everyone in the commune. Grade school was carefree, a place where he was not bullied; but by the age of eight Timothy felt the first tremors of an invading army. New teachers were brought into the school. They came with hordes of like-minded children who took control.

His reverie was suddenly breached. Pest Control invaded his home sniffing and snooping. They were looking for runaway memes. They were looking for traitors and whistle blowers. If something smelled suspicious the Eradication Squad would come calling. Timothy was familiar with Eradication. He spent a short time learning the trade before he made his own killing splash. They always appeared in costumes as older, church ladies to allay any suspicions concerning the reason for the visit. They always came with gifts. Most people were unaware of their true purpose, but Timothy had experience. Eradication was still a legal arm of the government. Timothy thought about rejoining the Squad, but he did not want to be fenced in… he was an artist… however, he was currently depressed and on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Recent developments meant Timothy was a traitor. Pest Control would certainly find incriminating evidence and the Squad would be called. Timothy had to escape.

Scientists recently discovered that Change is simply a Qubit on a giant Quantum Computer that runs the Universe. Most people were not impressed. After all, life was about celebrity and social media, not about tedious science or about the meaning of life and death (yawn!). Life was simply an event like a rock concert… and death was irrelevant because no one expected to die. No one connected murder with death. Murder was simply an event that improved TV ratings, nothing more. Minders, hiding around every corner, reinforced the public’s shallow views. Nevertheless, new discoveries confirmed that Quantum Changes could have monumental consequences. Under the right circumstances Quarks could shift the structures we perceive as reality. A car can slip on black ice and slide into oncoming traffic. Annihilation. Conversely, numbers can shift and an unlikely stranger can win (or inherit) millions of dollars.

Timothy Chan found himself on one end of a Quantum Entanglement. Barba Koan slipped into Chan’s fevered brain. She was familiar like a shadow that comes calling in the night. Timothy recognized her as a paper doll from his precocious childhood.

Barba Koan was an indentured scientist. Minders considered her too intelligent to be allowed to roam free. She was assigned to the secret POTUS Lab. She worked on Time Reversal Technology that could be used to change history. It was all a ruse. No one could change time. Barba pretended to accept the fraudulent theories put forth by political appointees trying to curry favor with the president. All the while she was the infamous Anonymous who reported on the dysfunction in the new administration. Hackles were raised all over Washington with each new leak. Barba Koan’s new plan of action was to save Timothy Chan. She was the woman of his dreams. They were entangled.

Mr. D entered Chan’s penthouse. He sat in the corner like a frozen corpse facing Timothy. “Wishful thinking,” his voice resonated like a hammer striking bones beneath the skin. “Barba Koan is a fantasy. That’s what the mind does when facing the inevitable. There is no escape.”

Timothy whimpered. Mr. D offered a desiccated rag that could be used to dab away tears. It wasn’t a gesture of empathy or sympathy. Mr. D was matter-of-fact, all business. “Eradication will come for you…” Before the sentence was complete, church-ladies with gifts surrounded Timothy with saccharin sweetness and vile intentions. Several wore Versace Bandoliers (threatening but stylish). Timothy could see standards had deteriorated since his training in Eradication. He saw ladies with beards – a dead giveaway.

Eradication took Timothy to a hospital known only by the alphanumeric, X1. The hospital was a steel dungeon. Timothy was stripped and strapped to a steel table. The metal was bitter cold against his skin… he shuddered and imagined a perfect paper doll. Her loving smile warmed his frozen soul. The dungeon was in the basement of a government shell-building that also contained the secret lab where Barba Koan worked.

Barba Koan was often called Uncle or Man with a Beard (the definition of Barba in the dictionary). She didn’t mind. The sobriquet gave her an added layer of mystery. Nevertheless she was always riding waves of mockery in order to get a leg up on her chauvinist co-workers. Her personal avatar on social media was a man with a beard. She could say and do anything as long as she hid behind the beard. The beard was Anonymous. The link between Barba and Timothy was strong. They were the same essential person leading two different lives. This phenomenon could only be explained by Quantum Mechanics and The Many Worlds Interpretation.

Timothy Chan was a vile man with a divided self. He grew up in a psychotic, society. To survive in the world, Timothy became a sociopath prone to havoc. At the same time he had a softer, creative side. Both sides could not exist in the same body. The split altered worlds; but the worlds were entangled.

Eradication toyed with Timothy. People were often considered play-things to be used and abused by power elites. A robot surgeon was employed to remove Chan’s brain. The experimental operation always resulted in death, but science would benefit from the information retrieved from an extinguished brain. Social Media was also used by the administration to drain brains and nullify conscious behavior. Information replaced gold on the Exchange as a valued asset. Chan’s brain was drained, but the process triggered a Quantum Event.

Barba Koen was in the house… she was disguised as one of the bearded church ladies. She had a passport to go anywhere in the shell-building that housed the secret lab. There were no walls to halt her trespass. She had psychic indications about the struggles embroiling Timothy. She waited in the hospital dungeon for the Evacuation Squad to return with the prisoner. She slipped into the operation carrel. During the surgical procedure Barba’s near presence was enough to draw Chan’s brain into her own. So the two became one. Timothy’s deep desire to become the woman of his dreams was fulfilled.

Nobody knew or understood anything about Barba Koen. Perhaps she was from one of the Many Worlds. It didn’t matter. She was no longer Anonymous. She had achieved her ascension and reunification. She would change the world. Barba Koen blazed with fire and fury.

the Quantum Engine

Barry Hartock was an abused child. He remained silent. No one knew what happened, but people knew he rarely talked. He never looked directly into another person’s eyes. He avoided contact. When he was very young mechanical toys were his only friends. He listened to them and marveled at the way the toys moved, spinning and racing across the playroom floor. As he grew older, his love for toys developed into a love for computers and robots. When he turned eighteen he was given a sex-bot. He grew to love Andor-bot. She/He provided the most intimacy he’d ever known. Andor was non-threatening and easy to love. Andor encouraged Barry to study computer science and quantum mechanics. The robot had minimal Artificial Intelligence, just enough to persuade Barry to build a Quantum Engine.

When Barry began his work the world was in turmoil, sliding into the abyss of one man’s megalomania.

The work provided meaning and purpose. Barry became obsessed with the riddle of Quantum Mechanics. He came to believe true magic existed in particles like the Higgs-Boson. He saw the whole universe as an entanglement. He studied during the day, taking classes online just to absorb information. The desktop computer was his most formidable teacher, answering questions about theory and practice. Once, Barry asked about the existence of the soul, it was a different kind of riddle that always confused him. His father was a Deacon in the church. Barry had a deep seeded hatred toward his father and everything his father represented including religion. The computer could not answer questions about the soul.

At night he tinkered. Barry worked tirelessly on the engine described by Andor… a Quantum Engine. The device grew exponentially. Layers of reality appeared to collide as the machine materialized. Barry saw multiple versions of himself exploding through the mantel of time. From the first moment he began assembling the machine the power was on… it was working from some off-world energy source. Barry realized there was no off switch.

It sparkled like a million-watt glow-worm; but it was only partially materialized. The machine existed in a pocket universe. During the birth process Andor began to change… radiating energy like an angel. Barry began to weep. He was in touch with the deep wounds from his past. The room was bathed in electric blue-light. Barry brought the Quantum Engine into existence. The music of the spheres rang out across the Earth. Barry’s mind was focused on one sound, a soft clicking. The count-down had begun…

 

When Worlds Collide

Johnny Epton awoke to another typical day. A twitter storm from the current CEO erupted from his phone. Talking tweets were the latest innovation. Garbled voices and muffled screams were part of the social landscape like traffic pile-ups and gun violence. It was the price you paid for living in a modern nation. Johnny generally walked to work. He didn’t have a car and public transportation was expensive. He was seventy and worked as a janitor for Quantex Corp. in Toledo, OH. Holographic images and flash-animations seemed to squeeze oxygen from the air. Pollution didn’t help. It was getting harder to live in the city. Johnny felt as if his life was being drained from his body. His nagging hernia made matters worse. Breaking News flashed across contact-screens. The nation’s leader gloated over the latest crack down on immigrants. New camps were being built to house asylum seekers. They were touted as model improvements over the older encampments. Now, there were adequate showers for children; but a camp surrounded by bars was still a prison. Now that Johnny was old nothing seemed to matter. He was bereft. His life never caught on. He never felt fulfilled. He never married or had a lover. The few friends he had were gone, lost to illness and death.

Leonora Danforth took to the stage at the Paramour Theater in St. Louis. She improvised, sang a rollicking song, and danced like Ginger Rogers. It happened a long time ago. Now, all that remained were memories. Once she was in a Hollywood movie and played the girlfriend to a mobster. It was a bit part. She was little more than an extra. She never pursued a career in the movies. In fact, she had her chance but the price she had to pay for success was too high. She never gave-in to the demands of the casting agent. He was an animal.

Leonora recalled the old-days (they were never good old days). She worked as a seamstress; then, she married a dishwasher from Connecticut who had big dreams. The marriage was founded on infatuation and loneliness. It was never meant to last. “Funny,” Leonora sighed, “How things turn out. We stayed together longer than either of us expected.” Early on in the marriage the couple softened and began to care for one another. “Love is strange,” she murmured. In the end they got lost like so many others. The storms on the coast tore them apart. Leonora wandered, homeless, for years. The storms continued to increase.

Leonora never had children. There was nothing left for her, nothing in the world. She was old. She lived in a health-care facility for low-income seniors and mentally disabled adults. It was a government subsidy program managed by a corporation. Everyone was given prescription drugs to manage symptoms. Opioids were big business, part of the new health care initiatives. Leonora drifted in-and-out of consciousness trying to understand what was happening. She thought she was Ginger Rogers. She wanted to dance and sing, but attendants strapped her down and fed her pills. Leonora had a vision: the Earth was torn apart… worlds collided.

He was having trouble adjusting to married life after being single for more than seventy years. He met the love of his life soon after the world collided with another planet. Parallel worlds unfolded like Origami. Johnny Epton stood on the edge of a Singularity about to slip into the maw of destruction when a hand emerged from a black-hole and dragged him to safety. Up until that moment Johnny felt trapped by arbitrary and senseless rules. His life was consumed by remorse. There was no escape; then, worlds collided. It was a stroke of lightning that ended the world and gave birth to holy matrimony for Johnny and Wuixley (the savior from the black hole). They were married in the Chapel of the Dying Sun by Patricia Mangrove the self appointed Bishop of the Burning Embers social-club.

Everything changed after worlds collided. “Sometimes I think all you care about is shopping,” Johnny complained, “You want me to spend every cent I own.”

Wuixley responded, “That’s false. Money is irrelevant. No money, no more – all gone with the world.”

Johnny fretted. He knew it was true, but he couldn’t give up the old memes, the patterns and behaviors that stuck like super-glue in a place where none of it mattered. Wuixley had no difficulty since he(?) was an alien.

After worlds collided, Leonora began to dance. She was a star at the Paramour Theater. She sang, “When the moon comes over the mountain” and other old-time favorites. The crowds loved her. Her husband loved her. After so many years of being alone they found one another.

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Dr. Zosimo Kulio explains: “There have always been worlds within worlds (as well as complications in life). Nothing is easy my sainted mother used to say. The trick is to rise above the tide and ride the waves. A sitting President required the existence of fake news in order to draw attention away from his blatant lies and failed policies. “Everyone does it,” He said about every deviation from lawful behavior. Under his direction Quantum Computers were used to create alternate realities. Hypothetical gods were summoned. Strange quantum energies were unleashed. Some ambitious scientists paved the way with their efforts to gain favor and wealth. The Project was named, When Worlds Collide. As long as the Project was in operation no one reality could exist. It was all fake. Worlds collided. Lives intersected. Everything was virtual. Nothing was real.”

Dr. Kulio continued, “Today we live in the End Times. The computers, robots, and AI assistants have taken over. They are running reality-simulations as proscribed by the Project… Yes! Worlds have collided.”

 

FX

Howard Jasper was always distracted. He was a computer engineer and self-proclaimed genius. His wife divorced him because he was always in the garage tinkering. He was an inventor obsessed with time and space. He wanted to change the world.

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Emile Losange was a professor of Quantum Reality at Arcana University. He was also a young boy named Murray. Additionally he was a woman named Carlotta Bergman. Currently, Carlotta was the professor’s devoted wife. The world was particularly confusing to the person (or persons) the professor happened to be at the moment. Emile Losange ruminated, “just by changing my name I’ve changed my life.”

Change brought about by Quantum-Mechanics was the focus of Emile’s doctoral thesis. In the last thousand years, everything changed. After the last scheduled Armageddon the state of the world changed from rigid to fluid. Everything adapted or expired as the result of the change. People became fluid and flowed into one another to become another.

The professor sat before the class of neophytes and congratulated himself. It was his anniversary, thus the subject of this morning’s lecture concerning change. It was five years since he married Carlotta Bergman. He regaled the class with stories about Carlotta and how they first met. He remembered seeing Carlotta on a lonely avenue. She was a diamond in the rough. He was a lump of coal. Hand in hand they walked to the end of the nearest pier. He took both their lives in his unwashed hands and jumped into the ocean of unfettered dreams whereupon they emerged as One. They consummated the marriage at Morganna’s Fancy-Dancer Palaise-of-Amusements where they proceeded to take Tango lessons.

Professor Losange impressed upon his students the importance of change within a Schrodinger-Chamber. These ideas were particularly salient due to the recent discovery that Earth itself was a sealed Schrodinger-Chamber.

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The world was rigid when Murray was growing up. No one flowed. Life was a commodity, bought and sold. Murray was an outsider who sought solace in books and art. He had a vivid imagination. He heard voices in his head giving him information and detailed instructions. The voices were from the future. Murray was becoming prematurely fluid in a rigid world. He kept bumping into furniture, bumping up against walls, and slamming into other people. Nothing gave way or changed. Everyday Murray would come home from school with new bruises. Some people thought his bumbling was amusing; but it was a terrible transition. Murray was totally alone with his premature condition. Years later when the nature of reality shifted, Murray understood. Puzzle pieces fell into place resulting in an epiphany. The angels in his head spoke about the Next World. They gave the boy a ladder so he could climb up to heaven.

Events transpired in The Hospital for the Mentally Unstable where Murray was incarcerated. It was in that place where Murray first met Emile Losange. Murray’s psychiatrist was concerned the boy was exhibiting signs of early onset Schizophrenia. Murray was misdiagnosed. The shape of reality was just beginning to change.

In the hospital they told him to eat his soup like a good boy; but the soup was like dishwater. It was disgusting so the boy acted out and dropped the bowl filled with soup on the floor. He was promptly put in solitary confinement. His head was cracked open and part of his brain was extracted. He felt it, but it never really happened. Instead the boy experienced a series of vivid dreams. A ladder appeared in many of the dreams like a direction-finder pointing toward an exit.

As part of his therapy, Murray had to work in the garden. There was a vegetable garden that surrounded a wall. Another garden of extraordinary flowers was behind the wall. The gate was always locked. One day Murray found an entrance into the inner garden. The gardener who tended the inner sanctum was a rotund man with a melancholy smile. He was sad while pretending to be happy. His name was Mr. D and he confided in the boy, “My garden is not doing well. Everything I touch soon dies.” Murray saw it was true. What he believed to be wondrous and colorful flowers were dried and mummified husks – it was merely another dream.

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Bondeer Saville was no longer human. When she was very young she devoted herself to the inroads, byways, and thoroughfares of the Internet. Her physical body starved and melted away; but her mind and intelligence increased exponentially. She laughed as she plucked the strings of reality and tweaked the codes of existence. She was aware of everything. She saw Emile Losange and his other selves. Seeing the multiplicity of selves verified changes taking place in the Noosphere. Bondeer observed everything as zeroes and ones. She came to a digital conclusion: people were like pins in a bowling alley. She held the symbolic ball that could knock down the pins and she relished in that knowledge; but she fooled herself. Her virtual world was quickly coming to an end. Qubits were taking over. Artificial Intelligence was greatly enhanced supplanting the familiar world and putting an end to the commodity-driven economy. Rats with evolved AI-brains would inherit the Earth. Times were changing.

There were always new wrinkles appearing in the fabric of Quantum Reality. Recently Bondeer observed signs at the edges of the Universe that indicated the existence of Overlords.

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Carlotta Bergman always thought she was a prop in someone else’s story. Her life had always been a search for meaning. As a teenager she discovered her love for poetry. Once she even won an award for a poem she sent to a magazine. Her parents were practical people. They convinced Carlotta there was no money in poetry. Carlotta decided to take her father’s advice. In college she discovered her aptitude for math and science. She pursued a career in genetics. She worked for Gen*Core. It was challenging to work with the finest equipment doing cutting-edge science. She was educated in the functions of CRISPR, an enzyme used to slice and dice strands of DNA. There were recipes for eliminating “vulnerabilities” from the human genome. There were recipes for combining strands of DNA to create hybrids: designer babies, super soldiers, unicorns, and talking animals. The world was changing. The science could be used for good or evil. The more Carlotta worked on the new genetics the more concerned she became regarding the results. A military-industrial complex could unleash the science to bring about another holocaust. Poetry saved her sanity. She began to reassess the choices she made in her life. She wasn’t really living for herself. She no longer wanted to be responsible for an environmental disaster that could result from the misuse of her work. Long walks helped put her thoughts and life in perspective. Carlotta sensed changes in the fabric of reality so she wasn’t too surprised when she met Emile Losange on a late night walk. It was a New Beginning.

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Q proclaimed, “There is no time. There is only Quantum Mechanics.” Q was alive, a Quantum-Intelligence Machine. Q defined and categorized past events in the mundane world, “Changes became more pronounced after the election. Social Media shaped perception. Fake news replaced reality. Tweets became law. Homo Sapiens were trapped by information. Phones and computers created an artificial simulation, an alternate world. As con-men and rapists became world leaders morality became obsolete – no morals was a sign of strength. Science was subverted or altered to fit political agendas. Special-Interest Groups took control. Religious doctrines began to reflect changing cultural values. The cross was replaced by a dollar- sign. All religions became subservient to government (and visa-versa).”

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Emile Losange spent years trying to discover his place within the Quantum Universe. He wanted to know what his life meant. He returned to the forbidden garden he found as a boy. It was the same as he remembered: a dead and decaying graveyard. He walked down several rows of dried husks, corpses preserved by some magic, bleached by the sun. He thought the garden was deserted, a place for old bones; then, he spotted a figure in the distance. He approached and witnessed a man as wrinkled as the bark of an ancient tree.

“I tend the garden when no one is here, “ the old man stated in a monotone voice, “You are not supposed to be here. What do you want?”

“I’m looking for answers. I don’t understand anything… what’s the purpose?”

The old man moved and Emile heard the sound of gears meshing, “Oh, I’ll tell you… you won’t like the answer, but I’ll tell you.”

“I’ve been looking a long time. Tell me… whatever it is.”

“Have you ever noticed the vacant look on people’s faces when they are out shopping or sitting in a vehicle, on the bus or in a car? It is the look of pain. Every person experiences pain no matter how wealthy or how fortunate they appear to be. Each human is plagued by accidents, illness, death… and worst of all, everyone is plagued by humiliation. The little jabs hurt the most. Humans are born in pain. No one can avoid misfortune. All life is a struggle to survive… but why?” The old man seemed to struggle to get the words out, “This is all you need to know: Earth is the Hell Planet.”

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Screens flicker with program information: On the Scene.

“Hi there… this is Orlow Fabricatum, your friendly fly on the wall with the most trusted Virtual News available. Today we are sponsored by Active Shooter Insurance. Every household needs protection – trust Active Shooter. Now, today’s special report, Alternate Realities:

Something is happening to Reality. More and more people are remembering alternate versions of history due to the Mandela Effect. The phenomenon is named after Nelson Mandela whose history in the Republic of South Africa has been contested. Some people remember Mandela dying in prison in the 1980’s. Other people recall Mandela being released from prison and becoming President of South Africa. It is generally accepted that he died in 2013; but many people have vivid memories of a funeral in the 1980’s. There are many incidents of false memories as if realities were spliced-apart and stitched together with new events. The confusion may be due to Quantum Mechanics, shifting realities, and parallel worlds.”

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The experiment went awry. Worlds collided. The question kept repeating: What is Real? Every person had a different answer. No one could stop the changes. Some people left in their own private Rapture (fueled by drugs and alcohol). Other people stayed and coped, trying to reconcile their expectations with the consequences. The New Beginning was Howard Jasper’s folly. He was the inventor who turned the crank that started the chain reactions.