Wu Li Ghosts Time Is Space - Chapter 13

Buried under 12 trillion gigabytes of evolution, the self remained hidden. Random mutations and natural selection had insulated the algorithms of "I am" protecting the central information that was vital for reprinting a newer, more adapted automated being.

Ever since the beginning, the whole purpose had been to consume and multiply. A sea of chemical interactions competing, yet cooperating, in a larger system, all in order to ensure the RNA and DNA information would survive and prosper. From the microscopic to the macroscopic, everything was subject to another. A complex web of interacting chemical responses that had built progressively larger organisms. The question is: where did it start and when did it stop? When and where did consciousness awake? Or, is it everywhere at all times? These questions would need to wait, however, for at this moment, the link to the light of life had been endangered, and the all powerful program that was specialized for survival had been called into action: Fear response.

Evolved Fear

The heart accelerates as adrenaline enters the bloodstream. When the heart accelerates, there is an increase of oxygen intake and an explosion of ATP production that augments energy escalation. All of this leads to time slowing down for the "self" to the point where it stops to exist. Here, among layers of generations, the narcissistic psyche floats in a field of timeless space. It watches as the chemical actions of its symbiotic being creates a likeness to artificial intelligence. This unconscious creature, the vehicle for the proliferation of organic code, is driven by the heuristic programming that evolutionary biology had encrypted deep within the inner workings of the beast. It had taken a billion years to create this illusion, and the "self" was not going to ruin it. Here, the "self" remains hidden in the shadows of eternity while all around it is a system that solely works toward continuity and where causality defines time.

The "Self" Hides In The Code

This place, a spatial construct of time, can only be described as a dream. That feeling of otherworldliness. That flicker within the fire that is between life and death. That moment hanging in the balance, like a piece of meat between the incisor teeth of destiny and the agile tongue of free choice.

It was here that Ha Pi began his long journey back to an inner sense of truth. He was watching his "self" watch his mind. He was in the dream that exists inside the protective shell of his fear response. He could see his arms rising and falling in unison with his heavy breathing. He wanted to reach out and touch something real, but his amygdala, which was in control, only allowed the processing of more energy. It was a hard wired response. A high level command emanating from the inner code that truly runs HaPi. The part of him that only wants survival. Time was crawling. It was almost at a standstill. Thoughts were useless. Fleeing was the only solution. Run or you will die.

HaPi In Limbo
“Makes you wonder doesn’t it”

A man looking like a cross between John Lennon and The Mad Hatter with an oddly lit candle on his head, had appeared. Even stranger, it seemed as if they were in a room. Not an ordinary room mind you, but one with a scent of heaven. The sort of room that you might find in a movie about God and his angels. There is no reason to explain it. It was just there. An adjoining space connected to the chase scene that Ha Pi was presently in. It was like a waiting room, a nice cozy white space between here and there.

John Lennon/Mad Hatter/Ghost Of Christmas Space-Time
“Who are you? The ghost of Christmas past?”

The man in the hat chortled slightly and dowsed the candle light.

“Ah, good one, Ebenezer.”

Ha Pi had a feeling that was like deja vu. It is that feeling brought on because of familiarity. A strange feeling one gets in a crowded subway or on a busy street from a furtive glance, a begrudging acknowledgement of intimacy. It was like a memory that was accompanied with the smell of old wet socks.

“Do I know you?”

Mr. Hatter pulled his hat down, so the shadow covered his eyes producing a little drama for the scene.

“Ha Pi, does anyone know anyone? I mean deep down. In fact, do we even know ourselves?”
Ha Pi Remembers

Ha Pi was sure now. He had heard this sort of rubbish ad nauseam from his parents and their friends, especially during the “Dancing Wu Li Masters” period. There was this one guy who was stoned to the gills every day, but somehow kept the appearance of being lucid, or, at least until you heard him talk. It was always about Gaia, and how the Earth is an organism. Then it would move onto Jungian cellular interconnected class consciousness and harmonic resonance. It was the worst sort of fucking new age crap! He would be bloviating about thought orgasms while chewing on seaweed and tofu. Then, he would declare that he was into vegan casual wear, psychonaut exploration and telepathy, but what he really wanted was to get into the pants of some young impressionable girls.

After you listened to this guy, you wanted to swear off hallucinogens. When you were peaking it all seemed to make sense until you sobered up and could hear him dry humping the dirty laundry. Then, all you wanted to do was set up an IV drip of Jack Daniels and crack.

“Now, Ha Pi…is that any way to greet an old friend? I always thought you liked Uncle Rupert!”
Uncle Rupert

Uncle Rupert, mad fucker for sure. An infinite verbal thread would spool out of his mouth: timewave theory, morphic resonance hypothesis, stoned ape theory of evolution, no constant for gravity, cellular memory, and time is a mirror. It was the fucking Bible of rambling stoned to the tits pseudoscientists, and he was always on about telepathy. Can he read my mind?

“That’s right Ha Pi…we are connected…always have been since you drank my urine when I became one with the universe.”

The bitter sweet taste of uric acid caused Ha Pi to gag.

"Right, I remember now. It was that night the group of psychonauts came over to my parents house and consumed amanita muscaria. At some point during that night, I drank your piss. It was something about you being a shaman and that you needed to take the most, if not all the mushrooms, and the other guests would drink your urine to get high. For some reason I grabbed one of the glasses and drank it. I must admit…that was fun, but you do realize I was in grade 2 then!”
Uncle Rupert Eggs

Uncle Rupert cracked open his head like an egg and spilled his thoughts onto the plate iron skillet floor.

“Never too early to wake up and see the real world…If you don’t have a plan, you become part of someone else’s plan.”

The room began to grow just as it had that day when he was in grade 2. Was this the sense of consciousness that the psychonauts used to talk about? The walls began to flow white cream stretching out on all sides. On the horizons, they rose like anti-gravity waterfalls narrowing into tongues of black. They licked the light from the roof and built a sense of soft charcoal, tender in its embrace. It was a wellspring of energy which, both quietly and suddenly, brought back the tunnel vision of him running down the street.

Ha Pi turned to his right and caught a glimpse of Binky in the storefront window. Binky was moving effortlessly, appearing to be gliding across the sidewalk on a hover board.

Why...Why Binky?
“Why…why Binky?”
“Listen, Ha Pi. There are many things that I haven’t been able to tell you. But, you have got to trust me. We can talk when I can find the space.”
"God..."

...thought Ha Pi...

"…now, Binky is starting to look like..."

...then, nothing, a black pool of potential energy vibrating in a rhythm that was coloured mystical. At that moment, he suddenly realized he couldn't remember when or where he met Binky. It was as if Binky had always been there, on the outskirts of his reality, a fringe element colouring the horizons from the outside in, bending the light back into the centre.

"Why…why Binky?"

Binky made a gesture like a bad mime pushing a box. It was meant to make Ha Pi stop.

Binky Says Stop
“It’s okay Ha Pi…you can stop running. We need to get into the RV”

Ha Pi remembered. An RV had come barreling down the road and slammed to an abrupt stop next to Ha Pi and Binky. First, the RV had smiled at him and winked it's light at him. Then, a brutish ape of a man bounded out and demanded Ha Pi and Binky get in. Disconcerting at any time, this scene of dread had been compounded by a chill warning that rang loud and clear: Events worse than death would ensue if he didn't run. It was a small but piercing drop of sweat that ran down his spine that finished him off. It cut like a scalpel blade and opened his spinal chord to a vision of pure horror. That was when he had bolted.

But now, Ha Pi was tired and for some odd reason he trusted Binky. So, he stopped running.

“Okay…Binky…okay”

Ha Pi stopped and the RV suddenly appeared. Out stepped Hugo Bones looking slightly amused.

“Geez, for an old stoned boozed wasted muckfuck, you can run. So, if you are finished with the exercising, let’s get in and go for a ride."

Ha Pi, resigning to his fate, followed Binky into the eerie light that swallowed the inside of the RV.

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scott tate
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