Pre-Matrix Dreams

Musing

I had a dream a few months ago that left me lying awake in the dark, in a cold sweat. I lay there waiting for the lingering trauma to subside; for my breathing to slow, and my heart to stop racing. I was worked up like I had been running for my life, fleeing some horrible, nameless foe. Slowly it disapated and I remained. Now calm, I can relate what I saw...

It was the future, or perhaps the world as perceived by a future me. Imagine that every object and every surface, animate or inanimate, were completely covered with streaming data. Information puring over everything, and filling the space between them. What I remember was that everything about everything was knowable. For example, the wall of my house is normally a plain, painted wall (well now it has some stenciling :) but you get the idea. In my dream it was filled with moving lines of text. They were streaming by, even going in different directions and overlapping. One line of text going by told me about the paint on the wall, the color, the chemical makeup, the thickness, the number of layers, the age of the paint, the brand, shelf-life, number of times mixed, number of brushstrokes, and on and on. And that was one line! There were countless others racing past simultanously. Some about the stone in the wall, some about people that had been near it. Some about the position and velocity of the individual molecules present in the wall. Information about the air molecules that had bombarded it. Data about the light wavelenghts reflected, refracted, and absorbed. There were stars that had been destroyed billions of years ago, gave off matter, formed planets, became lava, turned to rock, crushed to sand, and used in the mortar. The name of the fellow that laid the bricks. The name of the inventor of the brick. Historical references about bricks, etc.

When I say that there was streaming information content on every surface, I mean it. Every fiber of each rug, every fork in the kitchen drawer, they all had lines and lines of blue lettering conveying all that was knowable about the object. Nature, origin, history, relationships, events, etc. all there. Imagine it coming to you from everywhere.

It was so vast and so overwhelming my mind reeled. My heart raced to pump blood to my eyes and brain in an effort to keep up. I broke out in a sweat. The walls disappeared, the room flew apart. Replacing everything was this nothing of information. All of the lines of text and numbers still streaming by but now the objects had become unnecesary. I was looking directly at the structure and information and they had become the only substance of reality.

Then I stepped back. I gave up. I stopped trying to know it all and it swept past me. The letters began to blend into the background. I began to see shapes and colors. I no longer knew the details of everything in the room, but the things themsleves started to return. The walls came back. The chair reformed. The forks lay in their drawer. The world became solid again.

I woke from my dream. I lay still in the dark and watched as the last lines of blue text faded into the pale wall of our bedroom. Ali lay quietly beside me, sleeping peacefully as she had before the world disappeared. And I lay there wondering...

What had I seen?

Had I seen some IBM manufactured future where we all wear sunglasses that stream data to us about whatever we are looking at? Had I been shown the futility of the human mind's struggle to know the details of nature? Had I caught a glimpse of the workings behind the curtain of reality? A chance to see what the Universe's Chief Engineer works with? Or had I just learned that sharing a piece of cold pizza with Fritz before going to bed was a good way to ruin a night's sleep?



Guest Contributor: Fritz

I had a dream some months ago that left me panting. I had followed the usual routine that night, went out to my Master-Bath Garden area around 11:30 PM or so. I had just turned and bowed to the moon for evening prayer, when the human started making noise and I had to run inside to make sure he didn’t hurt himself. He was yapping about splitting a piece of pizza (which is a pretty stupid thing to do at bedtime but that’s humans for you). I mentioned one bark about it being too late and we should go to bed when he started dangling it above me out of reach. Damn impertinent. I snatched it to shut him up and respecting the blessing that is food, ate it. (A human would probably have hidden it in some giant cold box without any respect for the gift of life and sustenance).

I showed him how to go up the stairs again but I don’t think he’s really learning. He still walks on only two legs and can’t seem to go up the steps any faster than one or two at a time. Finally the humans were asleep and I could rest my head without worrying about what they would do to the house. Last week they tore up all of the carpeting while I was outside one afternoon. You just can’t trust them while they’re awake.

Then it happened. I fell asleep and in my dream the humans had become the masters and we had become they’re slaves! I had to rise in the morning when the human wanted to use the Garden Bathroom instead of their indoor one. Then I had to prepare their breakfast! Later we went out for a walk and I had to watch where we were going, look out for cars, clean up after they pooped, etc. It was awful. Then they sent me off to labor to earn money to buy them food and treats. I and all the other slaves sat on the road for hours “commuting” and we lacked the brains to solve the “congestion” problem. Meanwhile the humans had the house to themselves. They relaxed, played, ate and drank. It was horrifying.

Finally I awoke from the nightmare and realized it had been a dream. I was still panting but the horror was over and the humans were back to serving us. I don’t know if I saw what the future would look like if humans got smarter? Or what might happen if we outbreed them? Or perhaps I just learned not to eat pizza before putting the humans down for the night.



Poem

As I grapple with the shrapnel of an early morning wound
and wonder at the thunder of my life's impending doom

I writhe upon the scythe that is Death's favorite toy
and miss the youthful bliss that was with me as a boy

we gaze into the haze of the mist upon the ground
and fear the end is near for us soldiers gathered round

we tired, nearly expired, broken sons strewn about
all dread to be dead and prolong living with a shout

our blood was like a flood that abandoned its fleshy banks
while these bones like brittle stones were crushed beneath the treads of tanks

we can't remain and yet we stain the ground with our last fight
and we don't pretend or hope to end the rule of might makes right

we pray, that we may, return to you in some dream
but you won't hear, the dreadful fear, in our dying scream

now go and show that we died not in vain that you might freely live
while we're remembered as the dismembered who did their all finally give