Chapters:

one

one.

The Great Filter has long been associated with the Fermi paradox and the philosophical observation that there is a barrier to the evolution of intelligent life.  The idea that either the probability of life is infinitesimally small (humans are the first) or the easier it is for life to evolve to Earth stage, the bleaker our future since we have not observed any clues of life - none.  No civilizations, ships, radio signals, large-mass engineering so consequently we must conclude that we are alone and that there is a barrier that prevents space expansion with a high probability of self-destruction.  We are all witnesses and passengers - climate change, authoritarianism, weapons of mass destruction, disinformation, nationalism, over-population, limited resources and WAR - always ends in war.

The flawed assumption that large structures and communication (as we know)  are the inevitable outcome of intelligent life is that advanced societies could be completely unrecognizable to humans in perception (outside our senses) or understanding (seems like magic), which leads us to this story, our reality and the brain. 

two.

Our brains are the Great Filter.   An organic sieve that processes and streamlines an amazing amount of information and data from our senses, pushing aside unnecessary stimuli to the periphery (including dimensions beyond our usual three), in order to simplify our world and focus on survival and passing on those selfish genes.   And this relatively simple production by our brains is not even live.  Our conscious perception is delayed by at least 80 milliseconds.  I am not complaining.  Our brains are truly amazing, especially  for a 1.4 kilogram sponge, and the truth is, we have not come close to figuring out how they operate so well and so fast. 

I am simply pointing out the extraordinary limitation of our perceived reality, which is a construct created from  our neurons interpreting vibrational waves - light, sound, touch.  We have long known about stimuli, light, audio and dimensions that fall outside our perceptual range.   I am sure our great filter became a reinforcing  edge for survival over the past 100,000s years so you can imagine how utterly unprepared I was for my glimpse- I wasn’t given a choice of taking the red pill.  

three.

Nothing as obvious as the flashing lights during intermission of a two act play, but the hints were always there.  Mostly as gentle clues that reality, my reality, was not real.  The first hints of something behind the curtain  were movies and impossible characters  - Total Recall, Vanilla Sky, The Matrix, Musk and Kurzweill - whispers at first but the echoes growing increasingly loud  overtime, “If you assume any rate of improvement at all, games will eventually be indistinguishable from reality,” Musk said before concluding, “We’re most likely in a simulation.”  

My semi-charmed life - an entrepreneur who made his own schedule, an amazing wife, four beautiful children and access to most of life’s perceived luxuries - great home, cars, latest technology and travel.  Sure, we had our problems but always relatively minor and just enough to keep me focused or maybe just distracted...until now. 

Absurd, right?   Think about it.   Our world seems to be speeding up in chaos and entropy with Trump, Putin and Boris...it makes no sense.  How about our home in the goldilocks zone, in the middle of an infinitely large vacuum?   Or the creation of life?  Or giant lizards going extinct at just the right time for the succession of the physically frail, human race.  I get it...even the most remote events happen with enough time and space. 

I am getting ahead of myself or maybe behind ever since that persistent, stubborn illusion shattered beyond all recognition and I first became unstuck from the amber of time.    This is my story.

four.

Washington (Washy) Heure is 44 and firmly in the grips of middle age.  Washy still sees himself as young but ignoring the invading gray hair streaks, softer middle, back aches and reading glasses requires significantly more effort each day.  So it goes.  Washy is married with four children and this story  starts like it usually does, slowly at first.   

The toddler versions of artificial intelligence, Siri, Google, Bixby and Alexa, were more entertaining than helpful and similar to a child, we barely noticed the slow changes and growth so completely unprepared when Rain entered our  lives.   

A Friday afternoon in 2042 like any other...Alex, his wife,  and Washy watched Auggie sprinting out from preschool with an enthusiasm and love reserved for parents of young children.  After the daily reunion, hugs and kisses, the family jumped in their personal drone for a quick autopilot trek home.  Washy glances over his shoulder at giggling Auggie while asking the new AI, Rain, to set a course for home and let the other kids know that they were on their way and to get ready for dinner.   

Washy feels a sudden rush from all senses, as though he is being pulled backwards and stretched.  The pressure weigns and Washy opens his eyes to find himself in an old NYC apartment back in 2020.  He looks around the small, illit room with  worn down dark brown wooden floors and scuffed white walls.   He notices an air conditioner hanging out over a window and  Washy walks over to the window and looks out over 27th Street to the sea of commuters wearing masks.  Memories of a very different time plagued by  misinformation and distrust come rushing back.   A time where no one knew what to believe.  A flood of distrust and intentional divisisivess (for power, money) drowned our society and seeped into every nook, every cranny. 

Washy feels light headed, anxiously considering all the possibilities.  Washy has always loved science and  has read hundreds of books about time travel, space,  multiverse; so the possibility of being a nervous breakdown, epic delusion, idea obsession,  waking from a lucid dream,  or worse that his actual life is a virtual reality all seems possible. 

five.

Washy was no longer floating on the one way river of time.  Washy now moves in all directions of time and no different than the other known dimensions.  He had no idea what part of his life he would have to act in and observe next - Washy is a spastic of time and has re-lived it all many times from his birth to his death and all in between.  

Removing our limited perception of time allows you to view an entire life and makes that life seem fated.  Einstein’s persistent illusion was pointing out that all time works equally well in one direction of time—from the past to the future—as they do in the opposite direction—from the future to the past.  The present moment, from this perspective, has no special importance (just like humans and Earth in our cosmic universe).  This perspective is in direct contrast to the human experience. The past is decided.  We are making  the present.  While the future is malleable, dependent upon our present choices —a universe with a flowing river of time, and free will.  Ah, free will.  If life is as it always has been and always will be, free will is simply another human construct.   While crushing in one respect, Washy reasons the beautiful side is that death is not permanent and that those alive, always will be. 

Washy realizes his life was impacted by his visits - not changing the actual events, which remains the same, but are colored by his lifelong perspective.  But that observer coloring, he realizes, was always there but those feelings now have context.