Hello. I am a pioneer.
Please don’t judge me for what I don’t know. You see, we knew so little then, but we did the best we could with the little we did. Just starting out onto this new frontier of the mind and all, the way we were.
It may seem silly to you, but my grandparents looked on their grandchildren in wonderment at the idea that they, these two year olds, seemed to know, innately, the mechanisms of a rotary phone.
The same it was for my parents’ bafflement at grandchildren with their IPhones, IPads, IPods, though no one was using those much, as a single unit anyway, by the time my children were born.
Yes, it may seem silly to you that I can only understand that a shift is coming - indeed, is already here - and that it will entail a completely unfathomable as of now, and yet so logical in retrospect, quantum shift from perceiving time and space - same thing, Einstein says, I know that much - to being time and space, each creature together, yet onto himself.
I can only grasp in the dark at such notions, but I know you, dweller in the thousand years of peace, as my distant relative and yet unrecognizable humanoid, have been blessed with the spiraling surplus of knowledge in such a way that my own humble graspings are as fundamental and retrospectively apparent as Galileo’s realizations.
But there is something we have in common, you and I, besides a mutual knowledge that the only things America was / will be remembered for are the atom bomb and state park preservation: you and I, we are both, in the grand tradition of our ancestors, within whom the spiraling helixes still turn on the flat, micro plane of recycled time, we are all, in our own exponentially contributing rights, pioneers.
Hello, my future DNA. And again, sorry for how bonobo-at-a-water-pump-evolutionary I must appear. I am doing the best I can, with the collective knowledge I’ve been given, thusfar. The oak that created the small thrift store desk I’m writing to you from now, probably was grandfathered by a tree that grew in the Dark Ages. We are so young, hovering here in the Mayan end of days, so young and yet so bloated with the foolishness of ego.
Yes, probably approximately five lifetimes / five months for you in a virtual reality hub if that’s how you choose to spend your time - and who wouldn’t? From here, that’s as distant a time ago as the discovery that Mars does have pyramids, will probably take.
So here I am, projecting this sheepish, humble hello to you, in the attempt to explain our conduct and maybe, even maybe, to get a response back.
I’m dying to know what it’s like out there in the future, after all this shit goes down, down, down.
And hey, please bring me forward for a visit, if you guys have that time-space manipulation thing down by the time you get this.
And if you can project a covered wagon hologram while you’re at it, why not, let’s have some fun with this, bring some humor into it.
I mean, there’s definitely humor in the future, right?
It’s one of the funniest - yep - things about this whole creation mystery, I think: the realization that this contracting, expanding, beating heart of a universal hologram we’re all floating in, here, incorporated a sense of humor into the whole equation.
If the universe is a cheek, we’re the tongue sticking in it, that’s for sure.
