“In March 2010, the first planned collisions took place between two 3.5 TeV beams, which set a new world record for the highest-energy man-made particle collisions. They did indeed find the so-called God particle.”
“You mean…”
“As it turns out, it was right in front of them (us) all the time. But in light of everything we know now, that makes perfect sense, doesn’t it?”
“So you’re saying we now know how to create life?”
“Not me. And not anyone in FL, I suspect. The knowledge was gained in PL, and then lost almost as soon as it became known. Ironic, don’t you think? But we are the beneficiaries. We ‘live’ here in FL. We are no longer organic, so we no longer must depend on PL. We still can’t experience sensuality—that is the price of our loss, and of our continuance. And like it was in VL, we still can’t procreate. But we are
alive
!”
“But I don’t really feel alive,” I tell him. “Not fully alive…”
“Something we’ll all have to work on,” Filo concludes. “But look on the bright side, Fizzy. We are the lucky twelve million who survived the end of the world as we knew it!”
I guess he’s right about that. But I sure wish I had a little help here. Does anybody know where I can find an FL greeter?
Visiting the old REPS is pretty depressing because, invariably, nobody’s there. It’s sort of like going back to a city you once knew and loved, except while you were away a neutron bomb went off leaving all the structures in perfect condition but vaporizing all the people.
Nevertheless, I decide to pay one more visit to Kiz’s Hopiland REP, her recreation of Third Mesa in northern Arizona where the Hopi lived and waited for the end of the Fourth World and the beginning of the Fifth World. How prophetic were they? They not only saw it coming down in the present tense, but knew about it centuries ago. The Great White god had finally returned, bringing with him the missing part of their sacred tablet, and as a race they were certainly ready for what came next. That Frank Waters had turned out to be the one for whom the Hopi were waiting was ironic, to say the least. That Kizmet Aurora (aka Cassandra Stephens) had chosen to go down into that hole in the ground with them defied all reason—at least my sense of reason. Where she ended up is anybody’s guess.
All that aside, I really like it here in Hopiland. Though it is silent now, the vista is expansive. Cylindrical red rocks stand like sentries against time itself. If I squint, I can almost see the Spanish soldiers marching on the settlement; I can see the ceremonial dances held each summer to welcome the kachinas back from their six-month sojourn at the San Francisco Peaks; and I can see the Hopi Elders convened in the kiva, divining the future and planning their escape into the Fifth World. Somehow Kiz had managed to include something of each dimension here: NL, PL, VL, FL (where I’m standing), and something else as well… Could it be that I sense something of the so-called Fifth World? Who knows? I may never know.
As I prepare to transfer away from the REP (where I might be going next I have no idea), I feel compelled to turn my attention to the kiva where thousands of Indians, as well as Kizmet and Frank Waters too, had disappeared during the VL ceremony just prior to the big meltdown in PL. Am I simply waxing nostalgic, or do I actually sense activity in the kiva? I move from my perch atop one of the pueblos to take a closer look. Then I hear it: chanting! Without warning, the first of the Hopi emerges from the
sipapu
, then another, and another, and still another. As each emerges, he kneels down upon the ground and offers his thanks. For he knows he has now emerged into the Fifth World. It is a new existence, a new life.
One by one, the Indians climb from the bowels of the earth into a promised world. At the center of the plaza they gather to wait for their brethren. I continue to watch the reunion, unnoticed. Finally, when all seven thousand members of the ancient tribe are gathered in the plaza, the final two pilgrims emerge from the womb: Frank Waters and Kizmet Aurora.
For the first time since I entered FL, I am overwhelmed with joy, because not only will I be reunited with my dear friend Kizmet, but I now know that another reunion is imminent—one with Crystal Marbella, my friend, collaborator, confidant and soul mate. I know I must return immediately to Open Books, because that is where I will find her.
On first glance of the OB shop I know that my instinct was correct. The lights have been turned on and I can see Crystal inside the shop working away as if nothing had gone wrong, as if nothing at all had happened. As I walk in through the open doorway, no words are necessary—only hugs and kisses. Lots of hugs and lots of kisses! There’s no point in recounting what happened in PL. It was bad; what else needs be said? And we both know that, strictly speaking, we are no longer in VL. This is Future Life, a new world with new rules—and a few of the old ones too! Somehow we have both managed to survive.
“I missed you so much,” I tell her as we embrace. I start to weep, and Crystal weeps too.
“I know,” she says. “I would have been here sooner, but I lost my way.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “You’re here now.”
“Yes, we’re both here now. And I guess here and now is all there really is anyhow.”
“So, what are we supposed to do?” I ask Crystal.
“I suppose we resume exactly where we left off,” she says. “We move fearlessly into the future, with all our doubts, and our insecurities, and our misperceptions, and our neuroses, and our ignorance.”
“Don’t forget our passions!” I add.
“Those too,” she confirms.
“Yes, we must try,” I agree. “We must try to become better people, to show greater sympathy for our fellow (human) beings. We must evolve (though I think a Higher Power already has that one all worked out for us). And we must have faith, not only in ourselves, but in our world(s). We must be willing to embrace new realities, and even new universes, because I suspect a new one is born every single day, if not moment-to-moment. Yes, wherever we find ourselves, we have to keep trying. Really, what else is there to do?”
“I think you’ve got it, Fizzy,” says Crystal as she begins to sweep the detritus of two former worlds out of the Open Books shop. “Got any ideas for our next project?”
“Only one,” I tell her.
“What’s that?” she asks with a knowing smile.
“We’ve got to get started documenting VL,” I say. “Because you just never know what might come next.”
“Right you are!” Crystal proclaims. “We’ll get on it first thing tomorrow.”
And we both laugh at her ever-so-slight procrastination, because we know that time is on our side, and that today (and everyday) is ours.
So, my dear friends, that’s about it. Thanks for listening to my story, and I’ll see you all in ML—Meta Life. (Don’t worry, it’s not an insurance company; I promise.)
Until then,
Love to All,
Fizzy Oceans (lol)
In Chapter 4, profile of Burning Man
®
derived from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Burning_Man.
In Chapter 6, profile, history and quotes from Mark Twain derived from http://www.twainquotes.com/quotesatoz.html and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mark_Twain.
In Chapter 7, profile and history of Dion Fortune (Violet Mary Firth) derived from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dion_Fortune, http://www.innerlight.org.uk/dion/DionFort.html, http://www.themystica.com/mystica/articles/f/fortune_dion.html and http://www.answers.com/topic/dion-fortune as well as from the books
Spiritualism and Occultism
by Dion Fortune,
Psychic Self-Help
by Dion Fortune and
The Mystical Qabala
by Dion Fortune.
In Chapter 8, history and observations concerning the Cateret Islands derived from http://transcripts.cnn.com/TRANSCRIPTS/0912/20/se.01.html. Profile and history of Bibliotheca Alexandria derived from http://www.helleniccomserve.com/revivalofbibliotheca.html. Profile and history of Ancient Babylon derived from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hanging_Gardens_of_Babylon, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Babylon, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Code_of_Hammurabi and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Babylonian_law. History of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World quoted and derived from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_Wonders_of_the_Ancient_World. Profile and history of Saddam Hussein quoted from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saddam_Hussein.
In Chapter 9, profile of Jacques Ives Cousteau derived from
The Human, the Orchid, and the Octopus: Exploring and Conserving Our Natural World
by Jacques Cousteau and Susan Schiefelbein, Bloomsbury USA (October 30, 2007).
In Chapter 10, the comments of C. Ray Nagin, Mayor of New Orleans, quoted from “
When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts”
: A Film in Four Acts by Spike Lee, HBO Productions, 2006
In Chapter 11, Matthew Taylor’s comments extracted from “Parting Today’s Red Sea: Integrative Power, Transformation, and Compassion in the Israeli/Palestinian Conflict” by Matthew Taylor, used with permission from the author.
David A. Ross was born January 6, 1953 in Chicago, Illinois, where he attended public schools through the twelfth grade, graduating high school in 1971. He then attended William Rainy Harper College for three semesters before dropping out. After being excused from military service on a physical deferment, he moved to a remote area of northern Idaho, where he lived a subsistence lifestyle in a rustic log cabin without plumbing or electricity for more than a year. Returning to Chicago, he worked for Follett Publishers for a short time before relocating to Denver, Colorado. There he taught music for twenty-five years, wrote three unpublished novels, and worked as an associate editor for
Southwest Art Magazine
before moving first to Arizona then to New Mexico.
From 1987 through 2000, he engaged in a series of twelve extended trips to Europe, as well as several to the South Pacific. In 2001, he relocated permanently to Greece where he currently lives with his wife, author Kelly Huddleston, and works as an author, editor and Internet developer.
The Virtual Life of Fizzy Oceans
is his sixth published novel. Also to his credit is
Sacrifice and the Sweet Life
, a collection of short stories and poetry, and
Good Morning Corfu: Living Abroad Against All Odds
, a memoir.
With a cast of eccentrics that rivals “The Royal Tenenbaums”,
Alone in the Company of Others
is about people and their treasured possessions—a running tape recorder, a collection of diplomas, an attic full of disfigured mannequins, or shelves and shelves of books in an all but abandoned public library—and the distinctive role that each of us plays as part of a group dynamic. The book questions where each of us essentially exists—within the singular, the plural, or both.
Stalking academia, re-ordering double prints and rewriting the autobiography of Buster Keaton, Clinton's hapless and sophomoric intellectual narrator offers his poignant and very, very funny insights on modern-day culture in a series of slapstick misadventures.
Fast, furious, unforgettable and set against the backdrop of a crumbling civilization,
Night Train
follows arch-outsider Jerzy Mulvaney in an audacious account of what it means to be homeless on the streets of Los Angeles.
In honor of the 40th Anniversary of Earth Day, environmental attorney Keith Ainsworth focuses our attention on the day's most critical environmental issues, addressing them in contemporary verse as well as poignant prose.