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Yeats

Member
Messages
239
“Let us imagine that our present existence consists of nothing more than a simulation being run by others. If this can be granted, then time travel (or, more accurately, alternate universe travel via the U network) is nothing more than the transfer of the data packet that we call “consciousness” to a different point in the simulation, or to a different simulation.” -- Taobot, June 1, 2001

Twenty years ago.

Time (if that’s what it is) flies.
 

Yeats

Member
Messages
239
"However, while we observe that there is certainly transposition of consciousness taking place across some nodes, the mechanics of how this switching occurs has yet to be fully understood and cannot (as yet) be accurately predicted.” – Taobot. June 21, 2001

Twenty years.


Wish I could get there from here.

Tictoc, my old friends. Tictoc.
 

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Yeats

Member
Messages
239
"However, the subject's psychological makeup also ensures that any alternate encountered cannot be vastly different from that in which the subject is accustomed. Any changes may perhaps be much too subtle to detect." -- Maya, August 13, 2001

 

Yeats

Member
Messages
239
"Know what you are doing while you are in the act of doing it. If you can manage to do that, then you can occasionally get a glimpse of what is behind the curtain." -- 45earp. August 16, 2001

You're probably really gone by now, aren't you, you cranky old son of a bitch? You were even older then than I am now, so I suppose so.

It was because of you that traveller eventually chose his avatar.

1 -Traveller Avatar.jpg

Arrogance.
 
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Yeats

Member
Messages
239
"We are quantum ghost-children -- playing and being played." -- 45 Earp. August 20, 2001

 

Yeats

Member
Messages
239
I know why they are gone. It was my ego nature -- my desire to be some kind of discoverer, or inventor, or leader, or guru -- to be the CENTER OF THINGS.

An impossible and absurd desire to be sure, yet one which all of us -- to a lesser or a greater degree -- have in common.

I thought that I had rid myself of this all-too-human part of myself, or at least that I could keep it under control. I could not. Who can?

I wonder if they wonder about me?

-- Journal entry. September 17, 2001


 


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