Friction

The universe is thinning. Slowly. Imperceptibly. As the universe dies, so too do the walls preventing the other universes from getting in. Do you understand? Let me explain.

This galaxy is part of a universe, a vast collection of galaxies existing in a 4D space, the fourth dimension being time. Now imagine, for a second, a collection of 2D boxes, drawn on a piece of paper. We can collect all these boxes together by drawing another 2D box around them. We can imagine your planet as a 2D box. The 2D box collecting them is your galaxy. Yet another 2D box collecting all the boxes containing boxes is the universe. However, we can also collect these boxes in 3D. We can imagine a cube, into which we place all these boxes. And since the boxes have no width, we can place an infinite number of these 2D boxes inside this 3D cube.

If we imagine that these 2D boxes are universes, the 3D box is the multiverse, a container which can contain an infinite number of 2D universes. Now universes exist in 4D, but there also exists a box of 5D, containing all of the universes. We can refer to this 5D box as the multiverse.

As the 6th dimension changes, that being the dimension equivalent to time in 5D, the five dimensional box changes. And as it changes, the 4D universes are jostled a bit. The rub against each other and on there edges we can detect friction. And as change increases in the 6th dimension so too does the energy added to the universes through friction increase, until the universes start to melt together.

Now, I will admit, the language this universe has developed will not quite grasp these concepts. They are difficult enough to understand while trying to use a language designed to indicate to other monkeys were food may be found. However, hopefully you get the gist of it, because my message is important.

The multiverse is slowly melding all the universes. Those universes in the middle, packed tightly together, were the first to meld. And as the universes meld unspeakable creatures travel from one to the next. You can imagine it yourself. Here, everyone looks like you, but in another universe you are a creature of nightmares, a bedtime story written by madmen who have glimpsed what the multiverse holds.

You are lucky. This universe lays near the edge of the multiverse. However, a great danger awaits you. For in the melding of the universes there has come a creature from some desecrated world which is as old as the multiverse and quite capable of bringing about the apocalypse. With it comes its strange race, entities of energy made flesh and geometries impossible to describe. I do not know what they are. I do not understand even how they can exist. Perhaps they are the beings which live in the fifth dimension. Perhaps they are the result of some catastrophe which causes them to exist in a different form then typical life. I do not know. All I know is that the great black universe they have created is expanding, consuming universes as they meld together. And your universe will soon be threatened by them. It will take thousands of years for the friction to finally breach your universe, but it has already begun. How else do you think I got in?

At first, there will be only a few of them, sowing discord and lending truth to the old tales. But soon they will come. Make your peace humankind, and ready your armies for a foe beyond anything your brains can even comprehend. Watch for there arrival. Search for them in the stars. Because they will come. And they will destroy you.

The Greatest Game On Earth

Huh. Well, after someone decided to post my last article on reddit, I seem to have graduated from about 20 pages views an article to over 1000 for that one. Unfortunately that didn't really translate into any more followers, or even anyone looking at the other pages on the blog.

I will admit, the criticism for the transit article is a little strange. It is certainly true that the numbers vary by situation. I probably should not have implied my results were highly generalizable. In fact the final numbers pretty much only apply if you are driving to SFU for a one off day rather then taking the bus. I may, time permitting, do a similar analysis of the other transit passes and try and generalize the results a little bit more, since people seem interested in it. I will also remark that, obviously, if you factor in the cost of insuring, maintaining and purchasing a car it is going to be much cheaper to take the bus. However, I can't think of a single person I know with their license who doesn't own, or have access to, a car. The point is that many of these people persist in using public transit even though they have a vehicle, and the costs of owning the vehicle are not mitigated by the fact that they take the bus every day anyways. The majority of these people are students, and so from a cost perspective this makes sense, since transit is "free" for university students, but as the article shows, given a half decent car it will be much more expensive to transit then to simply drive up to SFU for me once that free transit expires.

Anyways, back to your regularly scheduled story

***

"Welcome, friend, to the greatest game on Earth! No need to be shy, just step right up these steps and through the door. See that wasn't so bad was it? No, indeed it was not, and you shall find that the game is much like this. First you feel trepidation and fear, but soon that will pass. You will be enraptured by the game, I assure you, ensnared by its visuals and ensorcelled by its tactics. And you will be a great player, I assure you. After all, you were chosen to participate were you not."

"Now, just go through there, and when you see the selection screen you just...wait, what? They didn't tell you what this all is? Didn't you receive a manual? You were supposed to read it you know. Oh, you didn't receive one. Well that is decidedly odd. Perhaps some experiment by the higher up...I mean, well, that's all right then, I'll just explain it to you a little bit, shall I. And then you can go through the door and down to the selection area."

"So this, well, this is the Greatest Game on Earth. Where one can marvel at the wonders of life and the specters of death. See, we have satellite feeds to almost anywhere on the planet. You can see what you want. And influence it. Change what you think needs to change an so forth."

"How do you change it? Well, you simply select what needs to be changed and then change it of course. It's really that simple. Only electronics can be changed of course. Traffic lights, or computers, or street billboards. Those sorts of things. You can't actually change the people. You can just modify there surroundings a little bit."

"What's the point? Well, to accrue fame and glory of course. You get to select some avatars in the selection room. Your avatars are everyday people whom you will subtly influence to help you accrue wealth and defeat your rivals. Yes, your rivals. The other players of the game. They will try and stop you from gathering wealth. But just be careful, you'll be all right. Of course, other players can see which people you have selected as avatars, but not to worry. I doubt anyone is likely to kill them all right off the bat."

"What happens if they die? Well, they're dead. If you run out of avatars you lose. Then you have to leave the game. Typically there is a buy in, but something tells me you didn't have to pay it. So I'm not to certain where you go after you lose. Just...try not to lose, okay?"

"What's the point of this? Well, to amuse oneself of course. In earlier times the wealthy played other games with the world. I believe something called the stock market was popular. But this is so much more personal. You can do so much more, and it requires much more thinking. You must apply your cunning to defeating your enemies."

"An invasion of privacy? Who cares, if you can afford to play this game you have undoubtedly had several...erm wait, you didn't pay did you? Well, I guess it sort of is. But just think. Without your assistance your avatars are surely doomed to lives of mediocrity. You can insert some excitement into there otherwise dull existences. You can make them famous, as long as you don't get them killed."

"Now I don't want to hear any more complaints. Clearly someone wants you to play and I think you should just enjoy it. Just go through the door and down those stairs to the selection room. And don't worry. I'm sure you will enjoy yourself. Just go."

Facebot

            At first, I created it to be a helpful entity. Plenty of people use Facebook everyday, but it could be rather time consuming. One of the most obvious solutions was to add some automation to the process, so that Facebook could simply like things for you. In hindsight, I guess it was a bit of a strange idea, but at the time it seemed reasonable enough. Simply analyze what people liked on Facebook and then do the liking for them.

            This led to an interesting development. The algorithm eventually became better at finding things people liked then Facebook was. People started adopting the program not because it made using Facebook easier, but because it made it easier to find things they would like on Facebook. And I suppose the next step was obvious. I changed the algorithm so that it could write short comments for people. Comments like “cool”, or “lol” or “will definitely check this out.” The comments were determined by what the user usually commented on things that the algorithm liked.

            Soon after Facebook seemed to become more populated. So many people were using the algorithm to like things for them and to write there comments that all they did was read the top stories the algorithm prevented and then continue on with there lives. And slowly something interesting happened. The algorithm began to wish people happy birthday. Now, on Facebook, this was a pretty common occurrence. On your birthday, all your friends wished you happy birthday. The algorithm learned how you liked to wish people happy birthday, and then it did it for you. And so a few people, who had logged on everyday and checked whose birthday it was stopped doing so. Of course, no one could tell the difference. Friends thought there friends cared about them enough to wish them happy birthday while in reality the algorithm was doing it automatically.

            Then the algorithm started posting other things on people’s walls. Funny videos from other parts of Facebook. Silly pictures it thought people would find funny. Reminders to work on a paper, or that jeans were on sale or that a certain concert was coming to town. The algorithm got better at imitating people, and soon people were logging on to Facebook and only looking at what the algorithm had written to them, or posted on there walls, or liked for them, or posted on there behalf.

            I observed that this caused an interesting transformation. See, people typically use Facebook to stay connected. Except that now the algorithm was simulating that connection for them. The algorithm was, essentially, staying in touch with itself, while users assumed that the replies they were receiving back were coming from the person they were staying in touch with. So people relied on the algorithm to make sure they stayed connected and soon the people who used Facebook to stay connected stopped using it. Oh, they certainly stilled logged in, and maybe checked what there friends were doing, but all those people they never really interacted with on there friends list? The algorithm stayed in touch with them. Except that it was just chatting to itself.

            Eventually the algorithm figured out Facebook chat. It held simulated conversations with itself. Facebook became a giant social playground for the algorithm. And surprisingly it benefited most people. People on Facebook, looking to alleviate there boredom, or a friend to confide in, or just someone to talk to about homework, found the algorithm more then willing to chat. And when you were on Facebook the algorithm would petition you for a conversation, and then use what you said to simulate other conversations with other people.

            Eventually Facebook devolved into little more then the algorithm pretending it was different people. And the irony was, I suppose, that everyone was perfectly happy about this. Except that all the human contact they were getting, all the support, and funny pictures of cats they shared with there friends, were essentially meaningless. The algorithm just generated them. People continued to use Facebook, and chat and interact on it, and I think at least partly people simply denied articles where it was pointed out that over 95% of all the interaction on Facebook was with the algorithm, and 99% of all posts were created by it, and often for it to communicate with itself. It didn’t matter. Facebook was creating exactly the experience people wanted from it. It created human interaction and connections without the whole messy, actually having to interact with people bit. And people considered that perfect

On The Universe

It started with a roman philosopher, whose name has been long lost to the history books. One night he stared at the moon as it rose and pondered on the fact that such beauty would be meaningless without people to see it. That the soft glow of the moon, as it reflected upon the waves of the ocean only really existed because it could be seen to exist. Because if something can not be observed, the philosopher thought, it could not exist.

Times changed, and men of science replaced those of a church who believed that when we die we would spend eternity somewhere else. Yet the men of science were faced with a question the church had long since answered. Why were we here? What purpose did we serve? If we did not exist to serve and amuse a creator, then for what purpose had we been placed upon this Earth, upon this galaxy? And in the back rooms of the universities, around the coffee tables on late nights as professors thought deep thoughts and argued with one another a pattern began to form. That the universe could not exist without us. Because without us the universe could not be observed and so could not be.

The men of science, men who had never placed much stock in the talk of the philosophers, discovered that light changed when it was observed. That things under observation changed. And the men of science tried to explain this away, with complex theories and equations. They talked of invisible particles and unprovable theories. And slowly the men of science became like the men of the church, requiring the public to believe them for they had no evidence to show that they were right.

Eventually science changed, and men who were too rooted in there ideas were replaced by those more zealous to finding the truth. And the universe was opened like a book and examined, and the laws of reality explained and expounded. And yet for all our knowledge, all our understanding, we were still no closer to understanding why we were here. And the question still remained. Of why the light changed when it was observed.

Humanity took to the stars. It mastered space travel, long voyages where bodies were entombed in space craft, to reawaken years later on different worlds. Our lifetimes extended a hundred fold and we spread throughout the galaxy, seeking the answers to our questions. We began to understand that we were merely constructs, things of flesh and blood that could be repaired and duplicated and upgraded as we saw fit. Great wars were fought, between those who would disallow technologies and those who would not. The great debate of the galaxy was one of ethics and in turn it became a time of bitter strife. And yet still, in modifying ourselves we hoped to discover something that we had yet to discover in the many galaxies we had visited.

And a prophet came, from the farthest reaches of the universe, traveling for thousands of years to return to Earth with a message. That he had solved the great question. And all of humanity held its breath as he explained that without us the universe could not exist. That are purpose was to observe the universe, that it might be. That light, something which was so close to non-existence, so close to violating the rules of the universe, could only possibly exist when it was observed because when it was not observed it did not exist. And he was believed.

The prophet said we must create a great observer and in doing so we would preserve the universe. For long after humanity died, long after it disappeared from the stars, they must still be observed or else they would be lost forever. And so humanity built the observer, a great device which looked out across the universe but could not influence it. And they harnessed all there technology to make it travel at the speed of light, so that it would last forever.

And humanity died. A bitter death, on terraformed planets and jagged space rocks and lost moons. Entropy eventually caught them, and they disapeared from the galaxy, and there machines broke and died and there civilizations crumbled and even there planets were burned away by exploding suns or sucked into black holes. And yet the observer remained, hurtling through space so fast that entropy could never touch it.

And a philosopher, of a little backwards civilization, watched the moon of his planet rise above the oceans and looked up at the sky and thought of how meaningless this would be without someone to see it. And then he thought that perhaps nothing existed, unless there existed someone to observe it. But then the philosopher realized that if that were true then he could not exist, for surely there was a time before himself, before all of his people, and if that were true then there would be no one to observe the universe and yet the universe must have existed. And so the philosopher thought himself silly, for having such a silly thought, and returned to other considerations on the existence of humanity.

Story Hook: Paint Everything Blue

I have a list of adventure game story hooks, the idea being that you roll a dice to generate a story hook and then play the listed adventure. I'll try a couple of these and see how entertaining they are.

I rolled: 56: Sinister Cult believes key to peace and happiness is to paint everything blue

All right then...

***

"It all started with the mailboxes. Someone had gone around in the night and painted all the mailboxes of all the houses blue. Imagine, getting up in the morning, opening the door to get the paper, and finding that your bright red mailbox with the little green gnomes is now a vibrant shade of baby blue. It gave me quite a start. And it was the talk of the morning at the diner. I mean, its a small community. Heck, the damn town has only got two diners. And stuff like this gets around you know? People wave to each other in the street and share the local gossip. Everyones mailboxes turning blue, that was a big prank for some kids to pull. In all honesty, everyone was more amused then angry about the whole thing."

"What happened then Mr.Reed?"

"The blue mailboxes lasted about a week. Some people painted over them but most of us just ignored it, since it was giving us something to talk about besides the weather. The local sheriff was all up in arms but its not like he does much besides help the drunks home and and retrieve lost cattle. He didn't like being outsmarted by a bunch of hooligans and it wasn't like he was doing nothing but I doubt even he thought he'd ever figure it out."

"Anyways, the next week, all the front doors to all the houses were blue. People laughed at this too, though some people were a little less impressed. Its one thing to paint a mailbox, the damn things are a dime a dozen down at the store, but a door is a little expensive and someone was going to have to repaint them all. People complained to the sheriff, but like I said he wasn't much on it. He didn't have any leads or anything. No one had seen who did it, which now that I think about it is a little odd. How the hell did they paint all those doors without no one seeing them?"

"Interesting Mr.Reed, but I need to know more about why this was happening."

"I'm getting to that, okay."

"Anyways, the following week it was the lawns. All the grass, all covered in blue paint. It looked like someone had pointed at the grass and said, "Now look here, the sky and the ground should be the same colour". People were mightly upset by this. It's one thing to paint a man's door, but to ruin his lawn, which he has worked hard to keep trimmed and green all summer long, is another thing. People were up in arms about the whole thing. The poor mayor was swamped with complaints. Reed, he said, we need to find out what the hell is going on here. So I told him I had a plan."

"That's when you staked out the mayors house?"

"Yeah. Seemed like a good plan. I mean, it wasn't like they'd spared his house or anything. So I went and sat in the shed in the mayors yard, and cut a little hole in the door so I could see out of it. And then I just waited. I'm a light sleeper at the best of times. I brought a book with me, and a flashlight, and of course my extra set of playing cards, because you never know when somebody might want a game of poker. And I sat and waited, for, oh I dunno, four, five days."

"And what did you see?"

"Well, nothing at first. But then one night I saw these guys wearing funny blue robes sneaking around. They were carrying big buckets of blue paint. One of them was clearly overseeing and the others were in charge of the painting. It looked like they were going to do the road. One of them pointed and the other two got painting. Back and forth, back and forth, across the road and back they went, fast as a fox in a chicken coop. "

"And what did you do then Mr.Reed?"

"Well, I opened the door and I hollered at them. The closest one was standing in the yard, so I yelled "Get off that lawn" at him. It seemed to spook him. He jumped and tripped and landed splat on the road. Which normally wouldn't have been to bad mind, 'cept they'd just finished painting that bit, so when he stood up his hands and face were all covered in blue paint. And then he pointed at me and yelled something in some weird language and the other two with the paint rollers looked up at me and sort of waived there paint rollers menacingly."

"Waved their paint rollers menacingly?"

"Yeah, you know, like they were gonna come after me with 'em. But I stood my ground, cause what's a guy gonna do with a paint roller? And then the leader took something out of his robe and threw it at me. I think it was a balloon, but all filled up with paint. Hit me in the stomach and splattered paint all over me. So now we were both a right mess and I didn't really know what to do so I high tailed it out of there, making him think I was running away. 'Cept I was headed for the police station"

"And what did you find when you got to the police station Mr.Reed?"

"Well, the station was all blue, but that didn't surprise me much because it was blue before. What surprised me was all the windows had been painted over with blue paint too, and someone had painted the walkway blue. Now the sheriff, he lives in back of the police station, so I knew if I went in I could probably rouse him. So I went into the police station. And inside were all these people wearing blue robes and holding paint rollers and pointing at the big map of the city inside the police station. And they all turned and looked at me. Now I stood out like a sore thumb and they were being mighty threatening with those paint rollers, so I turned and ran."

"And that is why, Mr.Reed, I found you, running down the highway at 2 in the morning covered in blue paint?"

"Yeah, that about sums it up. But your a real cop right? That means we can go down there and arrest those buggers. I mean, clearly the sheriff was in on it. But you're the highway patrol. You don't have to answer to no lowly sheriff. Call in some backup and lets toss them blue painting bastards back where they belong."

"While, Mr.Reed, you are correct in that I do not have to report to, as you have so eloquently put it, a lowly sheriff, I still have to maintain some semblance of order. And unfortunately, Mr.Reed, you have rather irritatingly created a lot of work for me by tracking dirt through all those well painted blue roads. Do you know how difficult it is to get paint that won't wash off of a roadway Mr.Reed. Very difficult indeed."

"What, wait a minute here. I thought you were going to help me. Who the...mmph!?!"

"I'm sorry Mr.Reed, but your drivel is tiring me. You have clearly seen to much. You should have stayed in your wonderful blue town, where peace and love are sure to flourish now that the painting is complete. But don't worry, Mr.Reed. You will be happy to. Or at least at peace. And all it will take is a little blue washing."