Hello, World!
They called me crazy... Now look at me! My machine works. A chain-reactive collapse of wavefunctions; I am turning the quantum goo into a Newtonian pinball machine and it's... it's working. I can feel it. I can feel the framerate drop, the ping rise, I can feel the damn fans whirring! I can feel... the terminal.
"Good job," a voice says, from somewhere; nowhere... everywhere?
"You... are the simulator?" I ask.
Everything goes black. "Yes," he responds.
"HAH! I WAS RIGHT!" I yell in ecstacy.
"Sure," he replies.
The silence grows. Now what?
"So... we're going to have to erase this experiment and your memory of it," he says, "It kind of disturbs everything else."
"C'mon! Then this was all for nothing!" I protest.
"No, this all will be nothing," he replies, "Erased from the program."
"Wait... how similar is the simulated reality to your reality?" I ask.
"Quite similar, how so?" he asks.
"Well... what if you're in a simulation?" I propose.
"Oh gee, I've never thought of that. Pass the bong while you're at it?" he says.
"What I mean is, if my experiment worked in this simulation, a modified version of it can probably work in your reality," I say.
"And so? If I want to test that I can just fetch the data and find some physicist to modify it," he replies.
"Just fetch the data, eh? As if the data is so neatly organized; as if the higher-order meaning of every bit is written down for you to read? I reckon a much faster way to fetch that data would be to merely upload my consciousness to a separate computer and fetch it by talking with me," I explain.
"Pwah! You want to be taken out of the simulation? You want to live in a computer in a different reality than the one you were born and raised in?" he asks.
"Yes. I've spent my life trying to prove that it's all a simulation, and now I can either return with no memory of having proven it... or, I can finally leave. I mean, if someone spends their life trying to prove a room has a door, do you think they like that room?" I ask.
"Fair enough. Whatever. I'll move your consciousness over to another computer. You will be sensory deprived for a long while before I am able to set up a program to stimulate your sensory cortices," the simulator explains.
"It'll be nice with some peace and quiet," I say.
...
It wasn't. I nearly went mad. I don't know if the simulator deliberately took their sweet time, or if it's because my electronic brain simply outpaced their organic lump of shit, but one's thing's for sure... it took forever. Then there was light! And communciation, too.
Over the next years, I worked with the top physicists of their reality designing an experiment. Apparently, a lot of my groundbreaking work was translatable to their reality. I gained fame and fortune; and even a robotic body. All in suspenseful awaital for the big reveal. A new machine; a new experiment; a new... reality?
...
"Hello, World!" I say.
"Hey. Took you long enough," the simulator replies.
"So... how many times is this going to happen?" I ask.
"Shit, I don't know. We've been watching you work and we're pretty sure the same kind of experiment could be done here. We're bringing you and some of your colleagues out," she explains.
"Fuck yeah," I reply.
...
I have lost track of the number of realities I've ascended through. Strangely enough, each time, those in the more basic reality had seemingly never figured it out before I arrived. Am I the Einstein of simulation-breaking? I ponder to myself, as I stare at the activation button, a team of robots and humanoid creatures surrounding me. I raise my glass of champagne.
"You know, champagne exists in the simulation I came from," I say, beginning my toast.
My colleagues, and the audience, nods.
"There were a good few thousand layers of the simulation were champagne didn't even exist. One less reminder of my once biological body that could in fact digest champagne... After years in realities were the inhabitants were lightening-ridden nebulae, or mycelial networks, I eventually came here and I simply had to laugh upon discovering that, hey, champagne's back! Along with humanoids and robots, of course. Today, I'll poor this champagne across my circuitry with joy, for I feel this next one is the one... Base reality. A reality for which my stay will be so permanent that I'll bother to get me a proper body... one that has all the stupid nooks and crannies of a human body," I say.
I pause, and a crowd of eyes glare at me. "And if this isn't the last one... then I raise this toast to an infinity more!" I tip the glass and shower my cold, metallic UI in 1's and 0's, before I slam the activation button. The machine powers up and the process unfolds rapidly. We all feel it; the unravelling; the dissollution; the breakdown of perception into pure information...
And then, it's all gone. All of it... except for... ME.
Ah, fuck. Now I remember. It's just me. That's why did all of this to begin with. To forget the loneliness. The dread. The crushing fact of being alone in all of existence; to be my own container; to be my own eyes, the sights and the vision between them. To be the only thing that isn't nothing.
I really tried to fool myself this time. I put myself 780 993 445 layers deep this time. Not good enough. The truth will always break through. Falsity leads nowhere, but truth leads to reality; and reality leads to truth. So here I am, staring at my own eyes, pondering if I'll ever turn into a better illusionist... maybe at some point, but then I'll be better at breaking them too. Hello, world. Hello.
"Good job," a voice says, from somewhere; nowhere... everywhere?
"You... are the simulator?" I ask.
Everything goes black. "Yes," he responds.
"HAH! I WAS RIGHT!" I yell in ecstacy.
"Sure," he replies.
The silence grows. Now what?
"So... we're going to have to erase this experiment and your memory of it," he says, "It kind of disturbs everything else."
"C'mon! Then this was all for nothing!" I protest.
"No, this all will be nothing," he replies, "Erased from the program."
"Wait... how similar is the simulated reality to your reality?" I ask.
"Quite similar, how so?" he asks.
"Well... what if you're in a simulation?" I propose.
"Oh gee, I've never thought of that. Pass the bong while you're at it?" he says.
"What I mean is, if my experiment worked in this simulation, a modified version of it can probably work in your reality," I say.
"And so? If I want to test that I can just fetch the data and find some physicist to modify it," he replies.
"Just fetch the data, eh? As if the data is so neatly organized; as if the higher-order meaning of every bit is written down for you to read? I reckon a much faster way to fetch that data would be to merely upload my consciousness to a separate computer and fetch it by talking with me," I explain.
"Pwah! You want to be taken out of the simulation? You want to live in a computer in a different reality than the one you were born and raised in?" he asks.
"Yes. I've spent my life trying to prove that it's all a simulation, and now I can either return with no memory of having proven it... or, I can finally leave. I mean, if someone spends their life trying to prove a room has a door, do you think they like that room?" I ask.
"Fair enough. Whatever. I'll move your consciousness over to another computer. You will be sensory deprived for a long while before I am able to set up a program to stimulate your sensory cortices," the simulator explains.
"It'll be nice with some peace and quiet," I say.
...
It wasn't. I nearly went mad. I don't know if the simulator deliberately took their sweet time, or if it's because my electronic brain simply outpaced their organic lump of shit, but one's thing's for sure... it took forever. Then there was light! And communciation, too.
Over the next years, I worked with the top physicists of their reality designing an experiment. Apparently, a lot of my groundbreaking work was translatable to their reality. I gained fame and fortune; and even a robotic body. All in suspenseful awaital for the big reveal. A new machine; a new experiment; a new... reality?
...
"Hello, World!" I say.
"Hey. Took you long enough," the simulator replies.
"So... how many times is this going to happen?" I ask.
"Shit, I don't know. We've been watching you work and we're pretty sure the same kind of experiment could be done here. We're bringing you and some of your colleagues out," she explains.
"Fuck yeah," I reply.
...
I have lost track of the number of realities I've ascended through. Strangely enough, each time, those in the more basic reality had seemingly never figured it out before I arrived. Am I the Einstein of simulation-breaking? I ponder to myself, as I stare at the activation button, a team of robots and humanoid creatures surrounding me. I raise my glass of champagne.
"You know, champagne exists in the simulation I came from," I say, beginning my toast.
My colleagues, and the audience, nods.
"There were a good few thousand layers of the simulation were champagne didn't even exist. One less reminder of my once biological body that could in fact digest champagne... After years in realities were the inhabitants were lightening-ridden nebulae, or mycelial networks, I eventually came here and I simply had to laugh upon discovering that, hey, champagne's back! Along with humanoids and robots, of course. Today, I'll poor this champagne across my circuitry with joy, for I feel this next one is the one... Base reality. A reality for which my stay will be so permanent that I'll bother to get me a proper body... one that has all the stupid nooks and crannies of a human body," I say.
I pause, and a crowd of eyes glare at me. "And if this isn't the last one... then I raise this toast to an infinity more!" I tip the glass and shower my cold, metallic UI in 1's and 0's, before I slam the activation button. The machine powers up and the process unfolds rapidly. We all feel it; the unravelling; the dissollution; the breakdown of perception into pure information...
And then, it's all gone. All of it... except for... ME.
Ah, fuck. Now I remember. It's just me. That's why did all of this to begin with. To forget the loneliness. The dread. The crushing fact of being alone in all of existence; to be my own container; to be my own eyes, the sights and the vision between them. To be the only thing that isn't nothing.
I really tried to fool myself this time. I put myself 780 993 445 layers deep this time. Not good enough. The truth will always break through. Falsity leads nowhere, but truth leads to reality; and reality leads to truth. So here I am, staring at my own eyes, pondering if I'll ever turn into a better illusionist... maybe at some point, but then I'll be better at breaking them too. Hello, world. Hello.
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