Seeing Everything
Winter was coming. That evening I rode my bike home. A cool breeze passed and it reminded me of fall and fall reminds me of winter. That was why I was so glad to hear from Steven. He had invited me out to the country. I live in Pittsburgh and I call myself a student even though the vast majority of my time is spent riding my bicycle trough the country, or fooling around with Steven. I packed a few sandwiches and set out for Elizabeth, a small town, just a few miles out of city limits.
Steve lives in a trailer parked illegally on a back road near the top of the hill. From his little plastic window you can see the whole valley, with the river sliding slow as an iceberg off the distance.
When I got to the trailer Steve was standing outside with his hands shoved into his pockets and an odd intellectual pucker on his face. He caught sight of me and his face broke into a huge grin. I immediately knew he was up to something.
"Today" he said "we shall destroy all popular notions about the nature of reality."
"Really?" I said. The grin dropped from his face and he began to walk. Without a word I followed him. Soon we were on a narrow two lane road that lead out of town. When we passed Lock No.3 He stopped suddenly.
"There was a flood last week. It destroyed buildings, it even flooded the computer center . . . there." He pointed to a building with a collapsed roof just below the shoulder of the road. "The Army Corpse of Engineers built the center down by the river to save money. They already had rights to the land because of the lock. . . ."
" . . .so?"
"So, that's where we're going."
He climbed over the rail by the road and went sliding down the steep gravel hillside on his heels.
We entered the computer center through a broken back window and found ourselves in the mens lavatory surrounded by, cracked tiles and mirrors. Everything smelled of flood damage. In the main office, I saw why Steve had come. There were at least twenty computers. All of them broken, but, when he opened them it was clear that some of the parts were still good. He removed, circuits boards, external microphones, colored wires, glass filaments, LEDs, LCDs, dials, CD rom drives, knobs, switches. . .
"Steve?"
"hmm . . ." he glanced around the room obviously frustrated; unable to find something.
"What does this have to do with 'testing the bounds of reality' ?"
"Oh . . . you'll see. Look for a blue wire with brass tips, will you? It'd still be wrapped in plastic." I searched. Suddenly Steve emerged from beneath a table.
"Found it! Okay let's go."
We walked back to the trailer. After awhile Steve began to talk.
"In the human eye there are a finite number of rods and cones; only so many receptor points for light, right?"
"yes . . ."
"And the rods and cones can only distinguish between a finite number of colors . . . in other words there�s a point when orange number 6748 become indistinguishable from orange number 6749. . ."
"yes . . ."
"So that means that there only a finite number of images we can perceive."
"Wait-"
"Think about it."
I did. But, it still seemed impossible. I stared ahead of me at the road and the late summer foliage. I stared at the way the clouds were strewn across the sky. Weren't there infinite possibilities, infinite skies and trees and ways of seeing things?
"It's not that the world isn't infinite, it's that our perception is. We can't see the details that make infinities"
We had reached the trailer. Before Steve opened the door he turned to me.
"Do you remember the experiments they did in California, about transferring electrical signals directly to the brain to create the illusion of sight for the blind?" He began to whisper with great urgency. "I've created a machine that releases all of the possible electrical impulses, in order. That's why I called you here, I need a volunteer to try it out, I can't turn it on and hook it up to my self at the same time. . . The images it gives you are . . . three-dimensional and they cause a terrible vertigo. So, before I show it to you, tell me, will you do it?"
"do what?"
"see everything."
He opened the door to the trailer. It was clear that he had been busy for the past few weeks. The walls were lined with electronics. The window was blocked, by a computer screen. He dumped his finds on to a table, fished out the blue wire and set to work.
"have a seat." I did.
And the next thing I knew he was coming at me with a syringe. I slept.
When I woke. I found I couldn't open my eyes . . . no I could open them, but, there was nothing to see. All of the lights were out. I could here Steve rattling around inside of the trailer.
"What�s going on" I cried out.
"Can you see anything?"
"no. it�s dark"
"goooood"
Slowly I lifted my hands to my face. As I touched my head I felt two odd bumps on my cheek bones just in front of my ears.
"what did you do!"
"I�ve fitted you with a sight device, like the ones they used on the blind in California."
"Oh"
I had a lump in my stomach. Steve had always seemed rather strange to me, that was one of the reasons I enjoyed his company so much, but he had gone too far.
"Okay now for a test" I heard a whirring noise. In front of me was a beautiful country landscape, only it was upside down, there was nothing computerized about it, it was peaceful and pastoral.
"What do you see?"
"A landscape . . . up side down."
"Oh . . . hold on" The landscape blinked and turned right side up.
"Better?"
"yeah. Steve, this is wonderful! Just think of how this will help the blind!"
"That's not what I made it for, these are test programs. Now I'm going to- run the real one . . . "
The landscape disappeared and I felt a sharp prick on my arm.
"what are you doing!"
"Putting you on an IV to keep the blood sugar up, you might be here for a few days . . ."
"But why can�t I just . . .eat?"
"The vertigo . . . I mentioned that didn't I?"
I wanted to struggle but I felt as if the electrodes might pull my insides out. They seemed to be tied to my brain itself. I shuddered. I remained calm.
"You ready?"
Swallow. "yeah"
Nothing happened.
"Steve, nothing's happening!"
"Be patient"
Then I noticed that something was happening, in front of me little speckles of white were fizzling around in the black. Every second there seemed to be more. They were following a pattern and changing more and more rapidly. Sometimes they�d make a familiar shape but most of the time they just moved around. Then, there were enough white dots that I began to see familiar objects: faces of people some of whom I knew, landscapes, chairs, dogs, yo-yos, random stuff.
I started to miss many of the images because they were moving so fast Only the familiar stood out to me: my mother washing dishes my best friend from childhood. Soon it was black dots on white and then gray dots on white, then gray dots with black dots on white, then another shade of gray. Colors began to enter in. I was mesmerized by what seemed to be mostly flashing between one color and the next but some where in between were the countless images.A few would stay with me. I heard something. It was Steve.
"you all right?"
"yea I managed" I couldn't move. "how long have I been here?"
"you're taking awful slow." I didn't feel like I was talking slow. I tried to tell Steve this, but he spoke first "you've been here about three days. you've lost some weight. your mom wants to see you . . . if you like I can end the program . . ."
It seemed like such a ridiculous suggestion. End all this! Go back to the slow moving world of simple skies, skies that I had already seen! I could see anything I wanted . . . to see I just had to look for it. My mother? I could see her . . . and at that instant she flashed by.
"no . . ." I sad "no, let me finish."
"all right" I felt him touch my arm.
I fell away, back, into the images. All I could think about was what a wonderful friend Steve was. I looked for him. He flashed by as does everything inevitably. Though the only images I could find were ones that had him crying or looking out of the tiny plastic trailer window at the crystal stagnant scenery of winter.
Steve lives in a trailer parked illegally on a back road near the top of the hill. From his little plastic window you can see the whole valley, with the river sliding slow as an iceberg off the distance.
When I got to the trailer Steve was standing outside with his hands shoved into his pockets and an odd intellectual pucker on his face. He caught sight of me and his face broke into a huge grin. I immediately knew he was up to something.
"Today" he said "we shall destroy all popular notions about the nature of reality."
"Really?" I said. The grin dropped from his face and he began to walk. Without a word I followed him. Soon we were on a narrow two lane road that lead out of town. When we passed Lock No.3 He stopped suddenly.
"There was a flood last week. It destroyed buildings, it even flooded the computer center . . . there." He pointed to a building with a collapsed roof just below the shoulder of the road. "The Army Corpse of Engineers built the center down by the river to save money. They already had rights to the land because of the lock. . . ."
" . . .so?"
"So, that's where we're going."
He climbed over the rail by the road and went sliding down the steep gravel hillside on his heels.
We entered the computer center through a broken back window and found ourselves in the mens lavatory surrounded by, cracked tiles and mirrors. Everything smelled of flood damage. In the main office, I saw why Steve had come. There were at least twenty computers. All of them broken, but, when he opened them it was clear that some of the parts were still good. He removed, circuits boards, external microphones, colored wires, glass filaments, LEDs, LCDs, dials, CD rom drives, knobs, switches. . .
"Steve?"
"hmm . . ." he glanced around the room obviously frustrated; unable to find something.
"What does this have to do with 'testing the bounds of reality' ?"
"Oh . . . you'll see. Look for a blue wire with brass tips, will you? It'd still be wrapped in plastic." I searched. Suddenly Steve emerged from beneath a table.
"Found it! Okay let's go."
We walked back to the trailer. After awhile Steve began to talk.
"In the human eye there are a finite number of rods and cones; only so many receptor points for light, right?"
"yes . . ."
"And the rods and cones can only distinguish between a finite number of colors . . . in other words there�s a point when orange number 6748 become indistinguishable from orange number 6749. . ."
"yes . . ."
"So that means that there only a finite number of images we can perceive."
"Wait-"
"Think about it."
I did. But, it still seemed impossible. I stared ahead of me at the road and the late summer foliage. I stared at the way the clouds were strewn across the sky. Weren't there infinite possibilities, infinite skies and trees and ways of seeing things?
"It's not that the world isn't infinite, it's that our perception is. We can't see the details that make infinities"
We had reached the trailer. Before Steve opened the door he turned to me.
"Do you remember the experiments they did in California, about transferring electrical signals directly to the brain to create the illusion of sight for the blind?" He began to whisper with great urgency. "I've created a machine that releases all of the possible electrical impulses, in order. That's why I called you here, I need a volunteer to try it out, I can't turn it on and hook it up to my self at the same time. . . The images it gives you are . . . three-dimensional and they cause a terrible vertigo. So, before I show it to you, tell me, will you do it?"
"do what?"
"see everything."
He opened the door to the trailer. It was clear that he had been busy for the past few weeks. The walls were lined with electronics. The window was blocked, by a computer screen. He dumped his finds on to a table, fished out the blue wire and set to work.
"have a seat." I did.
And the next thing I knew he was coming at me with a syringe. I slept.
When I woke. I found I couldn't open my eyes . . . no I could open them, but, there was nothing to see. All of the lights were out. I could here Steve rattling around inside of the trailer.
"What�s going on" I cried out.
"Can you see anything?"
"no. it�s dark"
"goooood"
Slowly I lifted my hands to my face. As I touched my head I felt two odd bumps on my cheek bones just in front of my ears.
"what did you do!"
"I�ve fitted you with a sight device, like the ones they used on the blind in California."
"Oh"
I had a lump in my stomach. Steve had always seemed rather strange to me, that was one of the reasons I enjoyed his company so much, but he had gone too far.
"Okay now for a test" I heard a whirring noise. In front of me was a beautiful country landscape, only it was upside down, there was nothing computerized about it, it was peaceful and pastoral.
"What do you see?"
"A landscape . . . up side down."
"Oh . . . hold on" The landscape blinked and turned right side up.
"Better?"
"yeah. Steve, this is wonderful! Just think of how this will help the blind!"
"That's not what I made it for, these are test programs. Now I'm going to- run the real one . . . "
The landscape disappeared and I felt a sharp prick on my arm.
"what are you doing!"
"Putting you on an IV to keep the blood sugar up, you might be here for a few days . . ."
"But why can�t I just . . .eat?"
"The vertigo . . . I mentioned that didn't I?"
I wanted to struggle but I felt as if the electrodes might pull my insides out. They seemed to be tied to my brain itself. I shuddered. I remained calm.
"You ready?"
Swallow. "yeah"
Nothing happened.
"Steve, nothing's happening!"
"Be patient"
Then I noticed that something was happening, in front of me little speckles of white were fizzling around in the black. Every second there seemed to be more. They were following a pattern and changing more and more rapidly. Sometimes they�d make a familiar shape but most of the time they just moved around. Then, there were enough white dots that I began to see familiar objects: faces of people some of whom I knew, landscapes, chairs, dogs, yo-yos, random stuff.
I started to miss many of the images because they were moving so fast Only the familiar stood out to me: my mother washing dishes my best friend from childhood. Soon it was black dots on white and then gray dots on white, then gray dots with black dots on white, then another shade of gray. Colors began to enter in. I was mesmerized by what seemed to be mostly flashing between one color and the next but some where in between were the countless images.A few would stay with me. I heard something. It was Steve.
"you all right?"
"yea I managed" I couldn't move. "how long have I been here?"
"you're taking awful slow." I didn't feel like I was talking slow. I tried to tell Steve this, but he spoke first "you've been here about three days. you've lost some weight. your mom wants to see you . . . if you like I can end the program . . ."
It seemed like such a ridiculous suggestion. End all this! Go back to the slow moving world of simple skies, skies that I had already seen! I could see anything I wanted . . . to see I just had to look for it. My mother? I could see her . . . and at that instant she flashed by.
"no . . ." I sad "no, let me finish."
"all right" I felt him touch my arm.
I fell away, back, into the images. All I could think about was what a wonderful friend Steve was. I looked for him. He flashed by as does everything inevitably. Though the only images I could find were ones that had him crying or looking out of the tiny plastic trailer window at the crystal stagnant scenery of winter.