The Unpretenders - Chapter 3

Astronomers could never be accused of downplaying the physical challenges of living on other planets - at least the ones that we're aware of, anyway. Whether it's icy methane rainstorms or lead-melting temperatures, they'll gleefully chuckle at the notion of anybody actually setting foot on one of these distant orbs.

Still, if push came to shove, there would be no shortage of volunteers who'd be willing to brave such extremes, in the name of science... and adventure. Indeed, the Mars One colony mission, which aims to send humans on a one-way trip to the red planet, received over 78,000 applications. Geronimo!

Step outside of the mainstream, however, and you'll find people discussing something far more interesting and significant: The psychological challenges of visiting inhabited worlds. That is to say, other civilizations. For as knowledge of our galactic neighbourhood grows, as it has been doing, so too does the potential for interplanetary travel. Discussions of this nature, therefore, are no longer merely speculative or philosophical. Whistle-blowers have even revealed the existence of secret government 'exchange programs' with extraterrestrials, such as Project Serpo.

Conventional wisdom maintains that society fears knowledge of this kind, due to its more frightening implications. According to Julian, however, those frightening implications have nothing to do with any imagined threat from aliens, but rather from a deeply buried memory of what's actually out there. Namely, the antithesis of everything that humanity has become. In other words, most people unconsciously intuit that life on Earth isn't actually a microcosm of the macrocosm, as they may have been led to believe. And whilst human beings have always had a need to anthropomorphise the universe, it's a need which can only ever be fulfilled through science-fiction (and religion).

I wasn't entirely sure what he meant, at first, so duly raised my arm and requested some clarification. Julian obliged by citing Star Trek, Star Wars and Doctor Who. All of which, he said, portrayed a universe which was essentially nothing more than a continuation of the dualistic Earth drama, albeit on a bigger stage. "This is pure wish fulfilment," he concluded. "But the truth will shock you even more."

His statement gave me goose bumps, even though I knew what he was referring to - or, at least, felt that I did. In any case, I stayed behind again, after class, to discuss the matter further.

"What you need to understand," he began, "is the connection between your entertainment industry and your news media. Because, ultimately, the universe doesn't perceive any difference between what human beings want to see on their screens, and what actually happens in their reality. It's only the mind which draws a line between the two. It's only thought which says, 'that was a movie, whereas this is a real catastrophe'. Similarly, it's only thought which says, quite wrongly, 'that was just a dream, whereas this is reality'. Consciousness itself makes no such distinction, because for consciousness there is only experience - which is always real. In other words, there's no such thing as a fake experience, even if what is being experienced is something other than what it purports to be."

"So the entertainment industry is causing..."

"Not causing, no. The entertainment industry is symptomatic."

"Of what?"

"Of the human addiction to drama, struggle, competition, achievement, suffering and disaster. Or, more fundamentally, the human addiction to separation, ego and dualism, from which your entire reality emerges."

"Okay. But what gave rise to that addiction in the first place, and what sustains it?"

"The need for meaning."

"Simple as that?"

"Yes. Because without the illusion of separation, there is only the truth and reality of what is, which is absolutely and inherently devoid of any and all meaning. And yet, for most souls, the truth of what is has become the joy of what is, the bliss of what is, and the pleasure of what is. Although, of course, from a human perspective, that is obviously hard to grasp."

"Is that why most people would find your planet boring?"

"Indeed."

"Are you allowed to say what it's called?"

"Shanala Five."

"What does it mean?"

"Shanala is simply our word for planet."

"And I suppose it's fifth from your central star?"

"Right."

"Planet Five! That's a little clinical, don't you think?"

"At least it's not dirty."

"Dirty?"

"Earth!"

"Oh, I see. Good point. But still..."

Julian smiled as I struggled to wrap my mind around what he was trying to tell me. "We don't identify ourselves with a planet," he said, "or to anything else in the realm of form."

"Whereas humans, by contrast, tend to identify themselves with everything."

"Right. And therein lies the drama. My nation and your nation; my beliefs and your beliefs; my possessions and your possessions."

"I really don't want to play that stupid game any more."

"You're not alone. Many souls have been here since the beginning, and are finally beginning to realise the futility of it all. Even your Bible speaks to this."

"Where?"

"Ecclesiastes 1:14. I have seen everything that is going on under the sun; and, behold, it's all meaningless, like chasing the wind."

"And yet you decided to come here."

"Only to help those who want to leave. Do you want to leave, Sophie?"

"More than anything."