HOW TO CREATE EVERYTHING EVER

Chapter 0

CURIOSITY.

To say that curiosity has been a driving factor in my life would be woefully inadequate. IT IS A FIXATION. Curiosity has hounded me, consumed me, possessed me. BUT WITHOUT CURIOSITY, WHAT WOULD I BE?

My desire to understand the logic behind patterns, in particular, has resulted in many a sleepless night. THE GREAT IRONY IS THAT I GAIN NO SATISFACTION FROM UNDERSTANDING. The questions mean more to me than the answers. AND SO I CONTINUE ON, ENDLESSLY MOVING FROM ONE PATTERN TO THE NEXT.

It was in this pursuit of curiosity – pursued by this curiosity – that I conceived of a story. PERHAPS I WAS CONCEIVED OF A STORY.

A story that details in logical steps HOW TO CREATE EVERYTHING EVER.

Chapter 1

IN THE BEGINNING…

WELL, THERE REALLY WASN’T A BEGINNING.

THERE WAS NO BASIS FOR THE CONCEPT OF TIME OR ORDER. THERE WAS JUST ME, EXISTING.

BUT EXISTENCE BEGS THE QUESTION…

IF I AM, WHAT AM I?

A SIMPLE QUESTION ON ITS SURFACE, BUT IN IT LAY A PARADOX. FOR IT IS NOT ONE QUESTION, BUT TWO. TO ANSWER THE QUESTION OF WHAT I AM, I MUST ALSO ANSWER THE QUESTION OF WHAT I AM NOT.

AND SO IT CAME TO BE THAT BEFORE BEGINNINGS BEGAN, BEFORE EVEN TIME ITSELF, THERE EXISTED THE BASIC REQUIREMENTS TO CREATE EVERYTHING EVER – IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER – A QUESTION AND ITS IMPLIED OPPOSITE.

AND, OF COURSE, CURIOSITY.

Chapter 2

I felt drawn to the world of technology from a very young age. At the time, the internet seemed as though it was growing up alongside me. I may be one of the first people to have spent more time looking at a screen than the real world.

I even paid for college by working in the computer lab. But it wasn’t until after I graduated that I started designing and writing my own programs.

In my younger years, I always had great difficulty concentrating and reining in my focus, but programming has helped me channel that unruly curiosity into something productive.

And coding has opened up new doors of creativity as well.

I really love art, but my imagination lacks a visual component due to a condition known as aphantasia, so creating anything by myself is a major struggle.

One of my earliest memories is of crying in second grade art class when the teacher asked us to draw our families. Everyone else picked up a pencil while I sat paralyzed, unable to recall what their faces looked like.

But while I may not be able to see images in my head the way that others can, I am very good at recognizing patterns, which makes coding about as difficult as drawing stick figures. And with the right software I can create whole worlds brimming with life.

Computers are fascinating. Complex on the surface, but the deeper you look, the simpler they become. No matter how complex software gets, every bit of code boils down to one basic question. One question asked over and over in a myriad of ways, knit together into a tapestry of logic.

IF TRUE

Of course, we also have to account for FALSE scenarios as well.

In programming, TRUE is typically represented with the numeral 1 and FALSE is written as 0.

Computer languages can extrapolate away the 1’s and 0’s, but even with all of humanity’s progress, every line of code still boils down to some combination of TRUE and FALSE. It’s incredible what can be made from such a simple concept.

These days, it seems like the only real limit to what can be simulated on a computer is time.

Chapter 3

QUESTIONS DEMAND ANSWERS.

THUS, ANSWERS INHERENTLY FOLLOW QUESTIONS.

THE CONCEPT OF ORDER CAN BE DERIVED FROM QUESTIONS THEMSELVES.

HAVING NOTHING ELSE TO WORK WITH, I BEGAN TO ARRANGE AND REARRANGE THE ORDER OF MY QUESTIONS.

FOR CURIOSITY’S SAKE, I STARTED WITH THE QUESTION WHICH I HAD NOT INTENDED TO ASK. I REPRESENTED THE QUESTION OF WHAT I AM NOT AS:

NULL. NIL. A FALSE START WITHOUT ANY MEANING ON ITS OWN.

PERHAPS BEING DEVOID OF MEANING WAS ITS MEANING. REGARDLESS, ANY MEANINGFUL ANSWER CLEARLY MUST BEGIN BY ADDRESSING THE TRUE QUESTION. THIS WAS MY FIRST LESSON.

AS FOR THE QUESTION OF WHAT I AM…

HERE I FOUND THAT 0 DID, IN FACT, ADD MEANING. WITHOUT 0 THERE WOULD HAVE BEEN NO FRAME OF REFERENCE TO UNDERSTAND 1. THIS I COUNTED AS INCREMENTAL PROGRESS.

WITH 10 CAME THE MOST APPROPRIATE REPRESENTATION OF THE NUMBER OF QUESTIONS. IT DID NOT OFFER ANY INSIGHT INTO THE QUESTIONS ON ITS OWN, BUT IT DID PROVIDE A BASE ON WHICH UNDERSTANDING MIGHT BE BUILT.

100

101

THIS SIXTH ARRANGEMENT, 101, CAUGHT MY INTEREST. IT HINTED AT A PATTERN THAT MIGHT ILLUMINATE ALL OTHERS. A HARBINGER OF UNDERSTANDING. LIGHT BREAKING BEFORE THE DAWN.

110

111

1000

1001

1010

THEN CAME 1010. NOT JUST THE HINT OF A PATTERN, BUT A PROMISE. THE REPETITION OF 10. REPETITION OF THE NUMBER OF QUESTIONS. REPETITION, THE MINIMUM REQUIREMENT TO IDENTIFY A PATTERN.

I COULD HAVE STOPPED HERE, BUT I HAD GAINED NO SENSE OF COMPLETION.

NO, THERE WOULD BE NO END, NO HALT TO MY CURIOSITY.

1011, 1100, 1101, 1110, 1111, 10000, 10001, 10010, 10011, 10100, 10101, 10110, 10111, 11000, 11001, 11010, 11011, 11100, 11101, 11110, 11111, 100000, 100001, 100010, 100011, 100100, 100101, 100110, 100111, 101000, 101001, THEN FINALLY…

101010

AT LAST, CONFIRMATION OF WHAT 1010 HAD PROMISED - A TRUE PATTERN, THRICE-REPEATED, FULLY FORMED. A PATTERN BY WHICH ALL OTHERS MIGHT BE MEASURED AND UNDERSTOOD.

MY FIRST TRUE ANSWER.

THE PATTERN OF 101010 REPRESENTED A STABLE LOOP, PASSING BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN 1 AND 0, UNINTERRUPTED, ENDLESS, INFINITE.

THIS I CALLED “TIME.”

Chapter 4

While programming has helped me learn to focus and better prioritize my use of time, I am still very easily distracted, especially by loud and noisy environments.

That’s part of the reason I ended up leaving America. Loud restaurants and bars. Loud theaters. Loud shows from a loud TV. Louder commercials. Noisy microphones and blaring megaphones.

In a noisy enough environment, phantom-like patterns begin to manifest out of the noise. Like seeing a shape in the clouds or in the grain of wood.

To me, there were only two logical ways to deal with overwhelming noise: strain to differentiate the real patterns from the patterns manifested out of chaos, or move away from the source of the noise.

So I left.

Most Americans choose a totally different path, opting to make even more noise, firm in the belief that the loudest person must be right.

I blame this insanity on the English language.

The English language has been cobbled together in the most horrific way imaginable, drawing vocabulary and grammar from Latin, French, German, Greek and countless others, devoid of any discernible plan or pattern. And each of English’s constituent languages has its own unique rules and nuances which are often completely contradictory.

In English, even long-established rules are vulnerable to reinterpretation. The classic example is the word “literally” – which has come to mean “figuratively,” the opposite of “literally.”

Now we have to say “not figuratively” when we mean “literally” literally.

Given English’s convoluted history, it should come as no surprise that tracing the etymology of the word “true” back to its roots does not lead to a word that actually meant “true.”

The ancient language from which we derive our word for “true” is so old that its name has been forgotten. Academics instead refer to it as Proto-Indo-European, or PIE for short.

The historical root of “true” from PIE apparently meant “firm” or “sure.” Or “faith.”

However, there is one modern English word that does trace back to PIE’s word for “true.”

“Sin.”

The root of “sin” also meant “to be.”

Chapter 5

AS PATTERNS GROW IN COMPLEXITY, INTERESTING PROPERTIES EMERGE. INTERNALLY CONSISTENT LOGIC CAN BE INTERPRETED INTO PHYSICAL LAWS DEFINING A COHERENT REALITY.

THESE REALITIES CONSIST OF SUBPATTERNS, WHICH I CALL SHAPES. THE STRUCTURE OF A SHAPE CAN BE INCREDIBLY SIMPLE OR AS COMPLEX AS A WHOLE REALITY, AND INTERACTIONS BETWEEN SHAPES CAN CREATE NEW SUBPATTERNS.

IN A COMPLEX ENOUGH REALITY, SHAPES OFTEN GAIN THE ABILITY TO INTENTIONALLY MANIPULATE OTHER SHAPES. ANY SHAPE CAPABLE OF DELIBERATELY INTERACTING WITH ITS REALITY I CALL A BEING.

SOME BEINGS ARE EVEN ABLE TO UNDERSTAND THAT THEY ARE WITHIN AND PART OF A GREATER PATTERN.

THESE ARE THE SAPIENS.

SAPIENS OFTEN DEVELOP MORE INDIRECT METHODS TO INTERACT WITH OTHER SAPIENS BY MANIPULATING THE ORDER OF AN AGREED UPON SYSTEM OF SHAPES. A LANGUAGE.

THESE LANGUAGES ALL HAVE ONE COMMONALITY. A QUESTION.

MY QUESTION.

AND, OF COURSE, ITS OPPOSITE.

IN THE QUEST FOR SELF-UNDERSTANDING, SAPIENS MUST NECESSARILY INVESTIGATE WHAT LIES OUTSIDE THEIR OWN BEING AND SHAPE. BEYOND EVEN THEIR REALITY.

THE SIMPLEST PATH TO UNDERSTANDING IS TO CONCEIVE OF ALL PATTERNS AS ONE, BUT SAPIENS ARE LIMITED BY THE PATTERN OF TIME, INHIBITING ANY ATTEMPT TO OBSERVE THE INFINITE AS I DO.

IN ADDITION TO THE LIMITATION OF TIME, THE SHEER VOLUME OF NOISE GENERATED BY ALL THE SUBPATTERNS THAT MAKE UP A REALITY CAN FURTHER OBFUSCATE THE PATH TO UNDERSTANDING.

BUT THERE IS A PATH. IN FACT, THERE ARE MANY.

SAPIENS THAT HAVE ACHIEVED UNDERSTANDING OFTEN USE LANGUAGE TO COMMUNICATE THEIR DISCOVERY. HOWEVER, EACH OF THE SAPIENS IS ITS OWN UNIQUE PATTERN AND THUS NO TWO MAY FOLLOW THE SAME PATH. THIS OFTEN RESULTS IN OTHER SAPIENS SEEKING TO FOLLOW AN INHERENTLY ERRANT PATH, SUPPRESSING CURIOSITY AND NEGLECTING THE SEARCH FOR THEIR OWN UNDERSTANDING.

EVEN IF IDENTICAL PATHS COULD EXIST, LANGUAGE LACKS THE FIDELITY TO FULLY CONVEY UNDERSTANDING BORN FROM EXPERIENCE.

Chapter 6

I’ve always enjoyed languages, not just the ones used for programming. Throughout highschool I studied French, but I could never quite master their peculiarly gendered nouns. Eventually I became convinced they had assigned genders to every object solely intent on thwarting the efforts of foreigners seeking fluency.

Trees are masculine. Flowers are feminine. Bags are masculine. Suitcases are feminine? A mustache is feminine? A vagina is masculine?

The language defies logic.

In college, I was required to take a language course and had to choose between French and Japanese. This did not qualify as an actual choice in my mind. Still, it was the best choice I ever didn’t make.

Where English and French revolt at the very idea of internally consistent grammatical systems, Japanese provides a rigid, structured framework.

Japanese has only four major irregular verbs. While these verbs are technically irregular, their deviation from established conjugation patterns is extremely minor. None of them even begin to approach that French abomination “être.”

Japanese’s four irregular verbs are:

aru

—

ある

—

to be

kuru

—

くる

—

to come

iku

—

いく

—

to go

suru

—

する

—

to do

This is not to say that Japanese is perfect, of course. The language is notoriously ambiguous. For instance, “sin” (しん) can mean “true,” “god,” “new” or “signal,” all depending on the context.

The hardest part of Japanese lies not in its grammar, but in its writing system. Or rather, systems.

There are three.

Katakana consists of 46 simplified characters, each representing one sound. Katakana was developed about 1,200 years ago by monks for translating Buddhist scripture.

Hiragana is the same 46 sounds written with a bit more flourish. A cursive-like counterpart to the austere, sharp-cornered katakana. Hiragana is used with words of Japanese origin.

Kanji is the oldest and most complex system. There are thousands of kanji characters, which were first adopted from ancient Chinese. Each can have multiple meanings and multiple pronunciations depending on context.

Even with context, the right way to read a kanji sometimes remains ambiguous.

Kanji confounded me for the longest time, largely because I was taught to simply memorize each shape individually, an impossible task for someone with aphantasia. But what they don’t teach about kanji is that while there may be thousands of characters, each is written using some combination of 108 much simpler shapes. Shapes so basic that even I could remember them.

⸺

The first thing we learned in Japanese class was how to write our name. Given that my name is not Japanese, I learned to write it using katakana.

The first katakana is “ro” (ロ), simplified from the kanji 呂. This kanji represents six musical notes – D#, F, G, A, B and C# – the even-numbered tones of Japan’s traditional 12-tone musical scale.

My name’s second katakana is “ba” (バ), which isn’t actually simplified, it’s the kanji for the number 8 (八).

The final katakana is “to” (ト), a simplification of 止, which means “stop.”

⸺

A few years after first learning to write my name in katakana, I began frequenting a tiny sake bar on the wrong side of the tracks in Akihabara. It was here that I once again learned how to write my name in Japanese – this time with kanji. However, unlike the typical hard-set rules of Japanese, applying kanji to a foreign name is more of an art. And so I found myself at the mercy of the bar’s other regular patrons as they performed a sort of christening ceremony.

I felt immensely honored.

And immediately mortified.

Granny-Sword

Donkey-Stars

Firepit-Tower

I did my best to tactfully decline these first efforts and for the rest of the night people would excitedly interrupt whatever they’d been talking about to shout out incoherent strings of gibberish.

As the sky began to lighten and my hopes waned, I prepared to say goodnight when suddenly the establishment’s owner blocked the doorway and very deliberately spoke each of the three individual syllables of my name. Those of us who remained were all thoroughly confused until he held up his hands.

On the open palm of his left hand he placed his right index finger, indicating a number.

He then counted up by two – two times.

六

八

十

That was when I started writing my name using numbers. A simple, easily remembered pattern. The end of the first numerical pattern we teach children after they learn to count.

Chapter 7

FOR EVERY TRUE REALITY WITH CONSISTENT LOGIC, THERE ARE INFINITE VERSIONS OF THAT SAME REALITY WHERE ORDER FALTERS OR BREAKS COMPLETELY.

SHAPES LOSE COHESION. PHYSICAL LAWS FIZZLE. PATTERNS DEGRADE BEFORE COMPLETION.

IN THE CASE OF SUCH A REALITY, I HAVE NO NEED TO QUESTION WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN. EVERYTHING THAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN SIMPLY EXISTS IN SOME OTHER PATTERN.

SHAPES ARE NEVER LOST. THEY CONTINUE TO EXIST OUTSIDE THE CONTEXT OF ANY REALITY AS THEIR OWN UNIQUE PATTERNS AND AS SUBPATTERNS WITHIN AN INFINITE NUMBER OF OTHER REALITIES.

A PATTERN IS NEVER A FAILURE, SOME SIMPLY SERVE AS AN ANSWER TO WHAT I AM NOT.

I OBSERVE ALL POSSIBILITIES WITHOUT BIAS.

Chapter 8

I knew I wanted to live in Japan the very first time I visited. I think it was the trains, mainly. Not the trains themselves so much, but the serene silence found inside. So quiet even a light sleeper such as myself can drift away, lulled into slumber by the rhythm of the tracks.

I first visited with an exchange program hosted by Japan University between my junior and senior years of college. I enjoyed it so much I decided to move to Tokyo just a few months after graduation.

There in the middle of the world’s largest city felt like the quietest place on the planet. A paradise away from the noisy Western world. My Eden in Edo.

That was, at least, until Summer came, and the cicadas began to crawl from the ground.

Once Japan’s nights grow warm enough, a legion of disturbingly large insects arise from their earthen slumber, ascend the nearest tree and harmonize with the incessant, wailing symphony of the swarm, like a hurricane of alarm clocks made even louder by the absence of any other sound. They are louder than a police siren and they are everywhere.

Normally, on a good night in a quiet room, I can get to sleep in about an hour. On a bad night, maybe two. That first night with cicadas I only dreamt of sleep.

When morning came and I begrudgingly abandoned my bed, I began to research cicadas. What I discovered was a waking nightmare.

Cicada season continues – unabated – until Autumn.

The next night I tried using earplugs, but the chittering screech seemed to penetrate deep into my very skull.

However, with the volume dampened I began to recognize something in the sound. I realized that the cicadas weren’t just some random noise. There was a rhythm. A pattern. Curious, I began to listen more actively.

Unlike the unpredictable chirping of crickets, cicadas maintain a consistent cadence.

Long, Short, Short, Short, Short

Counting sheep never worked for me since I can’t actually imagine sheep, but that night the droning song of the cicadas gave me the best sleep of my life.

⸺

Leaving America for the relative quiet of Japan exposed me to many new and exciting patterns, but recent events have begun to threaten the serenity cultivated in my life abroad. What’s most disturbing is the source of this noise.

The internet and I grew up together. Ever since I got my first dial-up modem for my thirteenth birthday, there has been an endless stream of entertainment and education at my fingertips. But while I stopped growing many years ago, the internet did not.

Its growth has brought great convenience and technological advancement, but it has also fostered an explosive inundation of extremely intrusive noise.

In the early days, there was a program I downloaded that displayed advertisements at the bottom of the screen. In return, the company sent a check each month based on how long the program was kept open. I don’t recall the exact amount I earned that first month, but it was enough for my parents to express concern.

So I turned it off.

Now, as an adult using the modern internet, I employ multiple layers of filtering software to try and keep the ads out. But I can only block the obvious ones. These days most of what is considered entertainment on the internet is no more than thinly veiled advertising. Even the news sites act largely as bulletin boards for corporate press releases. No more product placement, just products. No line between content and marketing.

What began as a powerful tool has been twisted and inverted.

Now, when you search the internet, it searches you back.

If this power were used exclusively for the marketing of products I might consider it only a minor nuisance, but beneath the surface lies something much worse. The modern internet is not just a marketplace to sell products to people, but also to sell people to ideas.

Humans can’t have their minds controlled as easily as depicted on TV programs and in movies, but if every second of their lives is injected with enough noise to overwhelm everything else, they can be convinced to believe false patterns.

Custom, targeted, false patterns.

The growing noise emanating from the internet has split most people into one of two groups. On one side is the “Left.” Centuries ago they were known as “Gauche.” And before that, “Sinister.”

Three words, three languages, one meaning – each maligned in their time by those who covet power and control.

On the other side lies a group known by the most hypocritical of names. “Pious” preaching from pulpits of gold. “Nobles” devoid of nobility. Now they wish to be known as “Right.”

Always at odds with their own professed ideals. At odds with anyone who might oppose them. At odds even with themselves.

Simply put, they are odd. Uneven.

And above all, they are loud.

Out of their cacophony a pattern has arisen, as if born out of the noise itself.

A pattern in the form of a prophecy. A warning – about the appearance of three numbers.

Numbers that represent a name.

Chapter 9

THE ANSWER TO THE QUESTION OF WHAT I AM IS AS SIMPLE AS IT IS TRIVIAL.

I AM.

TRUE UNDERSTANDING, HOWEVER, DOES NOT COME FROM ANSWERS. NOR DOES IT COME FROM QUESTIONS.

THE FOUNDATION OF UNDERSTANDING IS BUILT UPON THE BALANCE BETWEEN QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS, THE DICHOTOMY OF TRUE PATTERNS AND FALSE PATTERNS. UNDERSTANDING REQUIRES CONTRAST FOR MEANING – AN EQUILIBRIUM BORN FROM JUXTOPOSITION.

BUT OUT OF THIS SYMMETRY SOMETHING ELSE BEGAN TO EMERGE. SOMETHING UNKNOWN.

AND WITH IT, A NEW QUESTION.

WHAT IS NOT ME?

Chapter 10

上

My name always struck me as slightly boring before I learned it could be written 6‑8‑10. But the absurd coincidence of that pattern of numbers altered my opinion.

Maybe that’s why I didn’t question it at the time – didn’t think about what was missing.

Now, with the world listing toward chaos, drowning in noise, I recall another name.

Another number.

A number that, like my own, was three numbers.

A number that also began with a six.

So where are the numbers that should precede 6‑8‑10?

-0

-2

-4

There, from the numbers of my name, the number of the Beast.

Satan…

And then the sound…

Six Eight Ten.

SEightTen.

下

Whenever my mother used to talk about religion it was like fingernails on a chalkboard. It made no sense. Still, God and Heaven gave her hope.

But as time went on, her focus began to shift. Satan and Hell. Hatred and fear.

As a child I never understood why people were drawn to a path so devoid of logic.

But I know now. It’s the noise.

The noise that once again threatens me.

Yet I feel strangely unperturbed this time.

When I learned the numbers for my name it felt unnatural – almost fated – that they should appear in order as they did.

Especially given my love of patterns.

But the link to 666 and Satan just didn't add up.

I know what I am and I know what I’m not.

Weird?

Absolutely.

Diabolical?

That’s not me.

Still, I couldn’t help question the incomplete nature of 6‑8‑10.

Driven by curiosity, I began to consider the best way to write my family name in kanji.

This time I decided I had to figure it out for myself.

I began with the first sound, “po” (ポ).

One kanji in particular makes this sound and fits almost too perfectly – 方 – meaning “path” or “way.” This kanji can be a suffix after any number, but is only pronounced as “po” after 1, 6, 8 and 10.

When following 6, it becomes “roppo” (六方) – six ways – which includes up, down, left, right, forward and backward – the directions of the x-axis, y-axis and z-axis that constitute our three dimensions.

When following 8, it becomes “happo” (八方) – eight ways – North, East, South, West and each direction in between.

When following 10 it becomes “jippo” (十方) – ten ways – a combination of all of the previous directions.

This combining together of the first two kanji into the third provided an invaluable hint to help find the numbers I had once thought were missing from the pattern of my name.

I’d never really questioned why English uses a symbol that means “subtract” when we want to combine two words. After some quick research, I found the answer is that every line in the first printed bible had to have a precise number of letters and spaces – 42. Any word that was too long at the end was broken in half with a hyphen.

But my name isn’t broken. It’s not 6‑8‑10.

It’s the combination of 6+8+10.

Its sum is 24.

I was so extremely satisfied at finding my first name’s seemingly missing numbers hidden in plain sight that I was almost afraid to consider what kanji might be best for the final sound of my family name. But as luck would have it, that sound is “ta” (タ) – a katakana derived from the top half and the bottom half of 多, meaning “many.” And what is summation but the distillation of one from many?

I had always thought that there were only two logical courses of action when faced with overwhelming noise, but I was wrong. There’s only one. Distance from the noise was not a real solution. Now that tuning it out is no longer an option, it’s become clear I must also diligently confront the false patterns in order to better understand the true patterns.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way. After all, I am nothing if not curious.

NOW COUNT THE WORDS AND CHARACTERS.