Wednesday, June 4, 2008

Are animals and kids more fifth-dimensional?

A direct link to the above video is at

In blog entries like "Being More Fifth-Dimensional" and "Death?" I've made the suggestion that dogs could be more tuned into the "probability space" of the future than we are because of a more well-developed sense of smell and hearing. This is what makes them great guardians and sentries, and is no doubt a very good reason why humans have liked having dogs around for at least the past ten thousand years. But many of us, I believe, have seen evidence that dogs and other animals are more "tuned in" to what others are thinking, and sometimes to events that might be coming, in ways that are about much more than just having better sniffers than we do.

In my book I spoke briefly about Rupert Sheldrake and his concept of morphic resonance - an idea that is quite easy to integrate into the ideas I've promoted here. If, as quantum physicists say, reality is ultimately just information, then patterns that connect across the fifth dimension and above could easily be part of nonlocality, entanglement, empathy, prescience, and yes, "Dogs That Know When Their Owners are Coming Home" (my favorite Sheldrake book). In another book I've talked a lot about lately, David Jay Brown's "Conversations on the Edge of the Apocalypse",
Sheldrake describes a parrot with remarkable powers:

The parrot N'kisi, belonging to Aimee Morgana in New York... turns out to be one of the most remarkable animals in the world. He's an African gray that now has a vocabulary of more than 950 words, which is a world record, and he speaks in sentences...

So this is a completely astonishing situation of an animal that talks and uses language in a meaningful way--better than chimps or gorillas that have been taught to use language through American Sign Language... most amazing of all is that he picks up what his owner's thinking telepathically and comments on her thoughts and intentions--even on her dreams.

We set up a whole series of controlled tests to see if he really could pick up what she was thinking. In these tests we filmed the parrot continuously in one room, and the owner was in another room--with all the doors closed, on another floor of the house, so there was no sound transmission possible. She looked at a series of photographs that she hadn't seen before, which were in sealed randomized envelopes. In each trial, she was filmed as she opened an envelope and looked at the picture in it for two minutes. She didn't say anything. Then we had an independent transcription of what the parrot said. Three independent people transcribed it, blind, not knowing what was going on. We then saw whether the words the parrot said matched the picture the owner was looking at. In some tests the parrot didn't say anything. But when he did, we could see if the words corresponded--and in an astonishingly significant way they did. In some trails, for example she was looking at a picture of a man on a phone, and the parrot said "What'cha doing on the phone?". In other trials she was looking at pictures of flowers, and the parrot said "Those are flowers. It's a pic of flowers".
The constantly nattering "narrator voice"
In my book and past blogs I've talked about the Julian Jaynes "Bicameral Mind" theory which suggests that the normal mode of operation for human beings up until a few thousand years ago was to not be operating with a "narrator voice" that says "now I am walking", "now I am driving", and so on, and that the older, more integrated mode of operation can actually be advantageous to us when we return to it - it's much harder to hit a ball or play a violin or drive a car if we are thinking about every little action. Complicated activities like these are more easy to perform if we can find a way to just "be". Is it also possible that kids operate in this integrated mode more easily, until constant reminders from the adults around them to "pay attention and stop daydreaming" trains them out of it? That's what I'm proposing.

Julian Jaynes introduced his theories to the world with his book "The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind". My song "Automatic" is about this bicameral mind theory, and the conclusion we can draw from the above: being more bicameral is being more integrated, less fractured. Quieting our narrator voice allows us to do more, despite the influence of western culture which has trained us to be suspicious of those moments when they happen. I believe this ties nicely to the quote from Nobel-prize-winner Kary Mullis referred to in my last blog entry: this is about being more tuned into the parts of you that are spread across time, which according to this way of visualizing reality is being more fifth-dimensional.

One "now" after another, one planck length at a time
The amazing "now" that each of us is in from moment to moment is always coming from this probability space of the fifth dimension. This means that the possibilities available to us are always much more diverse than what might seem to be there if we are convinced that we are merely travelling down a straight and limited fourth-dimensional line of time. Does that make the fifth dimension a dangerous idea? Well, even though this doesn't mean that the fifth dimension is some kind of magic, some would say it does.

A direct link to this video is at

Enjoy the journey,

Rob Bryanton

Next: Local Realism Bites the Dust

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