“Again, you’re not dead.” The disincorporated voice said.
“Explain this, he gestured randomly, and you. While I was alive I never heard voices.While I was awake. And not stoned off my face” he qualified.
QDo you know the Matrix film?
Off course, classic. Wait, are you saying I’ve been uploaded into a virtual reality matrix? Or that I’ve just awoken, my whole life a lie perpetrated by nefarious machine intelligences, merely to power their virtual utopia, and the reason all I can see is a blur and I can hear you but not see you because I’ve never used my eyes before and I don;t know how to focus yet?
He drew a shuddering breath, although, possibly he didn’t.
No. I was just making conversation. I love that film.
He sighed, changed his mind and slammed his fist down. Onto nothing.
Then explain the mist, the utter absence of solid matter apart from myself, and your voice without a source.
Have you ever been to Wales?
Rain. Not mist. And solid ground. I checked. And nobody speaks English when English people are around, so I’m not in Wales.
Worth a shot. OK, I guess you’re dead. Which bums me out considerably as that seem to imply I am as well.
All I’ve got is mist and your voice as well.
Well. He paused. That’s awkward, seeing as I’m an atheist. Are you religious? I’m open to suggestions here.
I’m a Pastarfarian. I was a Pastafarian. Doesn’t seem quite so funny now.
The first sign of noodly appendages and I’m kicking your incorporeal arse.
Says you! Atheists don’t have a hereafter. This is definitely not nothing.
Well it’s not something, so I was half right.