Friday, May 1, 2026
Today, I went to the IMAX theatre. I saw a 3D movie called Wild Asia.
There are sure a lot of interesting animals there and the narrative script was 100% spot on. I could see nothing omitted from it.
One animal is called the bunny slug that lives in the ocean. It looks like a little bunny. Actually it looks like something that came from another planet. It has long brown ears, a white body with large round brown patches and it has something that looks like a red cabbage protruding from its back that also looks like a bunny tail. This bunny eats the extremely toxic blue coral. No other animals eat it. A moray eel swam up to it until it was just millimetres away and the normally voracious moray eel wouldn't even look twice st it. The question is, how does it know? Who taught the moray eel and all other fishes as well that the sea bunny is deadly poisonous? Do they have vertical learning?
Anyways, I just couldn't help but think that I was wearing AR sunglasses. The sunglasses can do 3D screens no problem and in movie theatre size.
I imagined that if the audience all of a sudden took off their 3D glasses there would be nothing but a blank wall in front of them. The pretty IMAX screen size movie they are seeing is the display from the AR glasses that the attendant at the door handed out to everyone which forms the core of the paid experience.
I was confused for a moment. No,, not really, sarcastically. Was I at an IMAX theatre or was I wearing AR sunglasses and simply in a room where everyone could else in the audience is also wearing one and with image and sound synced to external speakers? Those two experiences would pretty much feel the same.
This teaches how to frame a situation.
The brain isn't just a video camera. It's a filter that interprets what you see based on the programming you've been feeding it. The reticulated activating function is the part of the brain that screens out 98% of what is seen and just focuses on the 2% that you've pre-told it what is important and what is not. And it works on repetition.
You can either tell yourself, the future will be bright. Somehow, things always work themself out somehow. My future will better than I can imagine. And keep saying it.
Or else you can say, I am afraid of the future. Fürchte zukünftigen alles der Zeit. Im doomed. And keeping saying that.
I prefer to think that from experience, the future always winds up having a few surprises and good surprises at that. Life is a giver. Life is a cornucopia, a horn of plenty.
