The Three Brothers II

Once upon a time there were three brothers.

As far as their stories go, they were often compared with their father but the truth was very different. In reality all the members of the family were equals in that they had all been given the gift of life and the only thing that separated them was that they had very different stories.

Their fathers story was unique however, you see he was born with a special talent that is so rare that it may only be realised in one or two individuals in a generation among all the people in the world. With his gift, he could see the strange ethereal potential of anyone he spent time with. In his eldest son, he saw the potential to survive and learn and endure hardships that others could not and with subtlety and skill, he encouraged him to go out into the world and in this way, his eldest son gathered stories, scars and adventures and lived a full life.  In his second son, he saw a gentle spirit who’s strength was the strength of the home and heart and knowing that he could not survive well out in the world, he encouraged him to build a home and in this way his second son lived a great and fulfilled life. In his youngest son, he saw a dreamer who could change the fabric of world when he slept and so, gave him the space to dream and this youngest son had the lives of both his brothers as he dreamed.

The talent was one thing, learning how to use it was another and these three brother’s father had spent a lifetime learning how to use it and on the way, had saved the lives of many, rescued princesses, killed evil dragons and sailed the 7 seas in search of its sacred mysteries. All his gifts he had passed on except his special talent which was just part of the lottery of life. His sons never knew any of this and they did not need to but it did make him laugh every now and then.

Copyright Faramond Frie © 2018


Bob the dot

Special Sciences Unit, Building 12, LHD Complex, Cern. Switzerland. June. 2029.


‘So how exactly does it work?’

‘The field creates a bubble in spacetime that seems to be held static within the superficies of the dimensional lattice. The dimensions are ever moving, shifting and rippling like great universal waves that cross each other, glide over each other, intersect and so on. Where they cross, there is a boundary event that we are even now, only beginning to understand but these boundaries allow the possibility of travel between dimensions.’

‘I’m not sure I follow, Dr Chang. You say this is a time travel theory? How does that work with regard to dimensional field theory?’

‘Sorry Mr LeClerc, I spend so much time among people involved at the hard edge of this discovery that it can seem that we sometimes speak a completely alien language. As you are familiar with dimensional field theory you may grasp the concept of the dimension of time in the same way. Imagine we could look at a universe in which there are only 2 dimensions and let us say for example that that universe existed entirely on a single A4 piece of paper.’


‘Just so Mr LeClerc, and so we, as 3 dimensional beings can view the goings on in that universe from a higher plane of existence so to speak. Now let us put a dot in the middle of the paper and give the dot life, voila! As you say in France. This dot, let us call him Bob, is quite happy in his own universe, then we draw a circle round Bob and he is none the wiser, it is only when he travels over that circle, crosses the line of the circle’s arc, that he is aware of the change, his universe is no longer white, it is black, the colour of our pen.’

‘And he would never know it was a circle?’

‘Indeed not, his awareness extends only to 2 dimensions. We however, can see Bob the dot and also that the line that surrounds him is in fact a circle, we can also see the futility of Bob as he follows this neverending line wondering where it is heading without knowing that it is in fact an eternal circle.’

‘Is there a way Bob can see he’s in a circle?’

‘I believe so Mr LeClerc.’


Copyright Faramond Frie © 2018

The Three Brothers

Once upon a time there were three brothers.

The first and oldest learned through experience. He rarely listened to the advice of his father and rushed headlong into things, often in an attempt to get away from his fathers constant attempts to control him. He left home early and travelled far, gathering many stories and scars. He got his wish and was the equal of his father having taken the same time to reach the same place independently.

The second brother did not learn life as he had no need. He listened to the advice of his father and adopted a pragmatic and sensible view of the world and he was of course his fathers favourite because he listened to his fathers advice. He only left home when it was safe to do so and when he did, he did not go far. He got his wish and was the equal of his father for he applied the lessons that his father had learned and in this way gained the benefits of his fathers hard earned experience.

The youngest brother grew up watching both his older brothers and learned through observation. He observed the pain of total freedom and the benefits of conformity and chose the middle way. He travelled a little and he listened a little but in the middle he daydreamed and thus travelled far beyond the borders that his eldest brother had ever reached and with wealth that his second sibling would be envious of. His lands where the lands of ‘what if’ and the realms of kings and queens, knights and beggers, heroes, saviours and demons. It was in this way, that he surpassed both his brothers and his father for he had the learned that he had the potential to be anything he wanted.

On their fathers deathbed, he spoke to them all individually.

To the eldest he said. “You remind me of me when I was your age.”

To the second he said. “You remind me of me now.”

To the youngest he said. “You should be more like your brothers.”

The end.


Copyright Faramond Frie © 2018


Why on earth would anyone not be on the social net?

New Earth Council Building. U.N. H.Q. Brussels. 2029.

‘Veronika is on her way director.’

‘Good, she was a bugger to find. Why on earth would anyone not be on the social net?’

‘Her work papers explain her thoughts on that quite succinctly director.’

‘Yes, I read them, she really does believe that we are in some kind of dystopian future and her work dovetails into this. Her research into random events and intention is quite extra-ordinary.’

‘She is living to her principles and according to the only social outlet she indulges, her blog, her belief and the root of all her research, is that the last great frontier of the mind holds its power in its unique ability to connect with insight and intuition and affect the outcome of seemingly random events. This last great frontier needs to have an edge in the wild, the frontier if you like, and big scale social media actually destroys that edge. It polarises like nothing has ever done before, causing once fluid minds into a single calcified space and equally as powerful, it creates a place to lose oneself to the banal if one is not careful. In short, she believes that it kills the power of the minds all-powerful intention.’

‘Do you believe any of this Mark?’

‘I have seen the time-gate work director, so the gates of my belief are wide open. Veronika’s intention, that she holds to, is that there are more powerful ways to connect. Her argument is that it’s a little like binge watching TV, it kills the imagination or like every labour-saving device ever invented, they slowly kill the muscles involved. She believes that social media kills natural connectedness, unless you are strong enough to use it wisely.’

‘Well that means she is saying she is not strong enough?’

‘I think she is saying that director. She does not keep any alcohol in the house as she openly admits she will drink it if it’s there. She has no TV for the same reason and has her food ordered specifically. “Out of sight, out of mind.” she quotes.’

‘Well, I am looking forward to meeting her, she sounds very special indeed.’

‘All of them are director.’


Copyright Faramond Frie © 2017

A Seemingly Random Event

Unlisted Airport, Somewhere Near Novgorod, Russia. 2029.

Veronika trudged through the snow toward the plane that was waiting with engines turning at the little anonymous airport. The man beside her was big and powerful and spoke very little except when he indicated where they would be going next. “Through those doors please Ms Tartakovsky.” “Kindly follow the corridor please Ms Tartakovsky.” “We will be leaving for the airport in that car Ms Tartakovsky.” He was polite and well spoken, very well spoken in fact though she could not pinpoint his accent. They had been travelling together now for over 7 hours and still had a flight ahead and Veronika knew next to nothing about her guide. He seemed to be the ultimate professional and some kind of military or security, of that there was no doubt. She noticed that he was alert at all times and was constantly scanning as if there would be some kind of attack, this had made Veronika feel very uncomfortable to begin with until she realised that he was also quite relaxed and this was in fact merely a long ingrained habit. After some time, she relaxed enough to begin to ask him questions, all of which he fended off professionally with the line: “All your questions will be answered at our destination Ms Tartakovsky.” By now Veronika was pretty pissed off, her curiosity was hitting blanks and was turning into huge frustration. They stopped at the foot of the stairs to the plane and the man turned gestured to the hatch.

‘Please be so kind as to board the…’

‘It’s pretty damn obvious that we will be boarding that plane Mr Stranger, it’s the only damn plane in the airport, so please just stop with the unnecessary communication and if you do feel a pressing need to speak, maybe you could start by telling me your name?’

Mr Stranger just stood and regarded her with cool eyes and then nodded ever so slightly and walked ahead of her to the plane and up the stairs. This at least was something, up till this point, he had told her where to go and followed her, reminding her of the cross-country runs she had done at school, there was always a teacher at the very back of the straggling line of unwilling runners and this teacher would use any means necessary including a kick up the rear end, to keep the last of the children running until they reached the finish line. By walking ahead, he had trusted her to follow, a small victory? She stood alone in the freezing wind for a moment longer and cast her eye about the white expanse in the middle of nowhere, the only options were back to the airport manned by a small, semi military looking ground crew or forward to the warmth of the unmarked prop driven aircraft in front of her. Who was she kidding, there was actually nowhere else to go, he trusted her to make the only real decision to get on the plane.

Muttering her frustration, she pulled her long coat up and ascended the stairs to the plane, passing the only crew member, a young woman, again looking semi military with no badges, but welcoming Ms Tartakovsky on board. She chose a seat at the front as Mr Stranger had positioned himself in the middle of the small craft. In short order the airplane taxi’d out to the runway and then fought its way through the driving snow into the air.

She did the calculations in her head, 7 hours of driving at about 60 mph, the fastest they could travel in this weather so they must be somewhere within about 400 miles of Skolkovo, but why? Skolkovo had its own little airport close by, why did they not just use that? All her questions would be answered at the destination. She said this over and over like a mantra until she drifted and went through this mornings events that had led her to this strange situation. Interrupting breakfast, Mr Stranger had knocked on the door of her house and handed her a note. The note said only “Follow this man and do what he asks.” and she had.

Veronika was curious and always had been. Her father had carried her on his shoulder while she was young and shown her how fascinating the world was. He had flicked switches on the wall and instantly, there was light, he had pressed the black and white keys on the box by the wall and then there was sound. Everything was connected and she wanted to know how and why. She had grown up and followed her curious instincts, driving into an ever deeper understanding of the interconnectedness of all things until she graduated at the University of Moscow in theoretical physics and social science and eventually found her dream job at Kransk. Within 10 short years, she was the head of probability science at the Kransk Group, pioneering the Russian effort into the effects of intention on random events. Her father would have been proud of her. This morning, the most random event of her life occurred and perhaps even her insatiable curiosity may not have been enough to follow the big strange minder into a strange car even under those circumstances but then again it was not the words on the letter that had caused her to voluntarily follow Mr Stranger, it was the fact that the message was written in her own hand writing.


Copyright Faramond Frie © 2017

The Verse

The Verse, multiple dimensions, multiple time lines, multiple realities, and for multiple, read infinite. That’s a lot of possibilities and quite mind blowing for most beings who are content to exist in their little corner of what reality means to them. They have no interest in anything outside of their universe, uni…meaning one, because they have bills to pay, places to be, entertainment to consume, people to try and sleep with, birthday’s to organise, business to win and whatever else keeps them busy where they are.

For some though, a rare minority of mostly weird individuals though occasionally entire species, a single universe is not enough. These rare minorities have discovered through technology, through spirituality, through accident, guidance or simply being aware at birth, that there are in fact multiple every-things and that it is quite possible, with the right technology, spiritual atunement, natural gifts or the right friends, to cross between them all.

Some say that the Verse always was, always will be and always is, others say it was created by a Sci-Fi writer from Earth in the early 21st Century ( not me ) who was letting the creative spirit live through his pen and in the process, created everything. No one really knows the answers, even the weirdest of weirdos in the Verse but one thing is for sure, this particular story takes place within the Verse and this story is true. All realities are open, all times are available and all universes accessible and all of them have more in common than one might imagine, given an infinite variety of realities.

That means, everything that is being experienced right now, can change, if you have those friends, gifts or tech.


Copyright Faramond Frie © 2017

Four Friends

paris-sacre-coeurFrom the balcony they could see the feet of the Eiffel Tower and the base of the Basilica De Sacre Coeur. They were perfectly positioned for the event and when it happened, it happened like all the most important moments, in a small and intimate way.  There were no explosions of colour, no loud music or fireworks, just a glass of wine and a shared moment.

The four friends held hands and rejoiced that they were here and they were now.

“To absent friends.”

“To absent friends and bon anèe!”

All of them had made silent vows in that moment, a promise to themselves, to others and to the greater world around them of which they were a part, like a huge fabric woven of music.

If one could traverse such a fabric, one might see the impossibility of an infintite number of chord and note combinations, perhaps as colours and patterns that were ever shifting.  As one moved across the surface of such a fabric, if it were possible to regard this marvelous cloth from a higher vantage point, one might see patterns that one found harmonious and beautiful.  Patterns, colours and music that a higher being, such as we would have to be, may find pleasing to regard and perhaps one would hover closer to these moments, these areas, these places, enjoying them in much the same way as one might linger in a summer glade.


Copyright Faramond Frie © 2017

Image courtesy of

Crazy Uncle

Your father’s a practical man and he told you that wizards don’t exist to protect you from disappointment, that’s all. It’s because he loves you and he doesn’t want to see you get upset when you meet more and more people that tell you magic is not real and that people like Dumbledore, Gandalf and Father Christmas don’t exist. But magic is real! I have seen it, I have touched it, I have been part of it and will be again. It is real and it is there for people that want to find it and even if the whole world tells you it’s not true, I want you to know there will always be one person in it that tells you it is.

Copyright Faramond Frie © 2016

The Gamble

Dear Friends,
Once again, I find myself travelling and once again I have that wonderful sense of being on the move with plenty of time to think and create, time to simply watch the world.  I particularly enjoy traveling by train and flying because one can indulge in the art of observation and contemplation while still satisfying the souls need to be on the move in some way.

I am travelling once more to beautiful Copenhagen where I shall be meeting the mysterious lady calling herself Fru Hyggeligt, which really has no direct translation one to one in English but literally translated means "Mrs Cozy".  Anyone who met her would realise just how far off the mark that translation is as she is one of the empowered and takes great delight in bringing a sense of balance to what you may call, the quintessence.  In practical terms, to deal with her means that you are in for some change and you never know which side you will be on each time.  Her goal is the balance of greater forces than most of us will never be more than momentarily aware of, so she is a mystery.  You may call her a wizard I suppose although she prefers the term, witch.  In any case, once you begin to deal with her, you will never know the outcome and even if it is in your favour, it will never be in the way you expect.

I like her.  I have met her a few times on the periphery of things but never in any kind of business sense so I have merely been an observer of the way she works and the forces that seem to ebb and flow around her and her spheres of influence.  Magical, mysterious, alluring and frightening all at once!

So the question you are no doubt asking is why am I flying to see her?  

I saw a program once about a man who had made so many mistakes that he saw only one way out of his predicament, he sold his house in England and flew to Las Vegas and then after downing the most expensive whiskey money could buy, gambled his entire worldly wealth on the spin of a wheel.  The man won and the gamble paid off.  Well, I am in a similar situation although the stakes are less to do with finances and much more to do with the intangible.  Lets say its a debt to someone long dead and there is no way I can pay it unless I get some heavyweight help.  The stakes?  The stakes are the highest anyone can gamble with, the stake is my very own life's worth.  She will know how to measure such things being who she is, and also what that may be worth.

In any case, I am on my way and resolved and shall meet her later today and I am hoping that she likes my company as much as I enjoy hers and that it counts for something in the big scheme of things.  I shall write again when time and circumstances allow. I hope you are all well back home and please send my love to the others.

I remain as always, your friend,


Copyright Faramond Frie © 2016

The First Mask

I remember when I was young going to a masked ball.  It was captivating, magical and completely new to me.  I remember how free I was and how brave… all because I covered my face.  I danced and drank and took risks I would never had done without my face hidden.  As I said, I was young and inexperienced and had little time to prepare.  Some of my friends parents helped them make a mask for the event and they enjoyed the creative moments leading to the party as much as the ball itself whereas my parents were caught up in their own lives and I had to work it out for myself.  I knew little of the history or the etiquette and I, like  most others, had to choose a standard mask from the local joke shop.  There were not many to choose from and the quality was pretty poor so I chose a simple black ‘Zorro’  style mask.  Looking back now, I believe I chose that mask because it did not commit me to being a happy or a sad clown, death, or the devil, a plague doctor, scaramouch or anything in particular.  It was a blank.

I give thanks for that now.  Like everyone else, I had no idea that the ball would be the start of a struggle that would last for decades and for some, an eternity.

The night itself, was magical though and even though I now know the horrors that followed it, the memories of that night stay with me still and it remains one of the greatest nights in my life.  The rest of my life, after that night, changed at midnight when the mysterious cloaked man took the stage.  We thought it was part of the show of course, and the haunting music slowed and quieted as did we all when he stood on stage overlooking us all.  He wore a dark cloak that covered his head and flowed like liquid indigo to his feet, his mask, was death.  I remember now like it was yesterday, a more powerful presence I have never since met.  At the time, we were all captivated!  I was young then and did not know anything really and we were all caught up in the ball you see.  When he spoke, his deep voice reached us all and added to the mystery of the dark melody that continued to play between dances.

“If you would like the magic of this evening to last forever, you have merely to keep your masks on for a single night.  Until the sun rises my friends, until the sun rises.”

There were cheers, giggles, laughter and applause.  One or two voices demanded more details, no doubt law students we all thought, but he gave no further word and then left the stage with perfect choreography and then, as if nothing had happened, the next dance began. We whirled away with each other again, celebrating with our youthful energy, our bodies and our spirits and danced into the night.

I remember walking home with friends in costume and then bidding each goodnight as we reached our digs and then, just before falling asleep, my hand went to remove my mask and I remembered the strange promise at midnight… or was it a challenge?  My hand dropped to my side and my last thoughts as I fell asleep after the greatest night of my life was: “What the hell.”


Copyright Faramond Frie © 2016