mbhdp3y

the divinity of higher dimensions
FBI Headquarters, Washington, D.C., 3:00 P.M.
Sometimes you feel like you are not part of this world. People often stare
at you on the street and when you wander the FBI halls late at night.
Even the custodial staff seems to follow you as if you are something odd
or alien. You consider the situation with an amusement and aloofness
that angers those closest to you, particularly Sally.
"What's that?" Sally asks.
You look at your hand. "This is my hand."
Sally rolls her eyes. "Not that. I mean the book in your hand."
"Flatland." You dust off an old book and flip through its pages. "It was
published in 1884 by a Victorian schoolmaster named Edwin Abbott
Abbott. It's about the life of a square in a 2-D world called Flatland.
When he tells his people about the third dimension, they put him in jail."
Sally's eyes dart around your cluttered office and focus on a large
photo of former FBI Chief J. Edgar Hoover. A thin trail of strawberry
incense arises from a burning stick on your desk, and there is a twangy
musical sound coming from some nearby speakers. You are now playing a
CD of Bismilla Kahn and Ravi Shankar.
Sally's eyes focus on you. "You said the square is put in jail? Are you hinting
that we're going to get in trouble by exploring the fourth dimension?"
"I'm already being followed by secretive, cigarette-smoking men in
black hats."
"That's absurd."
"Sally, listen up. I want to talk about Flatland because by understanding
the square's difficulty in visualizing the third dimension, we'll be better
able to deal with your problem with the fourth dimension."
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