I jump into an alternate universe regularly. It’s not at all hard to do and I’ve come away with some fascinating imagery from there.
The place is Earth but it’s different from our version. From the looks of things, I’d say a nuclear disaster took place and humanity has been rebuilding in the aftermath for about 50 years or so.
The level of technology in this alternate world is very close to what we have here but the way in which it’s applied is quite different. Also, it’s hot as hell there.
In one image that I remember well, I’m riding in an electric car that’s autonomous and cruising down a concrete paved highway at a pretty good clip. Sixty mph, maybe.
The car is flat, like a rectangular box and the riders are protected by a bubble-type enclosure. Inside the cabin it’s dirty, smelly and the seat has the feel of a brick.
The highways, and all of the roads, actually, are protected on both sides by tall, arching chain-link fencing which is installed so close to the shoulder of the pavement that a breakdown lane doesn’t exist.
Riding along you get the sensation of being in a tunnel made of galvanized wire.
In this particular city, buildings are sparse and the ones I see are enormous brick and cinder block structures with few windows. The people here don’t like rectangles very much, however, because almost all of the buildings are constructed with sweeping, curved walls.
Tall awnings attached to the constructions are prevalent. For shade, I suppose.
As I ride along I notice the landscape is devoid of trees and what’s growing everywhere is a tall, brown, dry grass which flows in patterns made by strong winds.
It’s not a pretty place. There’s litter congealed and molded to the base of the fencing and the pavement is rough, cracked and bumpy.
The sky is a hazy, yellowish white and it’s so thick you can look directly at the sun without squinting.
I pass by several ponds and lakes that are completely empty and dry.
Earth in the 5th dimension? Um, I don’t think so.
In another image that I remember well, I’m riding in an autonomous electric vehicle but this time it’s a bus and it’s loaded with people on their way to work.
Well, it seems as if we’re commuting to work. It’s very early in the morning, dark, with the sun just starting to illuminate the dusty, smoky smog that we’re breathing.
Nobody’s talking and I’ve got a window seat. The center aisle is full of standing passengers. Sardines in a can.
Passing by as I watch are hundreds of trees that have been snapped in half, their top sections laying on the ground in heaps of dry, crunched wood. The tall brown grass grows all around them.
Here, you can see for miles into the distance because of the leveled foliage. Either not enough time has gone by for the plant life to recover or the plant life won’t ever recover. It’s hard to say.
Because of the unlimited view, electric power lattice towers can be seen almost everywhere. These things are gargantuan, magnificent, dizzyingly tall structures that would dwarf the biggest ones we have here.
And they’re beautiful. Why? I have no idea. It’s almost as if we humans decided, in a really strange way, to beautify our world with the things. They incorporate sweeping curves, elaborate shapes, long, suspended conduit and crisscrossed cables twisted into neat geometric figures.
It’s crazy irony, if you ask me. Above, almost dancing in the sky, are enormous, artistic towers and below, sweltering in the dust, is what’s left of our green planet.
Ahead in the distance, as the bus crests a small hill, I can see where I work.
It’s an immense, low and flat concrete building that stretches for hundreds of acres. It’s so big it looks like it’s bent by the curvature of the earth. It literally hugs the ground.
No windows, no color, no second story, nothing is there to draw attention to it. It’s painted a drab grey.
Alongside the roadway, as I look through the chain-link fence, there’s a body of water that we’re traveling along and it stretches out into a bay or harbor. Even with the blowing wind, the water is flat.
I imagine the water must be heavy because it’s not choppy or flowing. Like it has a thick concentration of metals and chemicals which weigh it down and keep it smooth. The color of the water matches the color of the building; gun metal grey.
The place is a power generating plant that feeds the wires going up and through the artistic towers.
Thankfully, I never arrived at work. The imagery ended and I was back in our version of the universe. Compared to that world, Earth in 3D is a paradise.