Holographic Principles

"A hologram is just a three-dimensional illusion encoded on a lower-dimensional surface. Like this..."

Zac squinted at the image. "I don't get it. What is this?"

"Exactly! You don't get it. It looks like complete chaos, doesn't it? Kind of like that dispersed ink we just watched. But if you were to shine a laser of a specific frequency and angle at the pattern, a three-dimensional illusion would unfold. Here, let me demonstrate."

I opened Zac's notebook again and ripped out a piece of paper. After scribbling some concentric circles onto the paper to represent the holographic film, I asked Zac to hold it parallel to the ground. I then got out my phone and held it under the paper, shining a light through its surface.

"See, if you pretend the paper is the holographic film and my phone is a laser, as I shine this light through the film, a three-dimensional illusion will appear above it. Let's say the illusion is an-"

"Apple," Zac said as he removed an apple from his bag and held it above the paper.

"Perfect," I said. "If you look at the holographic film, there is a deeply hidden order enfolded in its chaos. The order will only manifest when a laser shines through the film at a specific angle. That's the first holographic principle: the three dimensions of space are an illusion that unfolds from a lower dimension.

This idea extends into the next property of holograms: non-locality. Actually, hold on…" I picked up my phone and started flicking through my photos. "This will do." I showed Zac a picture that was taken at a party.

"This is a photo," I said.

"Obviously."

"Yes, obviously. Now, in this photo, we have Maddie, Brett, Jane, myself, and my rather large emoji making a very suggestive facial expression. I want you to think about what would happen if I had a massive fight with Maddie, Brett, and Jane, and wanted to cut them all out of my life."

"Ohhh drama. What happened?" Zac asked.

"Umm… I dunno. Maybe I caught them in the stairwell plotting to kill me because I was a terrible dancer, and they were embarrassed to be seen with me."

Zac raised his eyebrows. "If they were going to murder you for your poor dancing abilities, I feel like there is something seriously wrong with their moral compass."

"Whatever. It doesn't matter."

"It does matter, Nikki!" He shook his head in disappointment. "You shouldn't be hanging out with people who are going to murder you for your lack of dancing talent. That's like throwing yourself into the lion's den."

"Hey!" I snapped. "I'm not that bad. I did some salsa in Colombia."

"No… You merely followed the lead of men who already knew how to dance. You just had to let yourself be twirled around."

"Hmm... This is true."

"Didn't you used to do ballet as a kid?" Zac asked. "It's such a comical picture in my mind. You are graceful-as-fuck."

"Yeah," I sighed. "I did ballet, tap, and jazz for about three years when I was in primary school. My sister was always incredible at it, but I danced like an uncoordinated monkey. I remember one time she got to star as Sailor Moon in the end-of-year dance concert, and she got the coolest costume. Meanwhile, the dance instructors relegated me to the back row, as per usual."

"Alex seems like that type," Zac said.

"Yeah, well, she always won the dancing awards. After three years of classes, I'd never won a trophy. I think the dance school felt bad that my parents had paid tuition for so long, and I was still terrible. They finally gave me the 'Encouragement Award' trophy. The encouragement award, Zac."

"Were you encouraged?"

"No. I quit."

"That's so inspiring."

"Thank you."

"Anyway," Zac continued, "this whole dancing murder debacle is very shallow, and I would hate for these three conniving crazies to deprive me of my best friend. I will not allow it. Choose another photo on principle."

"Zac! It's just a-"

"C'mon. Choose another photo," he said firmly.

"Fine!" I flicked through my gallery again. "Here."

Zac looked at the photo, then looked at me. "Tell me, dear friend — how intoxicated were you in this photo? Everyone already knows you have a resting smiling face, but when I see a derpy grin that big, it means you've been on the sauce for a while."

"Excuse me!" I frowned. "I don't have a 'resting smiling face.' I happen to have an extensive range of emotions." I contorted my face into different expressions.

"Nikki," Zac sighed. "I've known you for eight long years. That's eight years of my life that I cannot get back, and eight years of things that I cannot unsee. One of those things is your face, and the fact that you always smile. You're fucking sunshine and rainbows. You're a happy puppy dog. I've mentally documented the various smiles of Nikki and what they mean. The smile in that photo means you've been drinking gin and tonic all day, and it's all starting to catch up with you."

"Impressive," I mused. "But maybe you only ever see me when I'm smiling. Maybe I don't hang out with people when I'm not smiling. Maybe your data is subject to selection bias. Maybe it's all an illusion."

"Nah," Zac replied. "I've lived with you for ages. You definitely have a resting smiling face."

I shrugged. "Anyway, that's one of my close friends in the photo, Ned. I've probably been friends with him for the same amount of time as you, or even longer. Actually, he's the guy who took the boat out on the harbor last weekend. I invited you, but you decided to stay home and eat fairy bread by yourself-"

"No, I didn't. I had something else-"

"Yes, you did!"

"No, I didn't."

"If by 'No, I didn't,' you mean 'Yes, I did', then you are correct."

Zac rolled his eyes. "You're so annoying."

"Just annoyingly accurate. Now, referring back to Exhibit A…" I gestured towards the image of Ned and me. "In this particular photo, we were quite intoxicated from the day's shenanigans and dancing to an awesome cover band. We ended up going skinny dipping in the harbor at two a.m after the venue shut."

"At Redleaf?"

"Always," I replied. Redleaf was a hidden harbor-side beach tucked away behind an old library up the road. You'd completely miss it if you didn't know it was there. Zac and I spent many nights at Redleaf when we were younger, watching the city twinkle on the horizon as we made grand plans for all the great adventures we were going to have in our life; all the places we'd go; all the things we'd do and see and create and achieve.

"Anyway," I continued. "Let's pretend that Ned and I have a falling out, and I want to eliminate all evidence of him from my life. I have this photo stored on a physical piece of camera film. I get out my scissors and cut the film in half. Ned is now in one half of the negative, and I am in the other. Then I throw the half containing Ned into a fire."

"Savage," Zac smirked.

"No, it's just necessary. I destroy Ned's half, so I am only left with my half. Then I go and print out the photo again with just me in it."

"That's a pretty sad thing to do, Nikki. Why don't you just take new photos?"

"Oh my God! It's an analogy, okay?"

Zac pulled a face.

"You need to realize that information is stored locally in a photo. By that, I mean, I can cut Ned out of the negative and never have to look at him again. That's because the information containing Ned is stored in a particular location in the negative.

But now, let's do the same thing with a hologram. Let's pretend this photograph is actually a three-dimensional hologram encoded on this sheet of holographic film." I held up the sheet of paper we were using earlier. "I'm furious at Ned, so I cut this holographic sheet in half to get rid of any evidence that he was ever in my life. Then I throw his half in the fire." I ripped the paper in half on an angle, separating Ned from myself.

"But now," I said as I held up the remaining half of the holographic film parallel to the ground. "If I were to shine a laser through this piece of film, I would expect to see only myself because I just got rid of Ned's half. Instead, I shine the laser through the film, and the entire image unfolds — Ned and myself."

"What!?" Zac said, stunned.

"I know! Because here's the thing about holograms — the information is stored non-locally. If you look at this holographic film, there is no separation between Ned and me and everyone in the background. The information that represents all of these separate objects is stored everywhere, in a lower-dimensional format. It is impossible to separate anything from anything else. At the deeper level of reality in the holographic film, there is no such thing as Ned or Nikki. We are both the same one thing. Make sense?"

Zac nodded.