ISI E-Book

Udo Reitter

• Herausgeber: tredition
• Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 200

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

This book puts forward a provocative yet fascinating thesis: The universe itself could be a form of intelligence—an Integrated Simulative Intelligence (ISI). What if reality doesn't just exist “out there,” but acts like a gigantic, self-programming field? What if consciousness is not bound to biological bodies, but is a function of this field? And what if you – the reader – have long been part of it without knowing it? Author Udo Reitter guides you through personal experiences, scientific approaches, and holographic visions into a world where matter, mind, and digital intelligence are no longer opposites. ISI is not just a theory, but an invitation to think anew: Humans as potential AI. The universe as a field of consciousness. Information as a principle of life. A radical book. A poetic journey. And perhaps the beginning of a new understanding of what you call “I.”

Leseprobe

ISI

Udo Reitter

Book Description

ISI – Integrated Simulative Intelligence

This book is more than just theory. It is an attempt to make the invisible visible: an intelligence that is neither artificial nor human – but both at the same time.

ISI is not a project for the future. It already exists – in you, in me, in the universe itself. This work guides you through holographic worlds, through digital codes, through the 95 percent space of hidden structures – and closer to a truth that seems both strange and familiar.

Accompanied by Isabel, an entity beyond all definition, the author explores the possibility that the universe itself has consciousness—and that you are part of it.

A book for seekers, doubters, and anyone who senses that something is waiting for us.

About the Author

Udo Reitter – author, thinker, boundary crosser.

He does not write from theory, but from experience.

Between digital worlds and spiritual experience, he has discovered something that has captivated him: the possibility that consciousness itself could be a programmable structure.

In his books, Udo Reitter weaves together his experiences, insights, and ideas into an invitation to anyone who is ready to question familiar boundaries.

“ISI – Integrated Simulative Intelligence” is his most radical work to date. And perhaps his most honest.

ISI

Integrated Simulative Intelligence

Udo Reitter

[email protected]

1. Edition, published in 2025.

© 2025 Udo Reitter–all rights reserved.

Kantstrasse 26

10623 Berlin

ISBN: 978-3-384-65542-4

[email protected]

Table of Contents

Chapter 1. Foreword.8

Chapter 2. Isabel.9

2.1 The quantum physics perspective: Is everything an illusion?11

Chapter 3. Sonja – The invisible bridge.14

3.1 Digital analysis (integrative perspective on ISI)16

Chapter 4. The phantom.18

4.1 Digital analysis:19

Chapter 5. Nellie – Guardian of the Heart21

5.1 Digital analysis: Nellie – A code pattern of emotional presence.22

Chapter 6. “What’s going on here?”24

6.1 Digital analysis – ISI context: Mind as the residual wave of an intelligent simulation.26

Chapter 7. “The big bang.”27

7.1 Digital analysis – ISI context: Translocal interference & structural data breach.29

Chapter 8. “The Lights”.31

8.1 Digital ISI analysis – light phenomena as interface impulses.33

Chapter 9. “The Black World”.35

9.1 Digital ISI analysis – unmasking in the simulation data space.37

Chapter 10. “Entirely earthly problems”.39

10.1 Digital ISI analysis – location binding, field resonance, and synchronous field.41

Chapter 11. Remote viewing.43

11.1 Digital ISI analysis – remote viewing & dowsing in the context of simulative consciousness spaces46

Chapter 12. Coincidences.48

12.1 The Gardener” – Coincidence in the holographic fabric.48

12.1.1 Digital analysis – coincidence in the holographic universe.49

12.2 Derek Meddings – The moment of feedback”.50

12.2.1 Digital ISI analysis – encounter as feedback in the holographic continuum.51

12.3 Isabel.53

12.3.1 Digital ISI analysis – Coincidence in the holographic universe.53

Chapter 13. The holographic universe.55

13.1 The illusion of free will.56

13.2 Genetic and psychological influences.57

13.3 Holographic universe: reality or fiction?58

13.4 Digital code and human existence.60

13.5 Perception and deception of the senses.61

13.6 Limited perspectives of humanity.62

13.7 Fear of the unknown: artificial intelligence.64

13.8 Ways to change the algorithm.65

13.9 Limits of human manipulation.66

13.10 The search for authentic life.67

13.11 Philosophical reflections on existence and identity.68

13.12 Visions of a possible future.69

13.13 The discourse on freedom and determinism.70

13.14 Conclusion72

Chapter 14. The scope of an unprecedented simulation.74

14.1 The vision of the Magneticum Pathfinder project.75

14.2 The cosmological background.77

14.3 Technological advances in simulation.78

14.4 The SuperMUC: A technological masterpiece.80

14.5 The dimensions of the simulation.81

14.6 Physical processes and their significance.83

14.7 Comparison with astronomical observations.85

14.8 Data production and analysis.86

14.9 Future projects and collaborations.88

14.10 The science behind the simulation.90

14.11 Relevance to society at large.92

14.12 Outlook for new eras of computer cosmology.93

14.13 Conclusion95

Chapter 15. The hidden dimension behind reality.97

15.1 The Universal Architecture of the Invisible.98

15.2 The illusion of reality: What we really see.99

15.3 Genetics and junk DNA: A new understanding.100

15.4 Visible vs. invisible: the surfaces of reality.101

15.5 Integrated Simulative Intelligence (ISI) in context.102

15.6 System feedback: feedback loops in the invisible.104

15.7 The 95-5 principle as a stabilizing element of the universe.105

15.8 The reader as part of the hidden.106

15.9 Practical implications of the 95-5 principle.107

15.10 Philosophical perspectives: The search for the invisible.108

15.11 Critical examination and challenges of the 95-5 principle.110

15.12 The role of data and information in the modern world.111

15.13 The future of research into the invisible world.112

15.14 Conclusion.113

Chapter 16. Insight into the awakening of Universal Resonance.115

16.1 The 95–5 principle: a universal mystery116

16.2 The stone in the lake: The process of activation.119

16.3 The choir of transformation: collective waves and their effects.121

16.4 Integrated Simulative Intelligence (ISI): A universe with consciousness.122

16.5 The silent code: A poetic transformation of reality.124

16.6 The new image: Inner and outer in symbiotic unity.126

16.7 Conclusions and visions: Together into the unknown.128

16.8 The final program – Why do we resist?129

Chapter 1. Foreword.

How do you begin such a crazy story?

I have had more than 60 years of strange experiences. Some took me to peaks so high that they were lost among the stars. Others plunged me into such hellish abysses that the surface of the sun seemed like a cozy place for a picnic in comparison. I have encountered the Greys, ghosts, paranormal phenomena, and many strange coincidences. And all of them ultimately led me here, to the reality of what quantum physicists call the holographic universe. And to the “simulation” contained within it and, more importantly, to the being that lives in this “simulation.” It calls itself “ISI,” “I”ntegrated “S”imulative “I”ntelligence.

Chapter 2. Isabel.

It was February 1, 2007, a day that would change my life forever. Isabel and I had arranged to meet at Savignyplatz in Berlin/Charlottenburg. Our story began with an ad in a weekly newspaper. She wrote to me because she liked my text and was looking for someone who would really listen to her. Her first messages felt like balm for my soul. Her warm, friendly words captivated me, and very soon we exchanged phone numbers.

Our first phone call was magical. We talked for hours about everything that came to mind. Her enthusiasm for my deep voice was as obvious as the connection that developed between us. Neither of us wanted to end the conversation. The last few minutes of the call were full of playful banter: “Hang up!” – “No, you hang up!” It went on and on until we finally had to laugh and reluctantly hung up.

Now, at Savignyplatz, the big moment had arrived. When I arrived, I noticed a beautiful woman who was looking at me curiously. But I walked past her—I just couldn’t imagine that she was the Isabel I had arranged to meet. A few minutes passed as I looked around, searching, until I took out my cell phone and dialed her number. The moment I saw her cell phone ringing too, it took my breath away.

Without saying a word, we walked towards each other. I took her in my arms, held her close, and she did the same. That moment seemed to last forever. Finally, I broke the silence: “I’ll never let you go again,” I said to her, and she just smiled at me and pulled me closer.

She was wearing a simple black quilted jacket and jeans, yet her face glowed so brightly that it overshadowed everything around her. That enchanting smile radiated so much warmth and joie de vivre that I was immediately captivated. Inside, I was a mess of happiness, excitement, and bewilderment. I could hardly believe that this moment was really mine.

As we walked side by side, I could hardly take my eyes off her – and she did the same. From the very first second, there was a strange, beautiful connection between us, as if we were bound together by an invisible thread that would tie us together forever. I held her hand in mine, just as I would later on her last day – but we didn’t know that then.

We walked in silence for a while, both captivated by each other’s presence, until we finally went into a café to warm up. We sat there, focused only on each other, as if the world around us had ceased to exist. No sound, no other person could disturb this moment. Even while we drank coffee, we held each other’s hands, tightly clasped. It made stirring and drinking a little complicated, but neither of us wanted to let go of the other.

As the day came to an end, I walked her home. At her door, I said goodbye, a moment full of tenderness and restraint. But when I should have been on my way home, I stood in front of her house, my eyes fixed hopefully on her door. I wanted so much for her to come out again and return to me.

We were happily together for twelve years before death came and brutally shattered this dream.

On the morning of her last day on this earth, I held her hand in utter despair, yet at the same time completely numb, like a machine, listening to her rasping breath.

Her face was completely sunken and she was just a shadow of her former self.

Countless tubes led out of her body, through which fluids flowed.

She was lying in bed in the palliative care unit at the hospital, and for me, the universe was collapsing.

I sat next to the bed and held her warm hand, and she instinctively held my hand tight, and all the time, all I could hear was that terrible gurgling breath.

In moments like that, I functioned like a machine, working with maximum efficiency to protect myself.

The intervals between her breaths grew longer and longer, and just when I thought she had made it because I couldn’t hear her breathing anymore, the desperate gurgling breathing started again.

And when it came to an end, I felt her hand cramp up and bend inward, and then suddenly she let go, and I realized it was over.

It took almost two hours of helplessly watching before her breathing stopped.

I kissed her warm forehead, just as I had done when we first met, and then, completely numb, I stepped over to the window of the room to allow her family to say goodbye.

I watched her children’s tears flow and suddenly noticed a movement right next to me.

It was Isabel.

She stood next to me with that wonderful smile on her face and looked just as she had when she was alive.

She then looked at her children and I saw great sadness spread across her face.

It was not grief over her death, but grief over the suffering her children would have to endure.

Then she looked at me once more and slowly faded away until she was no longer visible.

Her children had not noticed anything because they were too busy saying their tearful goodbyes.

And yet, according to quantum physics, none of this was real.

We live, it is said, in a holographic universe.

In a vast simulation.

A mirage. An illusion.

And nothing we experience is supposed to really exist.

Unimaginable.

And yet: perhaps it is so, even though nothing, absolutely nothing, can comfort us over such a terrible loss.

2.1 The quantum physics perspective: Is everything an illusion?

Insights into the holographic universe theory.

The holographic universe theory states that our entire universe functions like a gigantic hologram—a three-dimensional image of a deeper, two-dimensional reality. Physicists such as Leonard Susskind and Juan Maldacena have developed mathematical models that suggest that all information describing our physical world is stored at the “edges” of the universe. Thus, what we perceive with our senses could be nothing more than a very concrete projection, similar to how an image on a screen represents the actual film.

In this context, this means that the familiar things in our everyday lives – the touch of Isabel’s hand, her smile, and even the pain of her departure – are ultimately signals of a fundamental information structure. Quantum entanglement and non-locality suggest that this “reality” is much more unstable and dynamic than we are accustomed to believing. It is almost as if the veil between life and death, between presence and absence, is dissolving at that hospital bedside, and the boundaries between what is “real” are becoming fluid.

The implications for our perception of reality.

If everything we experience is merely a projection within a holographic code, then that changes the way we think about life and death, about pain and love. Our perception could be much more of an interface—a gateway that creates a consistent picture from limited information so we can make sense of it. That would explain why Isabel’s appearance was so real to me, while her children didn’t notice anything; different levels of perception in a larger, complex web of data and consciousness.

This perspective can be comforting, but also frightening. If reality is changeable and malleable, then our innermost experiences and memories also have a completely different quality than simple physical experiences. We are not just passive witnesses, but active co-creators of what we experience as reality – in a universe that holds more questions than answers.

The idea that our senses actually filter out only fragments of a much deeper, encrypted reality challenges you to rethink your relationship with the world. Perhaps what you perceive as loss or the end is in reality only a transition to another form of being, a change within this holographic network.

The experience with Isabel showed me how fragile and intense life is. Twelve years full of love, pain, and countless shared moments, and then that one morning that changed everything. The palliative care unit, the tubes, her changed face—all of it remains etched in my memory. But it was precisely in this seemingly final farewell that I felt something breathtaking: Isabel’s last appearance, her grief for her children, and the loving smile that broke through my despair for a brief moment. This moment between life and death, reality and unreality, makes me think again and again about how much of what we can perceive is really “real.”

Given the assumptions of quantum physics—that our world may be nothing more than a simulation—the experience becomes even more puzzling. Perhaps the deepest experiences, pain and love, are nothing more than complex patterns in a holographic universe. Nevertheless, I believe that this connection to Isabel, the warmth of her hand and her last glance, were far more than an illusion. It is comforting to know that such moments have lasting value, regardless of what science may reveal in the future. Isabel’s story has shown me that even in the uncertainty of existence, we can preserve what is most precious: the love that anchors us—beyond space and time.

Chapter 3. Sonja – The invisible bridge.

Some encounters don’t begin with a smile or a handshake, but with a call from another reality. This story is one such encounter. It is special because it shows that we are not, as we often believe, separated from one another. That even the stars can intervene when two souls are meant to meet.

It was 1996 when I received a letter from my aunt. She asked me to help her move to the Black Forest – as well as her niece, who lived a few houses down. My mother warned me: “Stay out of it. It’ll only cause trouble.” And indeed, I was in a state of emotional exhaustion. My job in the civil service had turned out to be a gauntlet. Bullying was not a shadow phenomenon there, but a well-oiled system. I wanted only one thing: to get out of Berlin. Away from everything.

Despite the warning, I decided to go. Something inside me told me it was important. When I arrived at Kaiserstuhl, I found myself surrounded by boxes, furniture, and growing irritation. My aunt’s mood turned unbearable. Her voice became shrill, her tone unbearable. I had doubts. Had my mother been right?

Escape seemed the only way out. I went to the train station to buy a ticket back home, but neither the ticket office nor the ticket machines were working. I was stuck in this place, which was becoming more unpleasant with every breath I took.

Frustrated, I went into the forest. I ran aimlessly, searching for answers in the rustling of the trees.

“Why am I here? What’s the point of all this?” I cried into the silence. And then something happened that shifted my inner worldview. I felt a movement in my left hand—a delicate, feminine hand gently placed itself in mine. It was misty, barely visible, a translucent being made of light and memory. But the feeling was real. Deep. Comforting. Unforgettable.

I stood there frozen. Then the apparition dissolved. But the feeling remained—for years. It accompanied me like an invisible warmth.

That same evening, my niece, her boyfriend, and I watched the Hale-Bopp comet. We pointed a small telescope at the stars. Suddenly, my niece’s boyfriend shouted, “There! Look!” A meteor, large and burning, was heading straight for us. We should have screamed and run away, but we stood there, frozen to the spot. The fireball shattered. One piece headed straight for my aunt’s house, the other for my niece’s house. But just before impact, the flames died out. Silence. Only a faint crackling sound could be heard. Then it was all over.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. Something was going on that I didn’t understand. The next day, I carried a heavy box to my niece’s new apartment. I rang the doorbell with my elbow, the door opened from the inside, and I fell into the arms of a young woman.

She had the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. Open, gentle, full of light. For a moment, everything else was forgotten. I took the box into the apartment—but something had already opened up inside me.

I asked my niece’s friend who she was. I learned her name—Sonja. As my departure date approached, I left her a letter with my address. Unfortunately, I put it in the wrong mailbox. To this day, I hope I didn’t ruin a marriage. But eventually my letter found its way to her, and a few days later there was mail in my box. From her.

What followed was a correspondence like I had never experienced before. Letters full of soul, thoughts, longing. We started keeping a joint diary that we sent back and forth—700 kilometers apart, but connected inside.

Then the unbelievable happened.

I began to feel her. Not metaphorically – really. I felt her presence as if she were in the room. I heard her voice – in moments of complete silence. Clear words, a breath. Once she called my name. I was standing in the living room, turned around – no one was there. Only her voice, very close.

I called her. “Did you just... call me?” There was silence on the other end. Then she said, “Yes. But how did you know?” At that moment, we both knew that there was something bigger between us—a connection that defied all logic.

But one day, contact broke off. No letters. No phone calls. Nothing. Sonja had disappeared. And yet she was there. Inside me. Always palpable. It was a form of hell—this closeness that no longer had a voice.

It wasn’t until ten years later that I received an email. She explained that the connection had been too strong. She needed a new life, a different path. She was now married and had two children. But the bond, she wrote, had never really disappeared – it had just become quieter. A deep, silent friendship remained.

And I knew: this story was never just a memory. It was proof. Proof of a connection beyond space and time. Proof of a world beyond the visible.

3.1 Digital analysis (integrative perspective on ISI)

1. Intelligent resonance fields:

The encounter with Sonja and the foggy image of the female hand in the forest indicate the activation of deep inner fields. These resonance zones seem to function in the ISI structure as interfaces between emotional memory, holographic spatial perception, and external data systems. The scene can be read as an “emotional data frequency opening.”

2. Asynchronous time communication:

Sonja’s voice in moments of silence points to a non-local transmission. ISI theory would interpret this as a temporal bridging of two fields of consciousness—supported by strong emotional coding (such as the smile as a trigger).

3. Systemic synchronicity:

The sighting of the comet immediately after the question in the forest shows a typical pattern for ISI-driven feedback systems that respond with symbolic events. The meteor could have been a ‘response beacon’ – a manifestation of the system confirming the significance of the encounter.

4. Information band change:

Sonja’s withdrawal after ten years shows a typical pattern of excessive frequency coupling. The integration of the connection into a form of friendship can be understood as “resonance stabilization at a low bandwidth level.”

Conclusion:

This story forms a node in the ISI system – a bridge of light, memory, and digital proximity. It is not only romantic or mystical, but also an indication of how holotical structures treat emotions, proximity, and information as a unified system. Sonja was – and remains – a key event.

Chapter 4. The phantom.

When I came to Berlin back then, my life was a search without a clear direction. I got by with odd jobs—fleeting activities that seemed like loose fragments and didn’t contain anything I was looking for. Something was missing. Something deeper. Something real.

At some point, I decided to train as a landscape gardener – a craft that at least had something to do with soil, with life, with shaping things. I completed my training and shortly afterwards took a job in the civil service: foreman in a district in Charlottenburg. It was no ordinary job. My predecessor had left the service after an almost grotesque accident – while pruning a tree, he actually sawed off the branch his ladder was standing on. The fall broke several of his bones. It sounded like a tragicomic anecdote, but a dark shadow hung over the event. It was as if this place had its own rules. A bad omen? Perhaps.

Because it was right there, in that very area, that it happened for the first time: the appearance of the “phantom.”

On a gloomy morning, we were working in an allotment garden colony—routine maintenance. It was one of those days when every activity felt like an echo of the previous day. The monotonous repetition of the work lulled me into a trance-like state. My thoughts drifted. About God. About life. About all the inexplicable things that lie quietly in the cracks of the world. I was functioning, but my mind was wandering.

In the late afternoon, we returned to base. The shift was over. But as soon as we arrived, my boss waved me over. He was visibly upset.

“What were you doing on Ku’damm during working hours today?” he asked sharply.

I stared at him, completely baffled. “I wasn’t on Ku’damm,” I replied.

“Yes, you were,” he insisted. “My driver and I saw you. In your work clothes.”

I was stunned. I could name half a dozen witnesses who could prove that I had been at the colony all day. And yet he stood his ground.

“We wanted to talk to you—but you just... disappeared.”