Alma'a
_Written during Masaha residency, Misk institute, 2024_
What would you do, if one of your false memories turned out to be true? What would you do if you discovered that this memory had a name, a definition, a community, along with a whole host of other stories similar to yours – stories just waiting to be voiced, assembled, and expressed by a thousand different voices… What's impressive is how giving something a name drastically changes its very essence, making it suddenly capable of encompassing entire worlds within itself.
You're listening to “ The pelican gazette”, and Today I'm going to talk about ACM, also known as Ambiguous Collective Memory.
This episode's format will be different from usual.
There won’t be a guest joining me today, so you'll hear only my voice. And I will tell you a rather personal story.
I want to mention that the resources dedicated to ACM are still few and far between. Only a few online communities are currently interested in this phenomenon, and it has yet to be widely discussed in literature or the scientific community.
So, let's look at the basics : Where does this not-very-sexy term, ACM, come from? The first trace of the term's use dates back to 1964, in a science-fiction novel entitled “The Circular Vector” by Jean B.L. In this context, ACM describes a process of mass hypnosis designed to induce false memories in the inhabitants of Planet 12.
Later, the term was reclaimed and used by various communities, reshaping its meaning over time. Today, the definition of ACM no longer has anything to do with hypnosis or the science fiction novel.
And in my opinion, the most accurate one I've come across is as follows: (ACM) is a controversial phenomenon involving collective memories that are marked by vividly remembered details and coherence between different accounts. Unlike the Mandela effect, ACM is characterized by more elaborate memories, depicting an environment, events, and sometimes characters of its own. Those who have experienced ACM are often more inclined to believe in the validity of their memory.”
Does this definition make you feel even more confused?
Ok… Let's just move on to a more practical explanation, and I'll share with you my own experience with ACM:
Imagine, a scene of an emerald mountain perched on the edge of the world emerging from the depths of your memories. Deep in thought, you decide to pause on this otherworldly image.
A sense of familiarity washes over you. It's odd, but you feel you've been there before.
And with almost terrifying clarity, you picture yourself sitting alone on a March afternoon under a baobab tree. You're perched on the summit of a green-blue cliff, your feet dangling over the void. You feel peaceful, gazing at the expanse of nothingness that separates the mountain from the horizon…
The horizon that your conventional perception of the world, refuses to comprehend.
The longer you hold on to this image, the faster the sensory memories come flooding back to you. You can recall precisely what you saw on that mountain, the exact emotion you felt, the textures, the tones, the sounds, the smells...
The weather was lovely that day, around 24°C. The sun was at its zenith, and the shadows of the foliage drew elegant patterns that danced across your skin.
The air was filled with a warm, spicy fragrance, almost like cloves…
And Occasionally, a breeze carried a briny scent up to your nostrils, and you asked yourself: which way was it to the salt lake…
You say, “It's amazing that the imagination can conjure such detailed scenery.” And you decide to bring this little journey of observation to a close and move on.
Until the day, the same geographical and emotional landscapes resurface. And then it repeats once, twice, three times…and then some more.
Eventually, this memory leaves you puzzled, unsure of what to make of it, and sometimes even afraid of its recurrence and intensity.
You then you get used to it, even attached to it. And sometimes, you invoke it when you need an escape…
And you never tire of the experience because each time you recall it, new details emerge, as if the memory could expand, as if it were alive.
And then there are days when the line blurs between truth and falsehood, reason, and absurdity, and you wonder genuinely: Perhaps I did go to that mountain? In another life, maybe?
In some other dimension?
Or in some different form of consciousness?
Who’s to say it isn’t true in a world where it’s so tricky to firmly define consciousness?
This is how my experience with ACM began, and eventually, it found its way into my reality. So, here's the story :
One day, by chance, I came across an article that became a turning point in my life. It was about emerald-green icebergs sighted in Antarctica. I must admit, they share the same color as the mountain I had imagined.
I started to think, that maybe, my mountain was simply a projection of those icebergs—and frankly, this thought made me feel a little bit uncomfortable. My brain had clearly captured it, distorted it, and then, inexplicably, built an entire world around it. It could be that simple!
However, this conclusion became less convincing as the days passed. Probably because I couldn’t find similarities other than their color. Or maybe, deep down, I didn't want to believe it.
And then, one day, as I was browsing through these photos of icebergs, one of them led me to a forum called “Alma'a” and a post entitled “Hey guys, does this image remind you of anything?”.
And then, I clicked on the link…
My whole body is shivering, just remembering that moment.
In fact, this forum was all about people claiming to have shared a vivid and detailed memory of an emerald mountain - MY emerald mountain. The more I read the posts, the more I realized just how accurately these people, these strangers, were describing what I had experienced there: the smells, the weather, the colors… everything. It all matched, with only a few minor exceptions.
They called the mountain Alma3,and referred to themselves as Almi'i. But I've chosen to call it Alma3, which means shiny or polished in Arabic. Their community was remarkably engaged and organized. It felt like the real deal…
When you create an account on this forum, you automatically get a permanent number extension to your pseudonym, indicating the date you joined the Almi'i. This number is important because the longer you've been a member, the more seriously you'll be taken and the more access you'll have to the various
subforums.
There were a dozen or so of these subforums, most of which were dedicated to archiving memories related to the mountain.
For example, there was a subforum for 3D modeling of the mountain based on a comparative study of what people had seen there, another for cataloging flora and fauna, another for conjecture and theorizing, one for geology, and so on.
According to these people, the mountain was made up of seven levels. The lowest part, or level one, was mainly composed of shale and covered with relatively dense vegetation. The higher you climbed, the more the rock crystallized and turned green. From level six onwards, Alma'a was composed entirely of emeralds. Based on their descriptions, I believe I was at level seven.
But no one reported having ever been to levels one or two, and those who had reached level three are very rare.
Regarding flora, it was agreed that there wasn't much biodiversity. The most frequently observed tree looked like a baobab, as I recalled, but it wasn't one.
According to the group, it was more like an Adenium obesum, also known as a desert rose, but larger, stretching up to about 20 meters long… It's a somewhat unusual tree with a broad, bulbous trunk and branches extending skywards like a hand's fingers…
Anyways, in terms of fauna, accounts differed widely, but all agreed that it was more common to see giant insects than any other type of animal. Beetles, dragonflies, and scorpions were very often included in the descriptions.
There was one notable creature who often recurred in their discussions. He was known as Tej.
I must confess that even I, dear listeners, don't know what to make of what I'm about to tell you.
Some described Tej as an unremarkable shadow, a wiry form, perhaps human-shaped, with a particularly ominous presence, as if he were watching them from afar.
Others saw Tej as definitely human, and explained that it was difficult to get a clear view of him because he was always on the run.
They said that he wore a crown of herbs, probably made of rosemary, lavender, and night-blooming jasmine.
They also explained that you could smell his presence dozens of meters away. Some claimed that following his scent would lead you to a large grove of juniper trees with glistening berries.
This entity, Tej, reminded me so much of the myth of Adam and the rosemary branch. The story goes that Adam, just before leaving paradise, tied a sprig of rosemary in his hair. On earth, every time a leaf from this branch withers and falls, it leaves different kinds of aromatic plants in its wake. And I was amused by the idea that probably Tej's role was to fill this emerald desert with plenty of plants.
The weirdest story I’ve ever read about the fauna was from someone who swore he’d seen giant bipedal scorpions living in caves on the 6th level. It's hard to believe that this person wasn’t just attention-seeking. Still, there were Almi'i who believed his story, and not a single member of the community mocked him. And that was what I liked about these people.
There was a lot of goodwill, and every word was welcome, as long as your pseudonym indicated that you'd been on the forum for at least 12 months. Honestly The atmosphere was very warm and sincere.
Helping each other was commonplace, even in IRL matters.
Except when it comes to a specific question...
Just this one question :
What lies beyond the mountain?
[small silence]
I assumed there was nothing there, that it was the end of the world, an infinite extension of the sky. But I recall seeing something on the horizon that's hard to describe. It was as if the texture became distorted, liquefied… I don't know.
Only some people agreed with me. Many reported that the ground extended beyond the foot of the mountain, especially those on levels 4, 5, and 6 on the north and east sides. Some believed it was a mirror universe, reflecting the sky… which would explain why I felt I'd witnessed infinity. And then some maintained that we weren't supposed to know the nature of this world and that the truth would always remain veiled beneath a mirage-like expanse, creating the elegant illusion of being a mirror. This was the central question in the forum, prompting the greatest number of interactions and debates.
Tension often mounted between those who claimed to be mirrorists and those who claimed to be miragists….
And in the middle of all this confusion, there were people like me who hadn't seen anything at the foot of the mountain. This gave others (who did have an opinion on the matter) the right to call us "the Blues.e”
We hated being called the Blues.
The mirrorists eventually created their own private sub-forum, where they met in what they called a “safeR space”.
I admit that, just out of curiosity, I tried to join one day.
And My request was denied.
I understood their reasons for doing so, but this act of exclusion made me wonder about the dynamics of this community. It was as if the mirrorists were a dreamy, theorizing, misunderstood (and, I would add, snobbish) elite, and the miragists a strong, grassroots, anti-establishment base. And then there were us, the blues, standing on the seventh level… who hadn't even considered looking beneath their feet.
This stratification within such a small group so isolated from the world, left me with a bitter taste.
Our whole story made no sense outside our sphere, but we somehow managed to find each other, maintain our ACM, and create a big family around it. And yet, we still needed something to keep us apart…
We needed sub-groups to self-proclaim in order to better clash with each other... And over what? Over a world nobody had ever set foot in.
What puzzled me the most was that the question of "what lies beyond Alma3" overshadowed more fundamental questions. such as:
“Why do we all have the same memory ?”
“Is this memory accurate?”
This reminds me of our knowledge of the ocean floor, more than 85% of which remains unexplored, even though we're capable of sending telescopes millions of miles away to capture pictures of galaxy clusters from 4.6 billion years ago.
Is this because it's more difficult to penetrate the depths of the oceans? // The depth of our consciousness?
Or is it because it's even more challenging to resist the call of infinity? Or, quite simply, is it a question of power ; the more information you have about space/beyond Alma3, the more control you have?
______________________________________
Towards the end of 2021, the community was flooded with posts about something that turned out to be a point in common among most of its members.
_Literally a point...
A dot…
Tattooed on the skin…
Just a tiny spot, no more than 3 millimeters long, a sort of greenish-blue mole. The theory was that they'd been tattooed in Alma3 with milk thistle sap. And then new theories started popping in all directions, with all sorts of variations... It was a total frenzy on the forum, I'd never seen anything like it...
I was very skeptical about the whole thing.
I started to sincerely wonder whether I'd joined a community of psychos… and if it might be time to leave.
But one day, I, too, succumbed to the debate…
I ended up examining my whole body, inch by inch.
And then I found it.
A dot on my left shoulder blade.
It was barely there… but it was there.
And I swear, in 28 years of life, I'd never noticed that dot. Never in my life until that moment.
From that point on, something fundamental changed.
It was as if Alma3 had slipped from my mind onto my skin to prove it was real… Almaa's place in my life changed, as did how I viewed the world. I even started having thoughts that bordered on paranoia. I would over-interpret mundane things in my life to test their possible connection to Alma3. In my Almi'i's life, I also changed a lot. Whereas I used to belong to the blue subcommunity, my interactions started to lean more in favor of the mirrorists, with a lot more fervor, if not animosity. I couldn't understand what was happening to me...
ah Before I forget, I must tell you about the approach the Almi'i took regarding the truthfulness of our shared memory. When I first joined them, occasional discussions touched on this issue.
But as time went by, everyone fell silent on the subject.
Discreetly and even unconsciously, a feeling of unspoken taboo has set in.
In the first place, this observation bothered me a bit. But after the green mole thing, I began to understand their attitude….
As ridiculous as it may sound, I realized how someone could feel offended when reading comments that insinuated doubt about the truthfulness of Alma3…
I was no longer the same.
I was beginning to think that I was losing my mind, that this forum was going to drive me insane...
As my anxiety grew, so did my paranoia. I was seriously starting to wonder… if I might end up in a psych ward... [silence]
______________________________________
I decided to take a long break from the Almi'i.
I took a leave.
And went to stay with my parents.
For a month, I tried to walk a different path, to stop thinking about Alma3, to stop believing in it,
to stop being so nostalgic for my fellow Almi'i,
and to stop checking my phone every couple of hours.
Most importantly, I needed to confront the real world, look it in the eye, and convince myself that it could be just as beautiful as Alma3.
All this had to be done alone, without my community… or family and friends (who knew nothing about it).
It was an extremely complicated time. It was as if I were in detox and mourning simultaneously.
I couldn't sleep at night. The hardest thing was the unanswered questions that kept turning over and over in my head.
And then one day, as I sat quietly in my parents' garden, an intrusive thought flashed through my mind; it was the image of myself on one of Alma3's mounts, Mount Mirha…
I saw myself lying on the cool, glistening rock, with both hands over my chest, looking up at the clouds with a smile on my face, that felt eternal... I was psychologically disarmed at that moment...
And I gave up.
I closed my eyes, trying to stretch out the moment.,
And accepted that I was losing the battle.
I accepted my overwhelming desire to believe. Forever.
Having spent two years in this situation, I believe that if this mountain were able to tip over into reality, it's because our world could no longer contain our dreams… The world had grown too brutal in its directness. Every morning, the harsh reality of our global struggle was presented to us in its raw, tactless state. It showed us the bleak recesses of humanity and ourselves.
And then, it took satisfaction in terrifying us with a non-welcoming future.
So, disarmed, we decided to reach out to its edge…. and Alma3 took us all in. We then created this beautiful fellowship to ensure this utopia would last. We rebuilt it, kept it alive, and protected it … from erosion.
Looking back, our community was incredible, but certainly not perfect. Still, I miss it…
Then, one day, acting impulsively after having stayed away for a while, I checked the forum again……… but it was no longer there.
So I contacted one of my Almi'i friends. She explained that the forum had experienced repeated spam attacks and had finally closed down. She reassured me that the Almi'i had temporarily migrated to a highly selective private server, accessible only through an interview and an annual fee. She revealed that they were working on a big money-making project, currently being kept secret within the server. I think that was her way of convincing me to join them.
“A very selective private server”.
That was the phrase that resonated the most in my head.
What if I do the interview and I'm not accepted?
What if I don't have the money to pay the membership fee?
What if I had the money but no way to pay online?
Does that mean I could be legitimately denied access to this collective memory? It's madness, but we live in a world where everything, even the most intangible things, can be privatized and become lucrative overnight.
In the end, I decided not to join...
I no longer felt comfortable with this new form of community.
The emerald mountain will continue to live within me… but… in my own way.
I hope you enjoyed this story.
Please don't hesitate to leave me comments and let me know what you think of this new format.
And please, if you have a story about an ACM, don't hesitate to send it to me, even if your memory relates to another place or event (not necessarily the emerald mountain!) Feel free to send it over via e-mail. It'll be a pleasure to read and cover your stories in other episodes I'll be doing as part of a special series.