Limitless

[minor but big picture spoilers]

Last week I saw the movie Limitless with my pal. I was honestly shocked; it was a much better movie than I was anticipating. Yes, it had some stupid and unnecessary violence and some stupid and unnecessary sex, but what it did have was ideas. Science fiction ideas, the kind of ideas you read about in a Philip K. Dick or Michael Crichton novel. (It’s actually based on the 2001 novel The Dark Fields by Alan Glynn.)

You probably know the set-up. Lovable loser Eddie Morra is a down-on-his-luck writer. Defeated by mental blocks, his publisher threatens to call in his advance. His girlfriend / bank dumps him and his landlord itches to kick him out on the street because he can’t pay the rent. One random day sadsack bumps into his old brother-in-law – yes, the only women he’s ever loved divorced him – an unsavory character who happens to be ... a drug dealer.

Brother-in-law is hawking a new type of drug. Right off the pharmaceutical company’s experimental drug assembly line. Allegedly it enables you to use 100% of your brain, percentages based on the old wives tale we only use 20% of our brains (the figure I recall hearing ages ago was 5%). So, what the heck, there’s nothing left to lose. Just pop that experimental drug into your mouth and see what happens.

Here’s where the movie shines. The drug, known as NZT, enables you to see everything “clear.” Thirty seconds after ingestion, you have access to everything you’ve ever seen, read, heard, done. You can make the connections instantaneously. You see the big picture. Everything around you is in slow-motion, and you’re in comfortable confident overdrive. And, apparently, you have boundless energy, because, I guess, gifted with such visioneering capabilities, who would want to sleep?

The movie details Eddie’s rise to the top. Yes, he finishes his novel in four days, and it’s a revolutionary sort of work. He gets a loan from his generic neighborhood Russian mob guy and transforms $12,000 to $2.3 million in ten days trading stocks. Swarms of interesting people flock to him at cocktail parties. Connections are made. Our boy soon comes to the attention of Karl Van Loon, DeNiro’s character, a smorgasbord of corporate tycoons with shades of Trump, Bloomberg, Soros, and the cigar-chomping financiers of the 18th century. He also has to deal with the Russian mafia, and there’s a monkey wrench thrown into things when that neighborhood mobster ingests one of Eddie’s pills and becomes supersmart himself.

I recommend the movie wholeheartedly. The special effects were very interesting; Eddie’s vastly increased mental capabilities were represented visually in an entertaining way. Particularly those long, telescoping sidewalk shots (you’ll know what I’m talking about if/when you see the movie) meant to convey the memoryless movement of large chunks of time. Yes, it was violent, but no more than yer average 2011 R-rated movie. I suppose it added an element of danger to the flick, especially when Ed’s girl is being pursued by a menacing, knife-wielding baddie. Even better, though, are the mental chess games that are played for very high stakes between the main characters. That’s where the movie’s best, I think, and could be better.

Now: let’s personalize this a bit, shall we? I have to admit more than a passing identification with the character of Eddie. Pre-NZT Eddie, that is. If I had made but two or three decisions differently a decade ago, I’d be exactly in his shoes. So when the whole concept of NZT was introduced in the flick, my mind, too, raced, and I completely sympathized with Eddie and his decision to swallow the clear gelatinous pill.

What would you do under the influence of such a pharmacopia? It’s vaguely posited in the movie that one’s potential is dependent on the degree of intelligence one brings to the table. Whatever that means. I suppose the “smarter” you are, the wilder your dreams and the better equipped you are to attain them. The film does mention Eddie’s quest for his “great vision”, i.e., that he needs money money money to attain it, but I’m not sure what exactly that vision was, save for him running for higher office.

What would I do? Well, for starters, I’d do what Eddie did not do, at least initially. I’d turn my attention on NZT. What is it? How is it made? Are there any negative side effects? Then I’d take care of business: assure my supply if it had to be a pill, and eliminate any side effects. I wouldn’t contract with the mafia under any circumstances, and if I had to, I’d checkmate them out of the story early using my vast mental and physical abilities.

I would finance myself with book sales. I’d write what would sell, sell it, and reap the profits. NZT would help with this, giving me the far-seeing sight. Once I had financial independence, then I would spend some time (or a handful of pills) exploring what to explore next. This list, which I came up with during my etude on solitary confinement, would be a good starting point:


1. Reconcile quantum physics with general relativity

2. Solve the Riemann hypothesis predicting the distribution of prime numbers

3. Master Aquinian philosophy and theology and apply it to today’s society

4. Completely map out the human consciousness a la Husserl and his phenomenology

5. Memorize the Catholic Bible verse-by-verse and understand it spiritually, metaphysically, historically, anthropologically, symbolically, and as literature

6. As a corollary to #5, master Latin, ancient Greek, Hebrew, and Aramaic

7. Compose a dozen symphonies synthesizing the ideas and motifs of Sibelius, Dvorak, Brahms, and Wagner (good luck with that!) and striving beyond them

8. Study the art and science of English poetry – Shakespeare, Donne, Byron, Keats, Shelly, Tennyson, Browning, et al, and after at least a decade, try my own hand at it


I think the greatest temptation would be the temptation to become a god. If not actually becoming one, then thinking I was one. Pride goeth before a fall and all that. Maybe I’d print up a hundred little cards and post them all over my mansion, each one reminding me of Spiderman’s philosophic catch-phrase: With great power comes great responsibility. The biggest concern, no doubt, would be what should be done with NZT. Should it be kept only for myself? Kept for a select group of like-minded individuals? Destroyed permanently and irrevocably? Dumped in the water supply? I don’t have any answers to these, but I would put them in prominent placement on the Agenda.

So I guess the best compliment I can pay those behind Limitless is that it made me think, and kept me thinking. Me and my friend chatted the possibilities on the ride home. The wife and I discussed it, too, and here I am, writing about it.

Let me end on one thought. I do believe we have access to NZT, right now. But it’s not a pill, and it most certainly doesn’t act in 30 seconds. Nor does it allow us access to “100%” of our brain. Now don’t think me loopy, but based on all the smatterings I’ve read (actually, all the smatterings I’ve read that I remember), I think you can maybe double your brain usage by following the following prescription: a raw vegan diet, an hour of cardio daily, Zen meditation, lots of premeditated autosuggestioning, and an intricate, well-thought-out, well-planned Goals List. Consistently follow this for 365 days, and when comparing the Now You with the Year-Ago You you’ll be convinced that NZT is some way shape or form exists.