Whisper
Posted: December 24th, 2004, 5:53 pm
The physics of discovery are not covered in any manual. It is an island occupied by many single souls reaching for the unseen. Sometimes the grasp exceeds the reach.
We don't need science or science fiction to describe aliens. In the strictest sense, we are all that. Only a common locus contrived to put us each in view.
At an unseen point near you, there rests a veil of strangeness. A place where what isn't here arrives. Aliens and everything come from there. This is a point I have pondered upon for years.
From nowhere, all becomes here. From here, we can't get nowhere.
This is a place so small it defines a set of rules that defy definition. Many have tried to visit. None have succeeded.
A few have glimpsed it's vagueness. That's been the best done. After all, it is nowhere. How could one snap a picture or bring it back alive to show friends? The amount of detail readily available today stops at the electron level and traces of traces on scientifically notated photographic plates.
Pictures and conjectures aside, there is one path to the hazy border. Numbers. Little scribbles on napkins open a pathway heavy with the lingering odor of single malt that speak to me of afar.
After years of searching, I still can't see nowhere. But I may be the first man on Earth to hear it. A sound to humble thunder. The first whisper from nowhere.
We don't need science or science fiction to describe aliens. In the strictest sense, we are all that. Only a common locus contrived to put us each in view.
At an unseen point near you, there rests a veil of strangeness. A place where what isn't here arrives. Aliens and everything come from there. This is a point I have pondered upon for years.
From nowhere, all becomes here. From here, we can't get nowhere.
This is a place so small it defines a set of rules that defy definition. Many have tried to visit. None have succeeded.
A few have glimpsed it's vagueness. That's been the best done. After all, it is nowhere. How could one snap a picture or bring it back alive to show friends? The amount of detail readily available today stops at the electron level and traces of traces on scientifically notated photographic plates.
Pictures and conjectures aside, there is one path to the hazy border. Numbers. Little scribbles on napkins open a pathway heavy with the lingering odor of single malt that speak to me of afar.
After years of searching, I still can't see nowhere. But I may be the first man on Earth to hear it. A sound to humble thunder. The first whisper from nowhere.
