For some reason you hit a stretch of googling, which makes no sense on the road, a place where you write notes about broken motels and ribbons vanishing into sublime, maybe clever allegories about ravens and hawks if far enough off pavement. But there you were, into back road libraries for a stretch, one of them stashed inside an old tin trailer, eyes stuck to a monitor, beaming in the data, large swigs of cyber grog. Not sure how to use it all, but no doubt it will be cut and pasted, linked and lambasted to pure enlightenment. Messed with your hum a little, but inquiry was never a tidy sort of affair. Odd thing how most of it hit in the empty high desert, but it’s all wired, no place left out of the eye. Odd, the long delay in Nevada, how you couldn’t find a road out of that state, ping ponged from range to range.
Odd, the google binge. Mostly it’s the unlimited power surging from your fingertips. “755,217 results, time: 0.18 seconds.” Whole districts full of servers and circuit impulses lusting after data, and quickly now. They sit there humming, thousands hooked in series, but there’s a heat coming off that array and you need to keep it hosed down. On the road it was a lot of horsepower between your legs, tickling your thighs, but you asked silly questions at every stop.
One time you got interested in what holds the fabric together, all of those careening particles, and you theorized it could be God. And why not? Someone has to hold it all together in the face of all those far-flung idiosyncratic physics, but that was long ago, before your education. So when the “God particle” turned up in the news you expected answers to come like falling dominos, but the questions still roamed realms of mundane profundity, like for example, how do particles acquire mass? And if the universe is the answer, what is the question? Now that’s trite.
Underneath France they built miles of catwalks and rings of super-conducting mega magnets, in hideous tunnels where they will smash particles together more ferociously than ever. Leave it to billions of dollars of science to find answers to a God riddle, not like that Babel Tower this time but inside a particle accelerator, and not just any one but a massive tunnel somewhere deep in the crust, the biggest one yet, like a ducted steel octopus Star Trek nightmare, chasing something so infinitesimal and fundamental to the understanding of matter, and bored with the state of things.
the God particle
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constantine
- Posts: 2677
- Joined: March 9th, 2008, 9:45 am
hey mnaz..., have you read, The Road......a post apocalyptic novel about a man and his son wandering the earth through the sunless skies of ash covered life.....there's a movie as well, which I have not seen...the book makes you question the existence God in a big way and ties into your poem I think with the particle accelerators etc. etc.
Cormac Mc Carthy is the author is you are interested...he also wrote,
No Country for Old Men....
nice writing
Cormac Mc Carthy is the author is you are interested...he also wrote,
No Country for Old Men....
nice writing
If you do not change your direction
you may end up where you are heading
you may end up where you are heading
thanks walt, dino, steve. horrible weather up here in the great northwest. writing weather. not sure how to end this one, other than maybe some strange sort of particle physics-speak cut up . . .
saw . . . always wanted to check out mccarthy. thanks for the reminder.
did some editing . . .
For some reason you hit a stretch of googling, which makes no sense on the road, a place where you write notes about broken motels and ribbons vanishing into sublime, maybe clever allegories about ravens and hawks if far enough off road. But there you were, into back road libraries for a stretch, one of them stashed inside an old tin trailer, eyes stuck to a monitor, beaming in data, big swigs of cyber grog. Not sure how to use it all, but no doubt it will be cut and pasted, linked and lambasted to pure enlightenment. It was empty desert when the urge hit, no reason why, maybe it was the radio, some new revelation or disaster. Odd how you couldn’t find a road out of the high desert, ping ponged from range to range, but even the empty spaces are wired now, no place left out of the eye. Messed with your hum a little.
Why google? It’s the power surging from your fingertips. “755,217 results, time: 0.18 seconds.” Whole blocks jammed with servers and infinite impulses lusting after data at your whim, and so quickly. They just sit there humming, thousands of them hooked in series, but there’s heat coming off that array, need to keep it hosed down. On those empty roads it seemed a lot of horsepower between your legs, tickling your thighs, but you began to ask silly questions and the novelty wore off, the urge passed.
One time you dialed up the “God particle.” You always wondered what holds the fabric together, all those careening particles. Something holds it all together in the face of those far-flung physics, so why not God? That was long ago and you moved on, but when the “God particle” hit the news you expected the great mystical metaphysical answers to tumble forth like falling dominos, but it seemed questions still roamed realms of mundane profundity, like for example, how do particles acquire mass? And if universe is the answer, what is the question? Now that’s trite.
Underneath France they built miles of catwalks and rings of super-conducting mega magnets in a sinister tunnel where they will smash particles more ferociously than ever, chasing after essence. Leave it to billions of dollars to chase a God riddle, the Tower of Babel, except buried deep in the crust, a mammoth particle accelerator, the biggest one yet, like a ducted steel octopus Star Trek nightmare, hunting something so infinitesimally key to everything because a few physicists were bored with the state of things.
saw . . . always wanted to check out mccarthy. thanks for the reminder.
did some editing . . .
For some reason you hit a stretch of googling, which makes no sense on the road, a place where you write notes about broken motels and ribbons vanishing into sublime, maybe clever allegories about ravens and hawks if far enough off road. But there you were, into back road libraries for a stretch, one of them stashed inside an old tin trailer, eyes stuck to a monitor, beaming in data, big swigs of cyber grog. Not sure how to use it all, but no doubt it will be cut and pasted, linked and lambasted to pure enlightenment. It was empty desert when the urge hit, no reason why, maybe it was the radio, some new revelation or disaster. Odd how you couldn’t find a road out of the high desert, ping ponged from range to range, but even the empty spaces are wired now, no place left out of the eye. Messed with your hum a little.
Why google? It’s the power surging from your fingertips. “755,217 results, time: 0.18 seconds.” Whole blocks jammed with servers and infinite impulses lusting after data at your whim, and so quickly. They just sit there humming, thousands of them hooked in series, but there’s heat coming off that array, need to keep it hosed down. On those empty roads it seemed a lot of horsepower between your legs, tickling your thighs, but you began to ask silly questions and the novelty wore off, the urge passed.
One time you dialed up the “God particle.” You always wondered what holds the fabric together, all those careening particles. Something holds it all together in the face of those far-flung physics, so why not God? That was long ago and you moved on, but when the “God particle” hit the news you expected the great mystical metaphysical answers to tumble forth like falling dominos, but it seemed questions still roamed realms of mundane profundity, like for example, how do particles acquire mass? And if universe is the answer, what is the question? Now that’s trite.
Underneath France they built miles of catwalks and rings of super-conducting mega magnets in a sinister tunnel where they will smash particles more ferociously than ever, chasing after essence. Leave it to billions of dollars to chase a God riddle, the Tower of Babel, except buried deep in the crust, a mammoth particle accelerator, the biggest one yet, like a ducted steel octopus Star Trek nightmare, hunting something so infinitesimally key to everything because a few physicists were bored with the state of things.
Last edited by mnaz on June 21st, 2010, 7:22 pm, edited 2 times in total.
thought provoking piece, Mark.
it's been said when questions end god begins... until that damn 'why' intrudes once again and the search for whatever continues, like adding bricks to a wall to keep doubt away.
enjoyed, as usual, amigo...
it's been said when questions end god begins... until that damn 'why' intrudes once again and the search for whatever continues, like adding bricks to a wall to keep doubt away.
enjoyed, as usual, amigo...
_________________________________
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Allow not destiny to intrude upon Now
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Allow not destiny to intrude upon Now
muchas gracias arcadia. something that's been on my mind a long time, that's all..
wrote a little more..
One time you dialed up the “God particle.” You always wondered what holds the fabric together, all those careening particles. Something holds it all together in the face of those far-flung physics so why not God? That was long ago and you moved on, but when the “God particle” hit the news you expected all the great mystical metaphysical answers to tumble forth like falling dominos, but questions still roamed mundane profundity, like for example how do particles acquire mass? Yawn. And this one from a promo: “if universe is the answer, what is the question?” Trite.
Underneath France they built miles of catwalks and rings of super-conducting mega magnets in a mammoth, sinister tunnel where they will smash particles more ferociously than ever, chasing after essence. And there was talk of building an even bigger, more costly monstrosity in China. Leave it to bazillions of dollars to chase a God riddle, the Tower of Babel, except buried deep in the crust this time in a behemoth particle shredder, the biggest one yet, a ducted steel octopus Star Trek nightmare hunting something so unimaginably infinitesimal yet the “key to everything,” because a few physicists were restless and bored, never satisfied.
Hard to blame them, riding on a “standard model” for thirty years, reliable and boring like an old Toyota pickup but short on the “philosophical.” It’s not enough to know that atoms are made of electron clouds one hundred millionth of a centimeter wide around nuclei a hundred thousand times smaller, and each proton and neutron is two thousand times the mass of an electron. Need to know why, need a little underpinning, a theory to answer more childish questions, since the best philosophical questions are childish, like, why are things the size they are? And weigh what they weigh? Maybe the electron clouds. If electrons had less mass, then smaller orbits. Things would be smaller. But “less mass?” Applied to the theoretically massless? And what is mass?
You see the problem here, these razor edge obsessions and how the brain might run away with itself. Or maybe it’s on the edge of a great collective portal. Acid man could relate if his pizza grew five times bigger or smaller depending on the latest theory of mass. Need a unified theory to answer everything, satisfy every skilled scientist, maybe even the itinerant preachers, politicians and racists too. Need some elegant solution. Well, a guy named Higgs proposed a field, through which particles move and in so doing acquire mass. Not bad. Of course in this milieu “fields” are made of particles too, a mind screw to start with. Could a “pure field” exist? Anyway the mass-giving field is said to consist of “Higgs boson” particles throughout space, another mind screw. Could “empty space,” the true void, exist?
Yes, seek the grail boson in that fearsome juggernaut under France, even if it's all a little absurd. Contractors will build anything you want for billions of dollars, in this case using gigantic worms with metal teeth. So be careful what you want. But what’s wrong with finding a theory to explain everything? Maybe even that old stumper, gravity? Ah, simple gravity. Still can’t explain it. Kind of puts “progress” in perspective. So yes. Spend bazillions to hollow out the rock, try to find what makes it tick. A tantalizing prospect, unraveling God! So close to the answers. Or at least a pricey new toy to satisfy chronic morbid curiosity. Seems the process is more fascinating than the science anyway. And for all of its exactitude and sense of being near a Final Solution, pure evolution is the only constant, one long shape-shifting koan, like Switzerland laughing at the whole campaign.
Whoa, too much jargon. So you looked up from the screen and out a window. The view from atop a mythic desert rise stretched out to ethereal fringes of the empty (though not literally “empty”). Okay, why not? Live a little, spend bazillions and keep the chase going, what’s the harm in it? And then you read on, something about "miniature black holes" spinning out of such new, more violent collisions. Umm, black holes? So is “God” maybe a little pissed if we try too hard to pry open essence? You picture an odd crease forming in some pasture in France, slowly at first, then a sudden sinkhole and the Alps swirling into a cosmic drain. Blip. Judgment day need not be long and drawn out.
Breaking down atoms was dangerous enough, whizzing electron clouds like science fiction, and of course the war minds got hold of it, bribed the best brains to work a weapons angle, mugged the heaviest atoms in awful chain reactions for the boom, need it for the boom, in the beginning was boom. All through your innocent years, the threat of poison fire hurricanes above, just out of sight, poised to come down and devour at any instant. That was bad enough. But it won’t happen like that. Won’t let mere particles get the better of us. Too smart for that.
wrote a little more..
One time you dialed up the “God particle.” You always wondered what holds the fabric together, all those careening particles. Something holds it all together in the face of those far-flung physics so why not God? That was long ago and you moved on, but when the “God particle” hit the news you expected all the great mystical metaphysical answers to tumble forth like falling dominos, but questions still roamed mundane profundity, like for example how do particles acquire mass? Yawn. And this one from a promo: “if universe is the answer, what is the question?” Trite.
Underneath France they built miles of catwalks and rings of super-conducting mega magnets in a mammoth, sinister tunnel where they will smash particles more ferociously than ever, chasing after essence. And there was talk of building an even bigger, more costly monstrosity in China. Leave it to bazillions of dollars to chase a God riddle, the Tower of Babel, except buried deep in the crust this time in a behemoth particle shredder, the biggest one yet, a ducted steel octopus Star Trek nightmare hunting something so unimaginably infinitesimal yet the “key to everything,” because a few physicists were restless and bored, never satisfied.
Hard to blame them, riding on a “standard model” for thirty years, reliable and boring like an old Toyota pickup but short on the “philosophical.” It’s not enough to know that atoms are made of electron clouds one hundred millionth of a centimeter wide around nuclei a hundred thousand times smaller, and each proton and neutron is two thousand times the mass of an electron. Need to know why, need a little underpinning, a theory to answer more childish questions, since the best philosophical questions are childish, like, why are things the size they are? And weigh what they weigh? Maybe the electron clouds. If electrons had less mass, then smaller orbits. Things would be smaller. But “less mass?” Applied to the theoretically massless? And what is mass?
You see the problem here, these razor edge obsessions and how the brain might run away with itself. Or maybe it’s on the edge of a great collective portal. Acid man could relate if his pizza grew five times bigger or smaller depending on the latest theory of mass. Need a unified theory to answer everything, satisfy every skilled scientist, maybe even the itinerant preachers, politicians and racists too. Need some elegant solution. Well, a guy named Higgs proposed a field, through which particles move and in so doing acquire mass. Not bad. Of course in this milieu “fields” are made of particles too, a mind screw to start with. Could a “pure field” exist? Anyway the mass-giving field is said to consist of “Higgs boson” particles throughout space, another mind screw. Could “empty space,” the true void, exist?
Yes, seek the grail boson in that fearsome juggernaut under France, even if it's all a little absurd. Contractors will build anything you want for billions of dollars, in this case using gigantic worms with metal teeth. So be careful what you want. But what’s wrong with finding a theory to explain everything? Maybe even that old stumper, gravity? Ah, simple gravity. Still can’t explain it. Kind of puts “progress” in perspective. So yes. Spend bazillions to hollow out the rock, try to find what makes it tick. A tantalizing prospect, unraveling God! So close to the answers. Or at least a pricey new toy to satisfy chronic morbid curiosity. Seems the process is more fascinating than the science anyway. And for all of its exactitude and sense of being near a Final Solution, pure evolution is the only constant, one long shape-shifting koan, like Switzerland laughing at the whole campaign.
Whoa, too much jargon. So you looked up from the screen and out a window. The view from atop a mythic desert rise stretched out to ethereal fringes of the empty (though not literally “empty”). Okay, why not? Live a little, spend bazillions and keep the chase going, what’s the harm in it? And then you read on, something about "miniature black holes" spinning out of such new, more violent collisions. Umm, black holes? So is “God” maybe a little pissed if we try too hard to pry open essence? You picture an odd crease forming in some pasture in France, slowly at first, then a sudden sinkhole and the Alps swirling into a cosmic drain. Blip. Judgment day need not be long and drawn out.
Breaking down atoms was dangerous enough, whizzing electron clouds like science fiction, and of course the war minds got hold of it, bribed the best brains to work a weapons angle, mugged the heaviest atoms in awful chain reactions for the boom, need it for the boom, in the beginning was boom. All through your innocent years, the threat of poison fire hurricanes above, just out of sight, poised to come down and devour at any instant. That was bad enough. But it won’t happen like that. Won’t let mere particles get the better of us. Too smart for that.
-
hester_prynne
- Posts: 2363
- Joined: June 26th, 2006, 12:35 am
- Location: Seattle, Washington
- Contact:
Nice writing again Mnaz.
At this point God in any shape or form is eluding me. I feel surrounded by negativity and stupidity. I'm laying low because of it, hoping it will lift....
My face seems to be permanently scowled.
It did soften some when I read this.
I thank you for that....
H
At this point God in any shape or form is eluding me. I feel surrounded by negativity and stupidity. I'm laying low because of it, hoping it will lift....
My face seems to be permanently scowled.
It did soften some when I read this.
I thank you for that....
H
"I am a victim of society, and, an entertainer"........DW
glad I could help, hest. here's hoping the cloud lifts, and soon. seems I have one hovering over me too. might help if these actual clouds dogging our beloved city would go away for a while . . .
made a few more polishes. It occurred to me that with all the veiled commentary (and yes, whining) that I weave into my little vignettes, I should at least roast myself for it in the narrative from time to time. . .
--------------
For some reason you hit a stretch of googling, which makes no sense on the road, a place where you write notes about broken motels and ribbons vanishing into sublime, maybe clever allegories about ravens and hawks if far enough off road. But there you were, into back road libraries for a stretch, one of them stashed inside an old tin trailer, eyes stuck to a monitor, beaming in data, big swigs of cyber grog. Not sure how to use it all, no doubt it will be cut and pasted, linked and lambasted to pure enlightenment. Strange how the urge hit in the empty high desert, maybe it was something on the radio. Odd how you couldn’t find a road out, just bounced from range to range, but even empty spaces are wired now, no place left out of the eye. Messed with your hum a little.
Mostly it’s the prodigious power surging from your fingertips, google. “755,217 results, time: 0.18 seconds.” Whole blocks jammed with servers and infinite impulses lusting after data at your whim, and so quickly. They just sit there humming, thousands of them hooked in series, but there’s a heat coming off that array, need to keep it hosed down. On those empty roads it seemed a lot of horsepower between your legs, tickling your thighs, but the novelty wore off, the urge passed. Not sure what set you off, maybe some crap politics on the AM dial. You piss and moan about it like those freaks sometimes. But it wasn’t only that, other more interesting things came up too. Until you found the off-button.
One time you typed the “God particle.” Always wondered what holds the fabric together, all of those careening particles. Something holds it together in the far-flung physics, so why not God? That was long ago and you moved on, but when the “God particle” hit the news you expected all the great mystical metaphysical answers to tumble like dominoes. But questions still roamed mundane profundity, like “how do particles acquire mass?”
Underneath France are miles of catwalks and rings of super-conducting mega magnets in a mammoth, sinister tunnel where they will smash particles more ferociously than ever, hunting essence. And there was talk of building an even bigger, more costly monstrosity in China. Leave it to a bazillion dollars to chase a God riddle, the Tower of Babel, except buried deep in the crust this time in a behemoth particle shredder, the biggest one yet, a ducted steel octopus Star Trek nightmare chasing a thing so unimaginably infinitesimal yet “key to everything” because a few physicists were restless and bored, never satisfied.
Hard to blame them, riding a “standard model” for thirty years, reliable and boring like an old Toyota pickup but short on the philosophical. It’s not enough to know that atoms are electron clouds one hundred millionth of a centimeter wide around nuclei a hundred thousand times smaller. Need to know why, need a little underpinning, a theory to answer childish questions, since they are the best philosophical musings, like why are things the size they are? And weigh what they weigh? Might be the electron clouds. If electrons had less mass, then smaller orbits, and things would be smaller. But “less mass?” In realms of the already theoretically massless? And what is mass?
You see the problem here, razor edge obsessions and how the brain might run away with itself, or maybe it’s on the verge of a great portal. Acid man could relate if his pizza grew five times bigger or smaller depending on the latest theory of mass, so humor it. Need a unified theory, something to satisfy every scientist and itinerant preacher, even the politicians and racists. Need an elegant solution. Well, a guy named Higgs proposed a field, through which particles move and in so doing acquire mass. Not bad. Of course in this milieu “fields” are made of particles too, a mind screw. Could a “pure field” exist? Anyway the mass-giving field is said to consist of “Higgs boson” particles throughout space, even in a vacuum, another mind screw. Could “empty space,” the true void, exist?
Yes, seek the grail boson in that fearsome juggernaut under France, even if it's all a little absurd. Contractors will build anything you want for billions of dollars, in this case using gigantic worms with metal teeth. So be careful what you want. But what’s wrong with finding a theory to explain everything? Maybe even that old stumper, gravity? Ah, simple gravity. Still can’t explain it. Kind of puts “progress” in perspective. So yes. Spend bazillions to hollow out the rock, try to find what makes it tick. A tantalizing prospect, unraveling God!
Whoa, too much jargon. So you looked up from the screen and out a window. The view from atop a mythic desert rise stretched out to ethereal fringes of the empty (though not literally “empty”). Okay, why not? Live a little, spend bazillions and keep the chase going, what’s the harm in it? And then you read on, something about "miniature black holes" spinning out of such new, more violent collisions. Umm, black holes? So is “God” maybe a little pissed if we try too hard to pry open essence? You picture an odd crease forming in some pasture in France, slowly at first, then a sudden sinkhole and the Alps swirling into a cosmic drain. Blip. Judgment day need not be long and drawn out.
Breaking down atoms was dangerous enough, whizzing electron clouds like science fiction, and of course the war minds got hold of it, bribed the best brains to work a weapons angle, mugged the heaviest atoms in awful chain reactions for the boom, need it for the boom, in the beginning was boom. All through your innocent years, the threat of poison fire hurricanes above, just out of sight, poised to come down and devour at any instant. That was bad enough. But it won’t happen like that. Won’t let mere particles get the better of us. Too smart for that.
made a few more polishes. It occurred to me that with all the veiled commentary (and yes, whining) that I weave into my little vignettes, I should at least roast myself for it in the narrative from time to time. . .
--------------
For some reason you hit a stretch of googling, which makes no sense on the road, a place where you write notes about broken motels and ribbons vanishing into sublime, maybe clever allegories about ravens and hawks if far enough off road. But there you were, into back road libraries for a stretch, one of them stashed inside an old tin trailer, eyes stuck to a monitor, beaming in data, big swigs of cyber grog. Not sure how to use it all, no doubt it will be cut and pasted, linked and lambasted to pure enlightenment. Strange how the urge hit in the empty high desert, maybe it was something on the radio. Odd how you couldn’t find a road out, just bounced from range to range, but even empty spaces are wired now, no place left out of the eye. Messed with your hum a little.
Mostly it’s the prodigious power surging from your fingertips, google. “755,217 results, time: 0.18 seconds.” Whole blocks jammed with servers and infinite impulses lusting after data at your whim, and so quickly. They just sit there humming, thousands of them hooked in series, but there’s a heat coming off that array, need to keep it hosed down. On those empty roads it seemed a lot of horsepower between your legs, tickling your thighs, but the novelty wore off, the urge passed. Not sure what set you off, maybe some crap politics on the AM dial. You piss and moan about it like those freaks sometimes. But it wasn’t only that, other more interesting things came up too. Until you found the off-button.
One time you typed the “God particle.” Always wondered what holds the fabric together, all of those careening particles. Something holds it together in the far-flung physics, so why not God? That was long ago and you moved on, but when the “God particle” hit the news you expected all the great mystical metaphysical answers to tumble like dominoes. But questions still roamed mundane profundity, like “how do particles acquire mass?”
Underneath France are miles of catwalks and rings of super-conducting mega magnets in a mammoth, sinister tunnel where they will smash particles more ferociously than ever, hunting essence. And there was talk of building an even bigger, more costly monstrosity in China. Leave it to a bazillion dollars to chase a God riddle, the Tower of Babel, except buried deep in the crust this time in a behemoth particle shredder, the biggest one yet, a ducted steel octopus Star Trek nightmare chasing a thing so unimaginably infinitesimal yet “key to everything” because a few physicists were restless and bored, never satisfied.
Hard to blame them, riding a “standard model” for thirty years, reliable and boring like an old Toyota pickup but short on the philosophical. It’s not enough to know that atoms are electron clouds one hundred millionth of a centimeter wide around nuclei a hundred thousand times smaller. Need to know why, need a little underpinning, a theory to answer childish questions, since they are the best philosophical musings, like why are things the size they are? And weigh what they weigh? Might be the electron clouds. If electrons had less mass, then smaller orbits, and things would be smaller. But “less mass?” In realms of the already theoretically massless? And what is mass?
You see the problem here, razor edge obsessions and how the brain might run away with itself, or maybe it’s on the verge of a great portal. Acid man could relate if his pizza grew five times bigger or smaller depending on the latest theory of mass, so humor it. Need a unified theory, something to satisfy every scientist and itinerant preacher, even the politicians and racists. Need an elegant solution. Well, a guy named Higgs proposed a field, through which particles move and in so doing acquire mass. Not bad. Of course in this milieu “fields” are made of particles too, a mind screw. Could a “pure field” exist? Anyway the mass-giving field is said to consist of “Higgs boson” particles throughout space, even in a vacuum, another mind screw. Could “empty space,” the true void, exist?
Yes, seek the grail boson in that fearsome juggernaut under France, even if it's all a little absurd. Contractors will build anything you want for billions of dollars, in this case using gigantic worms with metal teeth. So be careful what you want. But what’s wrong with finding a theory to explain everything? Maybe even that old stumper, gravity? Ah, simple gravity. Still can’t explain it. Kind of puts “progress” in perspective. So yes. Spend bazillions to hollow out the rock, try to find what makes it tick. A tantalizing prospect, unraveling God!
Whoa, too much jargon. So you looked up from the screen and out a window. The view from atop a mythic desert rise stretched out to ethereal fringes of the empty (though not literally “empty”). Okay, why not? Live a little, spend bazillions and keep the chase going, what’s the harm in it? And then you read on, something about "miniature black holes" spinning out of such new, more violent collisions. Umm, black holes? So is “God” maybe a little pissed if we try too hard to pry open essence? You picture an odd crease forming in some pasture in France, slowly at first, then a sudden sinkhole and the Alps swirling into a cosmic drain. Blip. Judgment day need not be long and drawn out.
Breaking down atoms was dangerous enough, whizzing electron clouds like science fiction, and of course the war minds got hold of it, bribed the best brains to work a weapons angle, mugged the heaviest atoms in awful chain reactions for the boom, need it for the boom, in the beginning was boom. All through your innocent years, the threat of poison fire hurricanes above, just out of sight, poised to come down and devour at any instant. That was bad enough. But it won’t happen like that. Won’t let mere particles get the better of us. Too smart for that.
-
creativesoul
- Posts: 4660
- Joined: September 15th, 2005, 3:23 am
- Contact:
matrix
seems as if you and alice like the rabbit hole- late for a very important date?
reason is over rated, as is logic and common sense-i much prefer the passions of a crazy old woman, cats and dogs and jungle foliage- tropic rain-and a defined sense of who brings the stars up at night and the sun up in the morning---
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