Soul and Wit

Did I forget Einstein?

That great, lofty, unreachable soul. So, may I pay him homage in this work.

And I look upon quantum physics and shudder!

“God plays not with dice.” So, I paraphrase, and I add, “…but does the Devil!” Or, have you looked upon a casino?

Therefore, on the basis of aesthetic ideal, do I reject quantum physics. What do I know?—neither scientist nor physicist.

But, if you dislike the rules, break them.

I say, instead, the Universe—ours—is a simulation created by aliens with 4-dimensional prowess. They are as powerful over us!—as we are to two dimensional figures. Lord, master, and God.

And who created them?—but 5-dimensional aliens, in turn. Each one, reducing down the set of known physics by one dimension—the cost of translation. How can one give birth to himself?

He shall never have the laws, nor properly understand the Universe—just as a man and a writer needs a reader and a friend to guide him. Thus, we go up the chain—and perhaps, we may surmise that string theory, M-theory, could be correct, after all.

How can we find prove of evidence we shall never measure?

This is the benevolent alien, who creates a Universe in His image—supposing, for a moment, the alien is our God—at least, in physics, because nobody can touch morality—who creates a Universe as true as can be. Or—he may be evil!, driven with Satanic fire, who may pull the plug, twist the laws, change any parameter at any moment.

Shall we ever know? But, it matters not to me, who swallows alien and simulation whole and spits out Christ, man on the Cross and God embodied, who can reach no higher, nor fall lower.

And, since in brevity is wit, let me part with light step, and speak the answer “42.” For, shall we follow the journey of human libido?

Suppose it begins around the age of 10, develops at 16, peaks at 26, and wanes at 42—each of these numbers in marvelous proportion, the Golden Ratio, God’s design for man!

And in this soul, there shall be wit, and should there be aliens, we may place the sum of all our human knowledge on a single “drive”—however we store information in this far future—when the Universe inevitably cools, supposing it does, and leave this store on Earth.

Let us erase everything else we touched!—be it a marvelous civilization, or the best of art, and merely capture it in bytes and data, the soul and spirit of this our creatures, our race, we call “mankind,” and to leave it upon our home planet, where begun it all.

In this is a cosmic salute to our creators, to whom we say—“we have done it all, and here is one last parting gift, from Man to God, and judge us not too harshly!”—and perhaps, one day, may we smile yet.