November 21, 2012 § Leave a Comment
If I could stare long enough at a single point . . . say, I was standing in a room and staring—not into a corner or at a blank wall, but if I could stare long enough, holding my friend’s hand while I did so (because her presence provides such strength), I could see into that spot, into this empty air, this vacuum, this invisible little nothingness between the ceiling and the floor and the walls, the part we walk through daily without feeling it pass through us—
if I could stare into the nonspecific space long enough I might see the atoms buzzing.
There is a law in quantum mechanics stating the specific placement of an atom cannot be exacted. A definite number cannot place its presence. The measurements are given in scientific notation so as to account for error. This is because the atoms are never not moving. Everything buzzes always. Without movement, nothing survives. Without the moon’s gravity and the tidal push, organic matter does not shift, life does not emerge on land. Stagnant lakes harbor death and bacteria. With only movement does life and light exist. With collision, new life is birthed. With a dying star, elements are hurled out into the nothingness; here, the debris collects and compacts. Planets are made. They move. The atoms they are made of move.
The laws of physics we are submitted to are specific to us and our size. Our atoms do not follow the same laws. They follow their own. How is it that the very essence of which we are made of does not follow the same rules?
The meteors and the red giants and the colliding galaxies are rushing ever-always, looming overhead. We are stuck between the quantum-sized fabric of matter and the ominous threats, the larger, unfeeling, relentless beasts. We are the Middle, a harmonizing of the unseen and the incomprehensible, all coalescing into brawn and sensuality and intellect and humor.
Vibrations of the atoms affect each erogenous pocket of matter—
screaming, we enter
pleading, we exit—
how magnificent, how frightening—
this begs interpretation but the truth remains evasive (“truth?” is the wrong question to ask here but I am left lying here, fighting off sleep and these poisonous thoughts that often plague a young man in his twenties.)
Another quantum law states how no prediction can be reached on what will happen in any given circumstance.
November 18, 2012 § Leave a Comment
During the flight, Simon & Schuster’s World of Physics brought consolation; Weaver and Feynman affirmed my own life-mulling in the way that Fichte and Kant had this year previous–thank the Germans! Today, Blaise Pascal–thank the French! But these are only names, only heritages. Their words transcend them in the way that my own notes scribbled on airport receipts belong no more to me than anything else (do I “produce” these notes or, rather, discover them? And what is it I discover? That which lies dormant, breathing and waiting in nature.)
On the receipt acting as a page placeholder,
unlike the Greeks, I must form a concept of the nature of physical laws in the way that I have sought a relationship between the forces and structures of nature
no structure can exist without forces
the laws of nature which apply to a human apply to any celestial bodies as well
observation, reason, experiment
methods of understanding: control/isolate, deduction, approximation
November 6, 2012 § Leave a Comment
It’s always disconcerting how the ability to publish our thoughts publicly also amplifies the volume of those so naively impassioned.
If you tout around your opinions in a profile status post, you should be prepared for a discussion.
Nothing left to say on this. Any opposition to the above statements is not worth the amount of effort required to refute it.
However, my posting these sentences onto someone’s Facebook profile devolves into the following responses:
“Omgggg it was just a status”
because when we cannot utilize our intellect to form coherent words and convey true meanings, we will mimic a dumb noise or add extra letters to further prove that we are incapable of genuine discussion.
November 5, 2012 § Leave a Comment
October 7, 2012 § Leave a Comment
Isn’t it wondrous how we can publish our thoughts immediately into this nonexistent void? Then, months later, we can read our own convictions begrudgingly. This tracks your ignorance and also your ability to learn past it and continue onward, humbly.
There are Numbers I do not stand behind. But I stand behind the past, regardless, bruised ego clenched in these ink-covered fists.
April 27, 2012 § Leave a Comment
“It’s all so juvenile”
is a phrase I read via someone’s Facebook status, moments ago;
What is All? Is it living? Is it social drama? Is it Facebook? Because if we are talking of anything involving humans then the above statement is correct
because Facebook is never fully developed. And the Internet is still rather young. Social drama is forever unfolding, always developing. And living is all about development, especially for humans;
furthermore, humans can never reach their full capacity because we can always aspire to becoming something better than what we are;
a son can accomplish what his father could not: always—
a flower cannot accomplish anymore beyond what its flower predecessors could accomplish; the flower has reached its full capacity, just as the lion has and even the ape has.
We are juvenile creatures, I will assert. And I can stand by this claim. Anything we invent is juvenile, in effect, and will forever be so
on the thought of LkCa 15b (click here to google this), Nature is rather juvenile as a Whole;
always the universe is expanding within the Multiverse which is always expanding within Whatever;
always there are planets forming;
always there are stars dying to spread the elements that spur on new life;
always, Nature is developing,
and if we are Variants of Nature then we are its Exceeding of its capacity;
we are the developing brain of All
so All is juvenile.
February 4, 2012 § Leave a Comment
all is relevant
The above emboldened statement has taken up enough time of wasted thought and wasted reading. I now must assert that
all is irrelevant
and until I am grown more in mind I cannot set upon the task of proving otherwise or, much less, prove anything worth upsetting lives.
we near the edge,
the impossible precipice of victory
The men are weary
the men are Me,
as the Mistake (of the poet) is often to speak for others, as if one may be a voice for many
I doubt such a voice is Me
I doubt such men (as those I wrote on) exist in any permutation