Bowerbird #11: Cloud Tree Om Zanka
The more we look, the more there is to see. Everything seemed to fall into place once everything had been recorded. This realization can stultify, and, for a time, silence. We are no longer just twiddling our thumbs. But beware of how your eyes may deceive you. They power their intense luminescence by dining on the gas of other galaxies.
The side effects of all this? You see patterns that are not obvious to a computer program that does a step-by-step process. One world constantly gives way to another. A child can understand, for instance, that something might look like a tiger but actually be a lion. It’s hard to imagine a mechanism that’s going to give us a direct window to a time closer to the instant of creation. It’s like a king without a kingdom. The sense of motion frozen in time is palpable. The disappointment that followed, then, hit hard. The world had changed, and the culture with it. Then it burned itself to the ground.
Then again, a model is just a model. If we lack the right words, our mental abilities are limited in a way that extra life experience can’t fully compensate for. Once we exhaust those possibilities, we assume the problem is impossible. Anything else is creepy and unnatural. Given the difficulty of conducting research on the topic, it’s an uncertainty we may have to live (or die) with for a very long time. But some intrepid scholars have indeed tried to do so. Lots of folks are throwing numbers out. One of the issues with any kind of teamwork is assigning the right credit. So they turn away from people and turn to the world of objects. It can’t be written down as an equation. It can only end in collapse and in silence.
So actually there are two things. The difference is so infinitesimal that it might defy belief that anyone, even physicists, would care. Unless, of course, you flatter yourself into thinking that what you’re experiencing is “yearning.”