You, the reference

God created an universe of quanta, physics says. It is said that the reason dominates the consequence in value, and the lower the level organisation is, the close it is to the final truth. In a perfect world we would dig this mine until we eventually obtain that one fundamental level of Creation and be happy proclaiming science being a complete knowledge. Yet, the more we learn, the more likely this search seems to be infinite in the purest meaning of the word. There just may happen not to be any principal base point and the onion of the matter structure nesting may propagate in both directions just indefinitely. In all this complexity I am frequently lost. Head carried away by the wild kaleidoscope of deep philosophy and just false thoughts, I helplessly slip down on my knees struggling to regain the assurance of being a human. Give me a hand and let me declare you the ultimate reference.

You can trace all your thoughts and actions back to biological origin. By sequential application of natural science of various level you can decompose but everything within your mind into a long chain of causal relations, unless you get unluckily trapped into the quantum paradoxes. Conscience, character, feeling — all forged in neural plexi as a complex reaction on stimuli. Every a your deed can probably be predicted, yet in all this behavioural noise I can sketch out your soul, an essence of yours, if you would, whether it exists as a separate entity or not. For if I am how can you not be per se? Cogito ergo sum and therefore you are as well by the same logic. Finally, I just want to lift all the view angle resolution away. I just want you to be my reference point.

All I ask you is to be. To be real. To be my world.

Timelessness and Rust

Your worst foe is rust. You should probably have imagined those reddish deposits on some piece of metal? Trust me, rust knows not a single face. Right hand of the time itself does it manifest itself as the aging mangles the prettiest of faces, as the purest passion entangled in a cage of boredom and habbit, as anything of beauty slowly decays to its horrific demise. Rust makes matter and thought rot from the very inside, decomposes any ordering back to primal chaos. Order, chaos, those two are always in conflict, right?

Natural, you say? Think, just think! You are alive, and that already defines your side choice in that neverending struggle. Life creates form, life promotes meaningfullness, life reduces entropy, unlife tries dissolve any shape into an uniform whole. Over millions of years we have developed a handful of tools to retain our organisation safe from all the attacks of rust. Before one is torn asunder by the forces of aggressive natural physics, they pass to their offspring a safe keycode, sufficient to recreate all order previously achieved but fallen victim to time. With sentience, we brought that tactic to unbelievable heights, preserving not only our biological form, but also knowledge, invention and art — safe from rust's hungry fangs. Still, what we do, is but a defense. How about a counter strike?

What do we have to offer against the rust? One obvious solution is an everyday stubborn labour, a wise advice from The Little Prince, baobabs, their seeds and stuff. I shall not attack that aproach in full, I find it one honourable and righteous deed to do, however, with time being the nemesis, that effort may at best delay the inevitable still not fight back the culprit behid the rusting. The time benefits from a nice headstart, no matter how persistent we may work on ourselves. Time operates everywhere at once, a throughput not even theoretically achievable by us, being a subset of that “everywhere”, in fact, time will for ever be some steps ahead. But what then?

You, being gifted with mind are given that eternal riddle upon birth. You are to either solve it during what lifespan you are generously given by the heritage of your struggling ancestors or share their doom, still passing hope for the generations to come. Sooner or later, the intellect shall prevail. When we separate the beauty from the rot, when we manage to sever ties with rusting and transcede over the time itself, we might well prove to God we are, after all, worth having been created in His image.

Feelings as orbital

I have an interesting concept I've been thinking about for a while recently. Due to recent events I have almost proven myself that Platonean approach purging any emotion for the sake of purity is very probably a wrong road. Since antiquity, both philosophies and religions were seeking to combine the feeling and the rationality in a golden ratio. I am a man of (cough!) science with some art heritage built in, therefore I was seeking the graphical analogy illustrating my own personal attitude towards the subject.

Let us first agree on the following assumptions. We do already know that most sentimental thoughts are based directly on the neurophysiology. Whether a divine spark or so called soul is there to guide as well is disputable and irrelevant here. We assume that an emotion is grounded on the complex chemical interactions. However, we note that we currently are not in the possession of the tools allowing us to capture the whole array of the processes within, so while not discarding the physical nature we can postulate that a feeling is a random variable, defined on some set of possible feeling modalities with parameters. Also we consider the observer effect while a person is trying to inspect their own feelings and the difficulty of tracing their development in time with reasonable accuracy. From this point we can define a probability distribution to which the feeling variable corresponds. To simplify the task, we will only deal with the static case and a good statistical amount of observations.

It is no wonder that an emotion is not uniformly random. Moral, ethics, beliefs, upbringing and reason all leave their trace on the distribution. It is not uncommon that one follows some sensual stereotype when some set feelings being an often event, while all others are rare, although existent. Now here my analogy comes into play, as in chemistry, we declare the subset on which the probability is the most dense (say, above some threshold) to be the something alike the electron orbital. I beg my pardon before the real physicists who may at this point object to me due to feelings being rather a model with hidden parameters. I remind that I do allow myself such liberty only for the sake of visual analogies.

When one discards the emotional and tries to direct the feeling with his bare mind, they plot a trajectory. Immediately, problems arise, namely the lack of practical insight on particular value transitions as well as the low entropy contributing to the state instability. It would be more wise, on the other hand, to rationally shape an orbital. That would keep the behaviour of senses within a given area statistically while not taking the natural freedom of emotions away and not leading to artificial alienation from what's considered baseline in humans to feel, which in turn produces a rigid stand under the feet, so to say, verified by centuries of time.

Dear reader, in case you detect I have reinvented the wheel here please inform me of similar ideas in other works. Also, objections are the most welcome.