Here's my post for this morning. I think it relates:
*God and The Gaps <http://s33light.org/post/29960199987>*
If existence is physical reality, then God doesn’t exist. In fact, it could
be said that it is the absence of God which allows anything to exist. Said
another way, it is the unreality of the totality which maintains the
conditions of real (bounded, conditional, consequential) existence.
Mortality is the masking of immortal boundarylessness. A kind of cage or
lattice for what insists beyond all sequence or consequence. Only because
on any ultimate level of description of the universe, there is nothing
there to constitute a boundary. There can’t be a boundary, because then it
too would be the universe. Whether it’s the laws that make the laws that
make the laws of mathematics that make the laws of physics that make the
superstrings that make the quantum, or just the limits of our own
imagination, on some level, there is an everything, and that everything can
be considered to be, in one and only one sense, one and only one thing - a
source of signal/order/sense/experience. The singularity of totality.
Existence is a combination of signal and noise. The further in space we get
from our own signal, the more we lose reception and the less signal we
encounter in relation to noise and space. This loss of reception is true
across literal distance as well as metaphorical distance. The more
unfamiliar the territory, the less we can relate. As scales get
infinitesimal or immense, we objectify and mechanize to reflect the
disjunction to our own subjective anchoring of perception.
Space is entropy. In both the thermodynamic sense and the information
sense, space is the every gap between signals that contains only the
possibility of signal detection. In the void between our body and its
surroundings, there is ‘nothing there’ to respond to us on a human level,
or a biochemical level, or a physical level. To us a room full of hydrogen
gas is an empty space. To hydrogen however, maybe the only empty space is *the
flux between near collisions* - moments of virtual decoherence which define
a gaseous state (as opposed to a Bose-Einstein condensate approaching
absolute zero). What I am calling virtual decoherence, I think, can be
better understood as sense. A pantomime of universal expectation that is
empirical - it develops within experience. It makes sure that the expected
keeps happening and the unexpected stands out. Momentum-inertia,
probability, and significance.
If there were a God, he-she-it-we-they would be zero entropy. Zero space.
Zero space but all time. Almost all time. Almost no space. Almost no
entropy. Almost pure signal. Because the capacity to generate signal in any
sense at all is power and knowledge, and power and knowledge are relative.
Relative in the sense that ‘in the land of the blind, the one eyed man is
king’, but also in the sense that knowledge itself is relation, and power
is the ability to relate knowledge to the self.
One signal in an empty universe is all it takes to define omnipotence and
omniscience relative to the emptiness of noise. Once a signal pretends to
exist, there is nowhere to put it. It has no entropy - no space in which to
exist as an object, so *it insists, as a becoming of its own absence*. This
is the single self-subdividing event that turns eternity into an infinite
now (pretending to be history).
If there were a God, it would be all of us put together. The everythingness
behind the nothingness behind every nested multiplicity of almost
somethingness. No space, no noise, no distance - only infinite significance
becoming more significant. Infinite because by definition it is the only
game in town. More significance through the paradox of self-insignificance.
Being humbled makes us great. A great big pile of crap. Decaying broken
forms pretending to be whole and beautiful and perfect to each other for a
season. For every season, over and over. It’s only the greatness however,
the underlying potential wholeness, beauty and perfection that needs to
pretend it is pretending though. The whips and scorns of time form the
perfectly imperfect frame for eternity. A pecking order of gravity to
squeeze the life out of us, crushing our unreal wilderness of warm soft
fiction with the shadows of cold hard facts.
What exists to us is almost almost infinite noise across almost infinite
distance, except for a sand-clock trickle of ‘now’ which contains all of
the signals that can be squeezed together yet still be held distinct from
each other. What exists is 99.99…9% entropy because what insists is 0.00…1%
entropy. A distanceless ‘here’ that has nowhere else to be, perpetually
spinning the universe around it, over and over. Almost all time (every time
except now), almost no space (nowhere except here).
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