Here's my post for this morning. I think it relates:

*God and The Gaps <>*

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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