The Underground Lady [Page Forty-One]

Passing through many ruptures, one begins to see that what one at first perceived as a fabric really is much more like liquid.  Think how one will perceive it—how thin and impermanent—in the future.

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There is nothing around us, besides energy and matter that can barely be detected using the most delicate instruments.   There is nothing, in a very real sense, not even between you and whatever is right beside you.  Reach out and see.

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We live surrounded by things, held together by nothing—that is all.

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Even the atomists do not really believe that outer space is “filled.”  As their knowledge has advanced, they have begun to appreciate the profound power of the vast empty reaches in the universe, where not even dark matter goes.  Space is mostly dark energy, which is, as far as we are concerned, nothing.  And yet it will be enough to rip all the matter in the universe apart, and continue, in darkness and coldness, forever.

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For a long time, physicists resisted even the possibility that the final disposition of the universe might be darkness and coldness.  They held to the false assumption of a future contraction, which we now know to be impossible.  We live in an expanding and accelerating universe, which will only continue to accelerate faster, as it reaches certain tipping points.  But still, there are those who resist, and their increasingly bizarre and improbable counter-explanations have led to the positing of parallel universes—to mythology, in other words—although there are those, even among the believers, who are beginning finally to waver.

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Life, being incidental in the history of the universe, cannot be said to be significant to anything outside itself, not in any sense. 

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Now that we have a pretty good conception of our place in the universe, and realize that the void is both endless and that its endlessness has nothing to do with us, what is left?  To travel, I would say.  We should put everything we’ve got into outer space exploration.  When nothing is all that is left to one, there is nothing left to do but to travel.

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Undeveloped types are always busy trying to convince the rest of us of their significance, by proclaiming it, usually loudly, always abrasively, and never with a larger point attached.  Even when they do engage a broader issue, they can only opine on what it means to them.  It’s like talking in a mirror with somebody else’s reflection, a mirage that stubbornly refuses to dissipate so that you can see what lies beyond.

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Plenty of people have learnt the trick of ignoring the type of person described above—just don’t respond.  Silence withers them.

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The Underground Lady says:  “The word ‘elitism’ is thrown around by a lot of people today, like those who denounce Obama for being smart.  I don’t trust that word, I’m suspicious of it.”  Me, too, I agree, very.

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Some people are just dense, and their reasoning is full of holes.  They need a good de-corking.

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One needn’t be too nice with animals.  Dogs, for instance, respond better if one is distant toward them from time to time. 

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Alright, let’s get this out of the way:  I do not really hate America—my attitude toward it is more one of over-familiarity.  And over-familiarity breeds contempt.  This is one reason why I left.  After a time, this feeling lessened.  What I was left with was a wry mistrust, and a vague sense of regret.  I hardly ever think of it.

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