Friday, September 30, 2005

Time it goes away away down the river of grammar

Somehow I can't really believe in time. Go down to the railroad tracks go down to the grave, the grave where molding headstones white granite and ethereal aqua-tinted mold creeping over them, go down to the Mexican restaurant where life circles ever on in bronze voices on the radio and golden beer going down throats. Limes, radishes, men with thick hands like tree roots clutching the soil, half-buried like headstones.
They say the universe began one time, there was a big bang, they say, and that the universe had its beginning there. I'm not convinced. I say the world had no beginning- its always been, always will be, and there is no time, there is only one moment, which God is outside of- that is the definition of God- something outside of time- not a great man, or even spirit, or collective mind. This universe is a great, vast, toothpaste tube, and as it is squeezed out into timelessness, it loses its body. "God" is perhaps a sentient quantum computer, a program written in a code invented by itself. GTACAACATCCG- "who" wrote the code that could become an evolving self-writing altering program? There is a Kabbalistic idea that "god" is a verb, not a noun- and that letters and language are creation, quite literally. We know from the discovery of genetic code that there is at least something in this idea.
You cannot destroy limes and radishes by destroying one Mexican restaurant, or even all Mexican restaurants, and even eradicating all lime and radish plants from the face of the earth. If the genetic code of that plant were stored somewhere in a computer database, a future scientist could recreate it. Or if it were say, preserved in amber, a la Jurassic Park.
In the movie Tron, which I once watched 23 times in a row when I was a kid and had the stomach flu, there are 2 worlds: one of the "users" and one of the "programs" and the programs get their life and form and personality from the users who "wrote" them.
We are all in a sense writing ourselves, as we script the plots and intrigues of our lives, and our bodies are busily writing our cells from DNA as we sleep. Might it be that the old religious vision of God as a kind of "Master Control" computer could give way to another paradigm, one more dynamic, liberating, and "open-source"?

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