On starry nights, far from the technicolor of cities, when no responsibilities are boring into the mind and dulling the senses, it’s easy to romanticize the heavens. The stuff above and the stuff below seem radically different. We are earthly; they are ethereal. We are made of dust; they are made of stardust. But what is stardust? The word seems...
And the award for Best Artistry goes to . . . again . . . the Universe! Congratulations; but you must be weary of winning every year. Not weary? Just ticking on as usual? I see. Actually, to be honest, I don’t. I love to read books like Searching for Stars on an Island in Maine by Alan Lightman, books...
What’s out there? Alien life forms? Maybe. The physical embodiment of a whole lot of math? Definitely. In Searching for Stars on an Island in Maine, physicist Alan Lightman waxes poetic about math: certainly as worthy a poetic topic as love or longing. He describes an epiphany he had years ago. He had been stuck on a physics problem, when...
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