.Round and Round the Mulberry Bush, … Forever

Pythagoras smiles.

In a madhouse infinitely short of time’s end Albert celebrates his never ending, uncompleted quest by contemplating the infinite facets of a globe. After all, man’s reach must exceed his grasp or just what the Hell is Heaven for.

Quantum fields where magic dwells and the impossible is impossible and possible concurrently, complementarily, alternatively and consecutively or perhaps, not at all. Where winds without shape or form or content howl and swirl and play, and laughing madly, cry: “amplituhedron”, now how likely is that?

“As likely as the positive Grassmannian oh ye of little faith” the vacuum declaims, full unto bursting, wondering just what it is black holes are seeking, and why or when and why again. Thus are gods and goddesses stillborn on nightless nights and sunless days somewhere with neither locality nor unitarity that space and time disdain.

In a madhouse infinitely short of time’s end Albert celebrates his never ending, uncompleted quest by contemplating the infinite facets of a globe. After all, man’s reach must exceed his grasp or just what the Hell is Heaven for.
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© Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Manizales, 2016; all rights reserved