September 16, 2005
Nature
I sometimes wonder that if Nature thinks at all, what it thinks about us. Or is there even such a thing as Nature without us to filter it through our senses, that is, to measure and to locate it. We humans imagine, I suppose, that we do the Universe a service even by such notions as space/time (always in reference to us, of course) and passing our knowledge about it back and forth among us, opinions not always the same over the years from Aristotle to Pat Robertson.
It’s when we set those opinions in concrete, as it were, and go so far as to kill one another because of their immutability, that it all becomes so ludicrous. We call those opinions “law,” and we set them apart as if to be that than which there is no whicher — except we, of course, the filterers who decide what it all means.
Is it not perhaps the irony of all ironies to believe and to claim that no one of us is “above” a law that all the while we’ve named with certainty and with total disregard for the color of the glasses through which we watch it pass by?
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