a thing of beauty is a joy forever

Silence.

 

What?!

 

Silence and perhaps inaction.

 

But how is it possible?

 

Because the weight of things interconnected with myriad other things means it’s almost impossible to make a mark or achieve anything by doing something or other.

 

Don’t be absurd. History of full of people doing things and achieving incredible results.

 

Isn’t it just.

 

Which proves you wrong.

 

Does it?

 

Well if you have any logic then yes, it does.

 

All it proves is that people have done incredible things, but they all happen within history, and history, if you don’t mind me saying, continues the same as always, from one murderous war to the next, from disease and famine through a brief interlude to more of the same.

 

But you can’t blame the heroes for that – the ones who nobly fought to bring about change. They shone a light and showed humanity that we can do better – we can rise above our shallow, petty-minded natures and start a new chapter in humanity – if only each of us will accept that we are all endowed with nobility and heroic attributes.

 

Sounds great Masha, but in practice it’s totally unworkable.

 

But why?

 

Because you can’t push on a string.

 

I beg your pardon?

 

Try it, if you like.

 

Try what?

 

To push on a string. You won’t get far.

 

But what’s that got to do with anything?

 

Because of mathematics.

 

What?

 

Because you can’t really affect things by doing, or even saying, things.

 

Of course you can! You can build a house or a bridge, you can make clothes or computers, you can invent the wheel or a time machine... There's so much you can do when you apply yourself. That's why we've come so far already.

 

Ah, we left behind the Neanderthals and all but destroyed the planet.

 

Yes, we've damaged the planet horribly, but we also created beautiful poetry, music and art, not to mention gardens full of wonderfully cultivated plants, and farms stocked with animals we’ve bred for generations. It goes on and on, Tom. You shouldn't dismiss the astonishing achievements of humanity.

 

Indubitably, Masha, but these achievements are nothing compared to what we have sacrificed and what we could have achieved if we’d better balanced the 1 of action with the zero of non.

 

Non what?

 

Hey nonny nonny!

 

Have you nothing more intelligent to say?

 

Ok, Masha, my apologies – I’ll be more serious: the zero of non-action.

 

Non-action – as in inaction?

 

Well, there’s a subtle difference, isn’t there?

 

I wouldn’t know, Tom, is there?

 

Yes. Inaction is a bit like the failure to act because of uncertainty, laziness or prevarication – whereas non-action is a confident, positive um…

 

A positive um? You got me there.

 

Sorry – it’s difficult putting it into words.

 

I wonder why that would be?

 

Either because my theory is abstract or nonsensical…

 

Well, I’m not holding my breath, Tom.

 

Or… because language itself is part of the doing and acting mania.

 

Nonsense – people spend their whole lives talking and not getting anything done.

 

There’s that, Masha, I must admit – but this is more a case of language’s inability to express the beauty and power of zero, of non or the positive, pregnant pause.

 

Me thinks you underrate language, Tom.

 

You might be right, Masha.

 

There’s poetry, for instance, which can do all kinds of things straight-forward prose struggles to.

 

Yes. Touché.

 

But if you expect me to believe your hypothesis – that not doing is equal to doing – that things can just magically sort themselves out – then good luck to you, Tom. I’d like to see you try – poetry or prose.

 

Ah – the false dichotomy, is it?

 

I beg your pardon?

 

The either-or logical fallacy.

 

What on earth are you on about?

 

You said poetry or prose – as if these are the only two ways I can persuade you that non-action is more powerful than action.

 

Well how else are you going to do so – by blowing your nose?

 

Ha ha, very funny.

 

Seriously. Do you think there’s an alternative?

 

There’s always an alternative – or to be precise – multiple alternatives.

 

Like what?

 

I don’t know, really. I could paint a picture, couldn’t I.

 

To prove a hypothesis? Possibly – but I’m deeply sceptical.

 

I could make a movie.

 

How likely is that? You’re going to make a whole movie just to prove a point which basically makes no sense.

 

Ah – but there we disagree, Masha. It makes perfect sense when you embrace the power of non-action. Besides, it’s becoming ridiculously easy to make movies with the AI engines now freely available.

 

Ok – you have a point – you could theoretically make a movie – but wouldn’t that disprove your hypothesis by requiring not-inconsiderable action?

 

Yes, you’re absolutely right my dear logical lady love.

 

Er… less of that, please.

 

So, if my theory’s correct – I should be able to prove it using little or no action whatsoever. Things should just fall into place in a matter of time.

 

In which case, your theory might be renamed the theory of infinite patience – because most people don’t have the time or the patience to wait for things to rearrange themselves – we’re always cutting to the chase, speeding up production times or even watching videos at double speed.

 

Yes. An age of hasty – racing towards the abyss. But don’t worry Masha – this isn’t going to take long.

 

No?

 

No, in fact the proof is already in the pudding.

 

It is?

 

Yes.

 

How’s that?

 

Because my silence, my zero is not, in fact, the passive inaction you assumed it was.

 

So you say.

 

Real change, real action cannot happen in time.

 

So you say.

 

Because time is where things are merely shuffled around – with nothing changing fundamentally.

 

So you’re saying that nothing has changed in our world – that we’re where we were hundreds or thousands of years ago?

 

No, not at all.

 

Then I fail to see how…

 

Correct. Let me help. Newton’s third law.

 

Er…

 

For every action, or force, in nature there is an equal and opposite reaction.

 

And?

 

Meaning it’s a zero-sum game.

 

But that’s not what we see in reality, is it?

 

No, which means there’s clearly more to reality than what we see, or what we’re currently aware of.

 

Does it, Tom? Perhaps this is just the false premise fallacy.

 

The what?

 

An argument based on an incorrect or unsupported assumption, rendering the argument logically unsound.

 

Trying to beat me at my own game, I see! Well done, Masha.

 

Well, it isn’t so very difficult to be clever, is it?

 

You’re absolutely right, my love.

 

?! Do you have to resort to sexual harassment, Tom? I expected better of you?

 

Sexual harassment? Are you serious?

 

Well, you’ve twice referred to me as “your love”, which you have no right to do.

 

Ah that. I see what you mean, but here you’re hoisted by your own petard.

 

You what?

 

You yourself acknowledged I could use poetry to prove my hypothesis.

 

And?

 

And that’s exactly what I did.

 

No you didn’t.

 

Didn’t I? Why do you have to assume so intransigently that I’m being prosaic and literal when I switch into verse and addressed you poetically?

 

Because there was no poem. Just a little demeaning sexual harassment.

 

Ah, but poetry doesn’t have to be any particular length – dear Masha. If I switch to the poetic mode, even if only for two or three words – that is legitimate.

 

So you’re giving yourself the right to address any woman as “your love” just because you claim it’s poetic?

 

No.

 

Then what?

 

I was opening zero – creating a space, a pause, and to do that I used micro-poetry.

 

Oh, so now it’s “micro-poetry” is it?

 

Yes, why not?

 

How about “micro-harassment”, Tom?

 

Well you see, Masha, you can’t have your cake and eat it.

 

Oh really?

 

Yes, you can’t ask me to demonstrate the power of silence, the power of zero – without allowing me to open a portal into the aforementioned.

 

And the only way for you to do so is by treating me as a sexual object?

 

A sexual object? Poems throughout the ages have been more often than not addressed to a “love” or “lover” – real or imaginary – it matters little or matters not.

 

Well, they were poets and poems – whereas this was a regular conversation. You never indicated you were switching to poetry so I was perfectly justified in taking it personally.

 

Good.

 

Good?

 

Yes, now you see the difficulty we have effecting real or meaningful change in a world where things are bound up, through the medium of a person’s mind, his or her emotions, his or her ego, his or her feelings, his or her beliefs and assumptions – a whole tapestry of interwoven strands. We are all vulnerable and aware of the need to defend ourselves from change or imposition – as any change is going to affect or impose on someone else.

 

But there are people who bring about change intelligently, creatively, beautifully so that everyone is happy and willing to embrace it.

 

Yes, I agree. But still, speaking fundamentally, the problem of the poem – of shifting into another mode is revealing, is it not?

 

No, Tom, it’s not. It merely reveals that you’re an insensitive male chauvinist.

 

Ah, but suspend your disbelief for a moment – supposing I really was opening up a portal – into silence or zero – and to do that I referred poetically, not sexually, to love – then…

 

Then what did you achieve?

 

Ah – the pudding.

 

Yes. The pudding.

 

Have you noticed the passage of time? – while we were chatting about nothing much.

 

Well, yes, of course I did. We’ve been chatting for ten or fifteen minutes, have we not.

 

You’d think so, wouldn’t you. What about them?

 

Them?

 

The people who are party to this discussion.

 

What people, Tom?

 

There are always people, Gods or spirits party to any discussion no matter where you are.

 

Really?

 

Absolutely. Such is the nature of consciousness. It cannot, does not happen in a vacuum – or if it does, the vacuum has the need or the ability to keep itself under constant observation.

 

And why is that?

 

Quantum physics, dear Masha.

 

Quantum physics?

 

Without constant observation – nothing happens – even if it apparently did or does.

 

Huh?

 

Without observation by a third party – it’s all just pie in the sky, or dream, you might say.

 

It is?

 

No substance whatsoever – so no traction whatsoever. The wheels spin but the car cannot, does not move forwards.

 

So there has to be observation?

 

Yes, and observation is never entirely neutral, is it, dear Mary.

 

You’re being poetic, Tom, are you?

 

Yes, my love.

 

I wish you wouldn’t.

 

I know, but somehow or other I have to keep the gates of poetry ajar – and the safest or easiest way to do so is

 

Sexual harassment.

 

Well, this is the modern age – is it not – an age of things and matter – where faery and alchemy and mythical creatures have all been consigned to the nursery – because love has been relegated to procreation and sexual identity.

 

Er… what else do you expect – if you’re being realistic?

 

Realistically I expect nothing else. It is what it is – but speaking poetically I care not in the least – for love is the force which embraces, encapsulates and activates the quantum field, where things can and do happen outside time, outside space, outside the endless push and shove of matter.

 

Oh really! Who ever heard such nonsense. Ask any scientist who knows about the quantum field whether love is a factor – if you want to see an expression of amused bewilderment or derision.

 

Ask a scientist? How many of your scientists are able to access the quantum field directly?

 

Don’t be ridiculous, Tom! No one is able to access the quantum field directly – it exists at the sub-atomic level – not at the scale of human beings.

 

Not if you are unable to tunnel from prose to poetry – entering the zero equals one state of quantum indeterminacy.

 

Well Tom – I have to say – you are persistent and determined, if nothing else.

 

Well Masha – it’s been fun. But like I said, the proof is in the pudding.

 

Fat chance of that, Tom.

 

Fat chance, my lady love.

 

 

Masha winces, then turns to go out. Something strange is going on. Something she can’t quite put her finger on. She glances back at Tom to see if he’s feeling the same thing – but astonishingly he’s no longer there.

 

What the… where’d he go?

 

Numbers, numbers all around – Masha is shocked to find that she’s now able to see what looks like the green descending digits of the matrix.

 

No way… this can’t be!

 

She rubs her eyes and will the numbers away. They upset her – something inside doesn’t want to know they’re there – doesn’t want to believe it could be true – doesn’t want to see what she’s just seen. To her relief they recede. They’re barely perceptible – barely – but there’s still a trace – a hint – a sense of impermanence in the walls and objects surrounding her – that they could at any moment be mathematically rubbed out or deleted.

 

Against her will something poetic inside rises up – she looks at a boring thing – a machine – I won’t say what – it really doesn’t matter – a machine that makes her mind feel tired and bored – as if it has an energy that saps the joy, saps the will to dance and live and know – and without wondering how – without wondering why – she looks at it from the other side – sensing different numbers – sensing an opposite force – an opposite thing – and now the machine is a rose – a rose is what she now sees – details flood in in real time – a rose bush – a garden – the thing is now a source of delight and joy – poetry – and she’s dancing around it like a child – feeling love, feeling joy – feeling relieved that the quantum field, or whatever this is – has no material constraints.

 

Masha – that was incredible.

 

Oh – Tom. I didn’t know you were…

 

So beautiful. Thanks for showing me that.

 

I – really don’t know what came over me.

 

Not to worry, my love, tis no matter.

 

I… ok.

 

They part. The poem – if poem it be – reverberates in the halls of third party observer minds – if halls there be – and the matrix shrugs – returning to its usual grip on things – adding ones interminably.

 

 

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