Take any irrational (perhaps transcendental) number and write out it’s decimal (or whatever) expansion, but we’ll go with decimal…
Pi is both irrational and transcendental. Those terms actually mean something beyond middle-aged Guardian readers being bummed for enlightenment by some swami with a beard you could lose a badger in.
It means this… It means everything and nothing. Take hold Nick! You are getting metaphysical on us!. Yes, I am. That is infinity. I could have done all sorts of things at university (even PPE – naughty!) but I did physics. I studied because I wanted to touch the fire. I did electives in discrete mathematics (I bum-fucked them) and infinity came into them. As did I.
If you code (anyhow) those infinite digits to ASCII then you will have to find somewhere in that jumble the complete works of Shakespeare. You will find the King James Bible, the Qu’ran, Jade Goody, “getting her kebab out”. Everything is there in the ratio of the circumference to the diameter of a circle. Everything!
That is what infinite means. And I don’t just mean Jade’s piss-flaps.
Finding in that what you really want. Now that is the trick!
So that is why I did physics. Kids might want the keys to their dad’s Porsche but I didn’t (he had a Nissan). Instead I got the keys to the Universe. Oh, I lived in some rum gaffs (one had a tampon affixed to the ceiling) for it but that feeling when I walked out of my final exam at Nottingham knowing I’d fucking cunted it (fluid dynamics was the final exam) and my immediate fluids was 35cls of ice cold vodka and a blow-job just down the road at Nightingale Hall… Sometimes it is just so good to be alive. Q. 6 had a flaw in it. And I spotted it and pointed it out. Gods, I was that good.
So was the vodka and the blow-job and the 80% on that exam. That is UK style where 70% is a first.
And the cigar. I had a cigar.
Dear sweet Jesus! That day went from eviscerating my final exam (in pencil!) to getting drunk as a skunk, having a spliff (I exchanged puffs for swigs with a pal) and getting blown by a fit blonde with tits ’till Wednesday. It was fucking emotional I can tell you.
Anyway, back to infinity. It’s a puzzler isn’t it?
I am though glad I see it as much as I can (by which I see reality) beyond the mere numbers. Perhaps that means I see reality more as it really is. I hope so. I really do. That would be something almost worth the cost of a blow-job. I didn’t have the eyes to be an RAF pilot and my life is fucked-up for being an astrophysicist but I still look to the skies.
I want the stars. I really do.
You can’t imagine how much. You really can’t.
Per Ardua ad Astra!
And to at least the first Aleph!