God does not play dice.

God does not play dice.. (AE)

The definition of insanity.

Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.

Witty sat down. To ponder. What in the world is happening to the world he once knew. He learned, in science class, that basically, “it is what it is.” Whatever this is supposed to mean……or that…………is supposed to mean. He thought.

What did Witty want? A stupendous result?…. What was actually happening? A chaotic mess of unintended particles getting

jiggy with it and each other having no real idea why. World “order”?

Why. Do people do what they do? Why were doing what they were doing. Who IS in charge. Who IS the boss? God?…..The dealer? God. The father. Predictions were not solidified in the presences of Albert. Albert Einstein.

”God does not play dice. “

Albert did not believe in the inherent unpredictability of the world.

Witty pled, silently, for evasion of the invasion. To no avail. It kept coming and coming and coming and coming and coming. Helpless to defend against its tentacled enmeshed web of deceit. The blah blahs and the ha hahs.

How can one argue that no two sides of the coin are the same? That no one ever throws the dice in exactly, in precisely the same way? Very small changes in the initial conditions can alter the results. (wk). With this thought, Witty chucked a rock at the tree yards away from where he sat.

On the one hand, dumbfounded. On the other hand. Confused. A mouthful of stupendous advice? Over the airwaves constantly. Savor its meaning? How can one when the meaning doesn’t mean? Who can change the ending?

“Very small changes in the initials conditions can alter the results. The underlying idea here is that in situations where we can’t predict precisely what’s going to happen next, it’s because there are aspects of the current situation that we haven’t taken into account.” 😳

Wait. What?

Hold on. There’s more.

”Similar please of ignorance can defend many other applications of probability from the accusation of Einstein Insanity to which they are all exposed. If we did have access to reality, according to this argument, the results of our actions would never be in doubt.”

Just then, another kid appeared. Just. Appeared. “Hi” he said to Witty as he approached the tree.” “My name is Zeno”. “What is your name?” “My name is Witty.” he replied.

”Kinda quiet here.” Zeno said. “What are you doing?”

Witty steadfastly stuttered, “Trying to figure out the state of the world.”

”Oh.” Said Zeno. “What have you concluded?

”Nothing.” Witty said. “Absolutely nothing.”

Zeno tossed a small rock in Witty’s direction and they began a game of catch. Of potential and mutual connection. Back and forth. To get the vibe of one another.

Zeno went on, “My teacher Parmenides taught me four famous paradoxes of motion.”

”Oh!” Signaled Witty. Clearly interested.

The very concept of motion. The idea of the arrow. The very illogical difficulties in the very concept of motion.

Zeno clarified. What he had learned about motion.

1. If you know where an arrow is, you know everything about its physical state.
2. Therefore a (hypothetically moving arrow has the same physical state as a stationary arrow in the same position.
3. The current physical state of an arrow determines its future physical state. This is Einstein Sanity—the denial of Einstein Insanity.
4. Therefore a (hypothetically h moving arrow and a stationary arrow have the same future physical state.
5. The arrow does not move.

”Huh?” Confused. Witty replied he was in a state of logical knots. Mystic rapturous confusion.

”What does this have to do with the state of the world right now?” Asked Witty.

”Everything.” Replied Zeno. “And nothing.”

“Einstein believed. Einstein believed there must be hidden aspects of reality, not yet recognized within the conventional formulation of quantum theory—which would restore Einstein Sanity.” Zeno rattled off, almost weirdly, but impressively.

”In this view it is not so much that God does not play dice, but that the game he’s playing does not differ fundamentally from classical dice.” Zeno explained.

”Oh. Uh Huh.” mumbled Witty.

Zeno surmised that it appears random but that it’s only because of our ignorance of certain “hidden variables.”

Roughly: God plays dice, but he’s rigged the game.

”God rig the game?” Witty replied, “No way.”

Zeno went on to explain it is not the almighty God, but the ones who play God. We must separate the messengers who wish to separate good from evil. Those willing to stand up to the bullies and say enough is enough— ones who believe that too much is never enough.

Under the tree there was real thinking going on. Real questioning. Real wonderment. Real wanting to share answers and conclude a conclusion in order to live on the same page. Of life.

Leave it to the kids. Both, yes and yes! Leave the hard questions of the whys and the hows. For the kids to iron out. The differences in the perspectives and the answers that hold us hostage to our own whims.

Under the tree that day, when Witty and Zeno met up. Strangers before they met. Compadres now on the path of a better existence.

Zeno proposed a kind of plan. “Hey.” he said to Witty. “How would you like to meet up here once a week, by the tree, to bring our life questions to one another, and try to come up with a better plan.” “We don’t have to listen to the adults our whole lives.”

“Great idea.” Witty said. “How ‘bout we bury this rock, right here, right now, so we will know, when we arrive to meet, that this is our domain. Our think tank, our place to make common sense of the mess that is the state of the world right now.”

They chatted about what next week’s topic was and agreed upon thinking, patterned thinking.

Next week’s session was to be about patterned thinking. Thinking our brain does automatically. Should you approach or retreat? Should you duck or jump.” The human mind acts instinctively because of past experiences.

The addition of emotions and short cuts we use to get over the moment. Immediate reactions. In the moments. They agreed that for today, the state of the world will just have to be until next week. They agreed and head nodded to one another in a non verbal “See you next week.”

The two fist pumped one another. Each threw some dirt on the rock and went their separate ways. Until next time they meet.

Witty and Zeno may never confirm if God does not play with dice. Or if God rigs the game. Their new sophisticated club under a tree, was all they needed at this moment in time, to have a safe place to find out the answers to life’s pressing questions.