Il est 4H45, le Trescols s’éveille (du moins une partie, le coq Zorro n’a pas encore chanté) et je me replonge dans mon ouvrage anglais. Si je ne m’endors pas, je navigue à vue dans ce livre de l’excentrique photographe Cameron Baxter. L’astronomie est plus facile. Mais je persévère. Tétu. Si vous n’entendez plus de moi, signalez « Alerte enlèvement ». Merci, over and out.

PS: j’étais à l’horizon d’un trou noir, avec Fred Jansen, quand Zorro, lui, s’est réveillé.

Designed by London-based photographer Cameron Baxter, A Comprehensive Guide To Navigating Parallel Dimensions is a lovely bout of retro-themed fakery in the style of a 1960s text book.

“The mystery of being is a permanent mystery,” says John Updike in Jim Holt’s book Why Does the World Exist?: An Existential Detective Story. Updike, who never had this guidebook, adds:

“The laws amount to a funny way of saying, ‘Nothing equals something,’” Updike said, bursting into laughter. “QED! One opinion I’ve encountered is that, since getting from nothing to something involves time, and time didn’t exist before there was something, the whole question is a meaningless one that we should stop asking ourselves. It’s beyond our intellectual limits as a species.

Put yourself into the position of a dog. A dog is responsive, shows intuition, looks at us with eyes behind which there is intelligence of a sort, and yet a dog must not understand most of the things it sees people doing. It must have no idea how they invented, say, the internal-combustion engine. So maybe what we need to do is imagine that we’re dogs and that there are realms that go beyond our understanding. I’m not sure I buy that view, but it is a way of saying that the mystery of being is a permanent mystery, at least given the present state of the human brain.

I have trouble even believing—and this will offend you—the standard scientific explanation of how the universe rapidly grew from nearly nothing. Just think of it. The notion that this planet and all the stars we see, and many thousands of times more than those we see — that all this was once bounded in a point with the size of, what, a period or a grape? How, I ask myself, could that possibly be? And, that said, I sort of move on.

Updated/maj. 13-05-2021

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