flying through clouds of uncertainty on wings of existential dread
Speaking of which, have we all read this? I found it as a kid in one of my dad’s books (possibly a Frederick Pohl? Maybe?) and I’ve never stopped finding it charming.
Imaginary Numbers in a Real Garden
Given: one bold mathematician.
Uncertain of his own position,
he drew two lines and at their joint
where angels danced, he made his •.
Then reached into the void and caught
the faceless essence of the 0,
and taught us not to fear ∞
but worship his serene divinity,
whose sacraments at first seem pale;
yet if men hunger for a Grail,
they still may seek, beyond the sun,
the rare √-1.