One evening at lake Sevan, I played a game of chess with an old pianist, the friend of a friend. I was about to win when he told me this: “Where there is nothing, no music, no words, no voice, no light, no laws of physics, no numbers, no zero, no truth… -Where there is no truth?” I asked, and I played a bad move. “Yes, where there is no truth. Think about it.” the pianist said.
I thought about it, and I lost the game. We played again. This time, he was winning when I said: “No truth means that everything can happen. There is nothing to stop anything from being, and therefore everything is possible. -Indeed,” the old pianist said, “but as soon as something exists, that something (whatever it is) defines the rules for what comes after.”
My opponent was still winning, so I tried this, I said: “There is a list, it goes like this: One, the Big Nothing. It folds itself into Something, and that’s two. Three: That’s life coming out of Something, out of matter. Certain molecules can make copies of themselves, and in the process, they build evolving systems: Life! Four: Life becomes self-conscious, and here we are: Playing chess. Now what’s five? What’s “coming out” of consciousness? Think about it!” I said, and I went on to win the game.
We didn’t play a third time, because the old pianist was tired, but before we parted he told me this: “Out of consciousness come bridges of consciousness: a connection between you and me, from you to me, from me to you and to everybody else; from everything to everything else. The result is a self-conscious universe. Think about it.”
That night I almost couldn’t sleep.
I thought about it, and I lost the game. We played again. This time, he was winning when I said: “No truth means that everything can happen. There is nothing to stop anything from being, and therefore everything is possible. -Indeed,” the old pianist said, “but as soon as something exists, that something (whatever it is) defines the rules for what comes after.”
My opponent was still winning, so I tried this, I said: “There is a list, it goes like this: One, the Big Nothing. It folds itself into Something, and that’s two. Three: That’s life coming out of Something, out of matter. Certain molecules can make copies of themselves, and in the process, they build evolving systems: Life! Four: Life becomes self-conscious, and here we are: Playing chess. Now what’s five? What’s “coming out” of consciousness? Think about it!” I said, and I went on to win the game.
We didn’t play a third time, because the old pianist was tired, but before we parted he told me this: “Out of consciousness come bridges of consciousness: a connection between you and me, from you to me, from me to you and to everybody else; from everything to everything else. The result is a self-conscious universe. Think about it.”
That night I almost couldn’t sleep.
::: ::: :::
[Picture: The old pianist by reading_is_dangerous]
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Très belle histoire. Comme d'habitude, ton dessin est soit intriguant, soit angoissant; cette fois-ci c'est l'angoisse prenante du néant qui abouti en pont entre les consciences.
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