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Dimension (God) of the Universe


In the days when the barometer shows values \u200b\u200bhigher than 1050 mbar, in the library of the lighthouse an atmosphere conducive to reflection (Perhaps useless) on the meaning of existence, the meaning of the universe. Why does the universe bother to exist?, Very properly says Stephen Hawking.

Georges Lemaitre, a physicist who in his spare time was a Jesuit priest, or, conversely, a Jesuit priest who in his spare time was a physicist, proposed a theory explaining the enigma (can be called a very limited connotation its importance) of the expansion of the universe from a finite time in the past. The model was then proposed Lemaitre mockingly called the "Big Bang". It all started in an instant, "occurred under the most currently accepted in 1700 for thirteen years, too intense to be explained by the verb , with the words that we are able to articulate the current homo sapiens with brains of a liter and a half, everything comes from nothing, the same place where none existed before. In less than a minute from that original moment, the universe grew to a million million miles long, an "eternity", then that is, less than three minutes from time zero, ninety-eight percent of all matter that has been and will ever had been created. Before this birth, time does not exist, because there was no past where he have emerged. In those initial seconds constants were established governing the universe, the six numeric values \u200b\u200bthat govern it, if any of these numbers out even just a little different, none of the complex atomic structures like living beings could exist. Did the these numbers at random, or perhaps obey a logic too arcane to be understood? Is there an order behind the apparent arbitrariness of nature? Or, as Einstein asked: "Did God have choice when creating the Universe?".
The Big Bang may represent a transition phase of the universe in a way that no one can understand that it is almost impossible to explain, it is feasible that space and time before the Big Bang have a ways beyond our current understanding, and would need an evolutionary process continued to increase in, say, half a liter cubic brain size in order to have neural connections capable of fully understand this mystery. Dr. Martin Bojowals
the Max Planck Institute in Germany says: "The universe has no beginning. Has always existed. " One moment, I think I have heard this somewhere, is not this what we have always said the lords of religion? with their views at times as far apart from those of these men of science have been proposed to explain a universe without displaying the hand of a deity.
This leads to José Antonio Marina, a English physicist and philosopher who coined a particular expression, "the divine dimension of reality" as his point of view of the existing order, the Real Universe, shows some of the features traditional religions attribute to God.
Here:
"You can not record in their existence, since those records should exist
too.
-is self-sufficient. No need for anything outside itself to exist.
"There's opponents (otherwise it would be nothing, it's nothing).
For Marina this divine dimension of reality is experienced by many human beings as religious experience and embody some religions call God.

is curious that there is an apparent intersection of criteria with fundamentalism as advocated by some religions for centuries and what they believe now discover their own lords of science. GK Chesterton said it best, an atheist: the Universe is the most exquisite mechanism ever built by anyone.







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Restoring Metal Tables

Praxis and Theory Small

THIS DEEP IN THE AMAZON TRIBE HAS NEVER BEEN IN CONTACT WITH THE WHITE MAN OR WITH THESE THINGS entelechy as civilized ADAPTS SOFT SITES as wild as university faculty or the literary cafes.

few days ago someone asked me to talk explicitly about Archipelago, my novel published a few months ago, to tell something about its plot, its characters, its style. My answer surprised the party, as the Author I am the least likely to talk about these issues. "Oh I see, not the novel you speak of modesty, I again asked the person, and at that moment I realized that these issues could be modesty, how I had not thought before, and although I saw tempted to answer that yes, my reticence was caused because I am a man so modest and virtuous, I decided, just this once, and without it becoming a precedent for future responses, by insisting on an honest answer: I have no more clue. Is that without going as far to label the author as a mere medium of dark and unknown unconscious, I as an author I have absolutely no idea why the events occurred in the plot, which appear nothing these characters or the style or voice or see a particular frame of mind.
And it really is very little that I can say of the archipelago, not lie anymore, I mean without adding more lies than those of more than 340 pages and I put in black and white, in exercise of the right to lie that as gods of a minor child have the writers. I can, however, say that Archipelago is an exploration, which, as befits any issue that respects itself wants to leave, of course, more questions than answers, suggested trails and doubtful strict and meticulous GPS coordinates . It's like one of those maps in a row that after nearly to estribabor scurvy traced the ancient cartographers, where most of the territory was marked "Terra Incognita" and the novel can be considered as the unknown territory that is left that way for readers who transit, light up and finish repaint sometimes blurred outlines, as one's own prejudices, realities and ways to decode the world of each. In the end, is only an unfinished world, only slightly Mercator Scale suggested the creation by the author.
Archipelago is a journey, a ride on a roller coaster, a device to provoke emotions of various kinds. It is a thinly veiled desire to exaggerate, to lie, which began I read a quote from Luis Buñuel, who later ended up as heading in the same novel which inspired beginning, said Buñuel to live life is to contradict oneself, and that phrase was what started me writing and certainly to lie.
Speaking of lies, Ricardo Martin recently spoke about the act of writing as a need to lie and the difficulty that this action is: it is quite difficult to prevail over the truth in a world in which this truth, this reality goes beyond providing without much effort to any attempt of fiction, ie any effort to lie. Despite this superiority is likely reality, literature will always be his power also evoke the existing realities and never lived to influence the way the world looks like, the world interpreted through different eyes, in a final interpretation that the reader can Conclude incorporating its own way of seeing the world.
If it is true that the greatest mystery of modern biology, as stated by Francis Crick, the co-discoverer of DNA, goes about solving the mystery of the physiological process by which photons of light after passing through the retina and then end up being memories, experiences, in sleepless nights, in a list of nostalgic events that can then be retraced, literature, biology does not know either of these things, nor does it need- intact ability to summon emotions, memories and that, as if a magic spell, is the prodigious capacity to generate feelings and vivid memories of things that literature never gets the source of its magnetism, its lasting effect through of time.
said British writer Zadie Smith a well-written text urges us to accept the author's own vision. So says the Smith, you spend the morning reading Chekhov and in the afternoon, walking around the neighborhood, the world has become "Chekhoviano." I realize that I myself have felt these enchantments of literature. Thus, if the morning of my childhood I was reading Tom Sawyer or any novel by Verne, in the afternoon I was no longer the same and instead of walking with friends along the banks of the river as pedestrian Liberia in the Barrio El Capulin, I went touring the Limpopo or the Mississippi in search of a baobab or the raft of Huck. That is one of the magical effects of literature that would be worth talking at greater length.
For me, the practice of literature should be a toy, an abstract and playful, the closest thing you can actually get from the solitude of my lighthouse eyed a stroll in jocotes apear on a summer afternoon or a Fut mejenga until it's dark with friends, who should preferably be worst soccer players who one inwardly aspire to that literature is the substitute of any of these ephemeral corner of paradise we all want to suffer.
Steiner said that in the present age the greatest luxury is silence from the silence and away from the canons and pompous theories, "what can I do is that one is a province-is that I prefer to engage in serious lack of the commission writing texts of the mask, but all with the same pedigree mutt who is the only one I get, rather than trying to strive prolijitos and symmetrical cross the golf courses in literary theory. So, writing is engaging with the fruits of that silence in the creation of works of art, as Kandinsky said, is like taking part in the creation of the world. Because, although not always recognized, lying is always created.

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