Austin's Super TOE

[austintorn@aol.com]

The Vault of Everything

A spirit led me onward, who knows how, toward the Library of Babel, which contains all the possible books that could ever be written, including, for example, better and worse Shakespeare plays, brand new plays, books with only one word of difference among them, everyone’s life story (even the parts not lived yet), The Secrets of the Universe, the true Theory of Everything, a lot of gibberish, and so on, as we can’t imagine.


(In fact, I found this story in there, in a short story book of mine-to-be, called ‘Short Takes’, so I just copied it to here. (yes, it said that too.))


A clear night sky of infinite possibility showered us with photons, lighting our way to the fountain of all knowledge.

“True enlightenment awaits me there,” I offered to my guiding spirit.

“Don’t be so sure, although you might chance upon it, for the deep truths of enlightenment are as needles surrounded and consumed by the near infinities of the stacks of deception and confusion, for, remember, EVERYTHING exists in this library.”

“It must be a massive building,” I remarked.

“Well, yes, but it’s bigger on the inside than on the outside; otherwise, it would have been larger than the universe.”

“Bigger on the inside? How?”

“Well, you’ll see, but I’m not sure how—maybe through some dimensional extensions—or perhaps it’s constructed digitally and expands as you move about, somehow, to conserve space. But, even with compression, it’s still hundreds of miles wide in every direction—on the inside.”

“What is Everything, in principle?”

“Every arrangement possible, given whatever constraints there are, if any. Of course, not all paths may be stable, sensible, or last very long.”

“That’s a lot—why do we live on this particular path that our Universe has taken?”

“Who the heck knows!”

“What about making substance(s) of a Universe?”

“Well, in the case of the creation of the ‘fundamental’ substance(s), let’s say, it’s every one of the ‘alphabets’ than can be conceived by the Timeless-Formless-Motionless, literally, plus all of its resultant workable combinations and interactions of substance. For this library, it is every possible arrangement of words in every language, with punctuation, too, naturally.”


“Hey, here it is. I can’t wait!”

Upon entering, they saw stacks of books in every direction, even up and down, stretching toward infinity.

“Where’s the card catalog?”

“There can’t be any, for many titles and descriptions of similar are too long. Think of the books themselves as the card catalog.”

“How’s the library organized?”

“It can’t be. It would take forever.”

“Who runs it?”

“Borges is the lone librarian, but he’s somewhere in the back and hasn’t been seen for decades.”

“OK, I’ll pick some at random.” (hours pass)

“Anything?”

“No, mostly gibberish, but I found one on a table that someone must have treasured.”

“Oh, yes, he spent his entire lifetime here. It’s Plato’s ‘Beyond Metaphysics’.”

“Wow! That’s been lost for thousands of years. But is it the true version?”

“Who knows.”

“This library contains no information whatsoever!”

“True, but there’s another library next door that also claims to have Everything.”

“You mean that little ‘hut’—no, wait—I get it—the library next door is empty.”

“Yes, the All sums to the None.”

“Wait‚ I found two more good ones in the stack right near the entrance…”

“One is by you and one is by your friend, Rascal. You put those there in the first stack so someone would find them easily and read them, even though they exist again somewhere else in the library.”

“Yes, and I’m even going to let them stick out a little on the shelf.”

…

In another chilling Borges’s story, I read the actual book that he refers to, the one whose infinite pages are ever-changing, for that's how books appear to me in my night dreams. Sometimes there are even digits occurring in the middle of words, plus, if I look away and then back, then the contents of the page have changed.

One time, when the page stabilized to quite understandable words, I realized I was reading something very profound. In fact, it was the Ultimate Answer.

I dared not look away nor try to copy it with a dream pencil, but, instead, tore out the page and crumbled it into my hand, then forced myself awake (it was a lucid dream).

When I awoke, I had the page in my hand, and it said:

This page intentionally left blank,

except for the above,

and the above, etc.

[austintorn@aol.com]

The Super TOE is Causeless,
Thus That is the Super TOE!

Our train of thought has driven us to the answer,
Of all that borne from ‘nothing’ onto eternity,
Of the origin of the original disorder,
The lone dawn of our trackless radix,
Via the rails and tunnels that ever ran out:

There cannot be ever more and more
Causes beneath even more extended causes;
Therefore, intuitive or not, the causeless is,
Being such as what we observe in the quantum.

Thus, cause is only of our higher realm,
As downward thence to its root emergence.
‘Possibility’ needed no mother but itself,
An egg burst open, born without a chicken.

The causeless bottom is the potential
Of possibility that is/was ever there.
Since it’s ‘defined’ as an undefined chaos,
There’s no problem of no initial definition had,
Since it can’t have one and so it needs not any.

Things themselves become and go of ‘virtual’ potential,
Some things remaining as the rather-enduring real.

The potential is as near to simple as it gets,
Second only to the nonexistent Nothing, of course.

So, then, the potential is of no mind or ‘seeing’,
For that thought system can never be constituted,
As there are no more fundamentals upon more,
For the Potential is already the ultimate basis.

Simple things ever combine, and further up,
And/or go must through phase changes,
Leading to more complex composites/forms.

Nothing, not existing at all,
And not even being able to,
But, perhaps threatening to,
Is the simplest state of all,
So, it must ever jiggle about as loose ‘change’.

You might say, then, that, that is exactly why
There had to be the potential for things;
Otherwise… Nothing, ever.

We have now reached the unexpected TOE,
One that even satisfies the ongoing trend,
For, looking down, we’ve always observed
The ever descending simplicity of Nature.

Now, as such, we didn’t really expect to find
An Ultimate Complexity sitting
Around there at the simplest point.

We didn’t find Mind there,
Thus we are ever free to be.

This causeless bottom ‘fate’
Was/is, too, the most ‘magical’ state,
For anything could become of it.

See ‘Science vs. God’ thread in which this somewhat simpler version of the TOE fell out of:

http://www.toequest.com/forum/intell...html#post88458

(The actual good stuff of the disproofs probably starts a few pages later…)