The Infinite Monkey Metaphor
Part 1
Maybe
you’ve heard of The Infinite Monkey Theorem.
It goes
something like this:
If you take an infinite number of
monkeys
and give them an infinite number of
typewriters,
One of
the monkeys will eventually,
quite haphazardly,
rewrite William Shakespeare’s masterpiece,
Hamlet.
Word for
word,
If
they’re given enough time,
It will
happen -
With
enough Monkeys,
Typewriters,
And time.
And what
of our bodies?
And what
of our spaces?
Eventually,
The same
can be said of everything:
Every
single atom we've gathered
From across the universe and beyond,
From all
that we see
And all
that we don’t see.
Everything will implode
And collapse in that glowing, fiery crucible
Where finite moments restructure themselves
And form into a newly minted seed.
Everything will implode
Where finite moments restructure themselves
And form into a newly minted seed.
After the
singular mass
Implodes,
The
cracks will divide and expose
A
concave shell
That breaks
out of nothing
Like fibrous
tendrils pulled from an almond shell.
Here, I can smell
the river
And taste with sandy teeth.
It makes me
want to turn away
And stare back at the place
Where we wish we'd stayed longer.
Just a while longer....
And stare back at the place
And I will stay when the seed is carried
And then imparted
Carrying within it
You.
This is the fractal-you
So I bless it.
It resonates with all of the choices you made
And all of the questions you answered and asked.
The water smells like a freshwater river hidden in the sea
I discern the sweet dirt sifting
Into the mid-summer's heat.
I smell the pines and the ferns and the maples
Expanding like dough.
And then imparted
This ball of dough, now in my hands,
Is heavy, too.
It expands and contracts.
In dough, there is no beginning or end.
It’s just an endless mix
Of the former and the latter
Mixed into a batter,
Bent upon itself
Like the contortionist dancer
Who twists in between
In between
On her knees
Unbroken for the time.
Mixed into a batter,
In between
On her knees
Unbroken for the time.
I come
melting back to you this way.
Yes. You.
Given an
infinite number of monkeys
And an
infinite amount of time,
A monkey
will recode the genome sequence
And appear on the other side as you.
And you will type the words
That inevitably lead you here to find me.
After all,
The play's the thing.
And appear on the other side as you.
I will
read your words
Just as
you read these.
I will smell your river
In the binary sea.
As for
me now,
I am a monkey on his knees
Lost in the
Rabbit War.
Here, I personify an entity
And when I close my eyes and disconnect
I feel a
presence that suggests a force
I cannot
see.
Below the surface,
I
imagine the underneath-world:
My kicking, my floating legs-
I am stricken with fear.
I associate shapes with monsters
And I grapple with their disease.
Given an infinite number of monkeys
With an infinite amount of time,
One of them will figure out a way
To awaken all that ever was,
is,/or
will be.
One of them will find your life
Useful in some way.
You will be dug up and placed
Into the design of some
substructure-matrix.
Perhaps you will be part of a video game plucked from the
Limitless unknown and awakened
into--or from?--a resurrected consciousness.
Consciousness is more or less like standing in a hallway
—standing in the dead center of a hallway—
Where at the beginning one mirror points East toward
Another at the end, which points West.
The current "you," the you of now,
Stands in the center of this rectangular hallway
And your very presence divides the space.
You are the Golden Ratio.
This is the binary
Line of birth to death,
A to Z,/or
0 1
Standing amid the bouncing reflections,
You must feel like a lost echo.
But you can escape the endlessness of the motion
By simply becoming consciously
Aware of your placement in it.
Wave-Duality theory exists in you.
Only when you choose to deliberately
Observe both the past and the future,
Only when you recognize
—as a quantum observer—
The repetitions and patterns,
Can you step from the circle
(which, in this metaphor, is the hallway)
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