Life is long and short. Minutes are measured in seconds, counted off by clocks and we being who we are must have that exactness that comes with the precise mechanizations of machines. And so we pare down the seconds to micro-seconds and beyond, always searching for certainty.

It is, afterall, about certainty.

We have to show that we have control, that we are in control. That we know. That we can. But although our ancestral fur has dropped off we are still apes afraid of our own shadows.

Life is long and short. we are even afraid of the time we have, filling it up with mundane tasks meant to give us meaning in a meaningless world; a world that we have created. We have no reason and so we create one, a reason to validate our existence.

Whatever that reason is does not (in the end matter): gods, money, children, family. It doesn’t matter if we have our heads buried in the minutia of infinity.