Fermi speaks, Planck. Sunlight pours hard through the lofty windows along the southern wall of the hotel. My friends and I are in the last row of seats. An unscientific smile lifts at the corners of my mouth even as I struggle to follow him through a lightening labyrinth of proofs. Eschatologists concern themselves with the study of last things, historians with what has come before.
Novelists are mythmakers interested in both.
Shamans have always been middlemen. Magicians dignified by the social purpose of their mischief, a function that extends beyond diversion and messes with souls and spirits. Writings on a cave wall, hidden from history down in the darkness of the middle world. Complementarity introduced an axiom of ambiguity into the system of physical science, and this did not sit well with many of the older physicists who were in the room that day. The stones under my feet clacked and rattled hollowly just as they had the night before.