A previous mad rambling introduced my conception of the marathon runner. Running 1/2 of the race, then 1/2 of 1/2 and so on to the sub-atomic distance. And a conclusion that the force of (dis)order, the force of lawful change, god, God, etc, being the helping force to bring you from just before the finish line to across.

My final stretch in my advanced education has brought a deeper insight into the underlying probability ruled layers of reality. A simple thermodynamic fact, tossed about in fun-fact-fashion has brought my above conclusion utterly to trial.

The fact that electron energy levels are discreet. The fact electrons at absolute zero kelvin still move. The fact that temperature is not continuous. Has somewhat shattered me. One would think, as I did, that the tiny incremental energy delta bringing my 70 degree household up to 71 is a continuous function. +0.1 degree +0.01 degree +0.001 degree and so on until our unsophisticated instruments register the change of exactly one Fahrenheit degree. And in my mind I see the linear, or maybe even not linear transition. But in reality, in statistical and mathematical reality, there are distinct energy states, levels, that do are not continuous. The electron states not moving gradually from one state to other but somehow popping from low to high without a smooth transition. Not at all like the orbit around our sun, not like a marathon racer slowly coming towards the goal. Something all together…

calculated. mathematical. Leaving no room for doubt, for that is where faith is born. It leads directly to the unfathomable despair of some kind of simulation theory of the universe. At the end of the line it is a binary 1 or 0. And not the awe inspiring breadth of all infinity between.

Somewhere below I am just the probability state functions resulting in the reality of my genome, my thoughts, my feelings. There is no comfortably wiggle room. So much for free will. So much for an intangible soul, intangible self, something spared from thermal decay.

Perhaps new revelations will inspire a renewed understanding. Or maybe I was just ignorant enough to be comfortable. Maybe our limited 3/4D experience neglects the needed information. Maybe death will unravel me to truth. Until then I shutter to think I am little different from an irrational robot. The nature vs nurture debate settled, not with a scream but with a whimper.