The universe doesn't "die". It changes and reforms itself.
The death of God was reported in the 19th century.
What is dead may never die.
Was that fake news?
In 1840, about the middle of the 19th century, the electric telegraph killed the book. And as we worshipped the God of the Book, the God of the Book was killed by the electric telegraph.
The electric telegraph has gone on from strength to strength, onto the telephone, onto the radio, onto the television, and the internet, while the book has been relegated to the content of the internet.
And just as we make out tools and our tools make us, our tools make and unmake our Gods.
And we are no longer authentic literate individuals, we now play electronic roles. For instance, I play the electronic role of Mole from Wind in the Willows.
Is this news to you?
Was that fake news?
The human mortality conundrum continues.![]()
Always. Observe the predictive quality of this 'poem' by Marcia Lee Anderson. It's practically a scientific formula really.
We multiply diseases for delight,
invent a shameful want, a horrid doubt,
luxuriate in license, feed on night,
make inward bedlam — and will not come out
Why should we? Stripped of subtle complication,
who could regard the sun except with fear?
This is our shelter against contemplation,
our only refuge from the plain and clear.
Who would crawl out from under the obscure
to stand defenseless in the sunny air?
No terror of obliquity so sure
as the most shining terror of despair
to know how simple is our deepest need,
how sharp, and how impossible to feed.
Stare into the sun [MENTION=15392]Cellmold[/MENTION]. Don't look away.
I may just become one who rises with the dawn to drink in the sun.