I noticed again the mystic charm of space, that imparts a sense of individual solitude to each integer of the densest constellation, involving the smallest star with immeasurable loneliness.
Bret Harte - A Lonely Ride (1871)
Maybe this is why we don't all become astronomers, fascinating though it is to stare up into a clear night sky. There is something else apart from the fascination, something almost overwhelming at times.
4 comments:
“Le silence eternel des ces espaces infinis m'effraie - The eternal silence of these infinite spaces frightens me.” (Pascal)
I read a book once about the relationship between science and religion, and how some scientists manage to maintain a religious outlook while investigating a materialistic universe. Apparently, astronomers are far more likely to have a religious sensibility and to believe in a creator than biologists. I particularly liked the reason suggested by the author: whereas vast cosmic loneliness might require a sense of a personal creator to make it feel safe and manageable, nobody who studies the unspeakable things that living creatures do to one another could think creation was anything other than a pointless shit-show.
But what is out there; you know, the bit beyond what you can see?
Michael - do you mean this endless 4king cloud?
Sam - yes it is easy to see how the majesty of the universe could induce religious sensibilities. Making it even slightly personal isn't easy though - the impersonal comes through so strongly.
Scrobs and Jannie - it's a vast eye trying to see if everything is working properly.
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