I think about business.
I think about people.
I think about people thinking.
I talk to people, so that I think together with them.
Then we're all thinking,
Each person a new lobe of a metabrain.
Bouncing thoughts from ear-lobe to ear-lobe.
I. "In the beginning was the word. And the word was
Followed by a loud crash. Then there was some scuffling and gruff shoving.
Thus bloomed the universe.
II. In the beginning was a song. And it was Bach's Partita No. 3 in E Major, the second menuet. The fields and gradients formed from rapture, the primordial stew was gently milked from stars under mathematical sways
III. Correction. In the beginning there was a big mess. Someone came and cleaned everything up, but forgot to label everything correctly. We've since moved to a different system.
IV. In the beginning, there was a magnificent sea turtle who would serenely ride the cosmic ether. There was no sea then, so she was called the ether turtle. But there was no one to call her either, this ether turtle of the nether roots of time.
So she waddled to the most viscuos of cosmic eddies and laid nine eggs. Some were planets, a few cuckoo birds, and one the sea. She grew fond of the last and settled there.
V. In the beginning, there was a vast clicking whirring cosmos, a swirling pulsing universe speckled with dancing galaxies, throbbing dark matter, and orbital wave functions that laughed when observed too closely. In that beginning there was life and it suffused the entire nubla of space, embedded in the quantum fields, growing by the sink drain, dripping from moon beams. The whole of this beginning acted as a disparate one, striving, thriving, flourishing. It died a dramatic death in the height of its lush vitality, shuddering, resisting, blood everywhere.
And thus the present emerged, naked, screaming and swathed in mucus.
VI. In the beginning, there was nothing.
Then there was a leak.
VII. Mama met Papa at the rail station. Strangers. They were married by spring. In due time they had a garden and 6 bouncing children. They grew old, the rail station is now a Walmart, and here we all are.
By Dharushana Muthulingam