Toward the end of John Green's ever-popular The Fault in Our Stars, a eulogy is given which explores the idea of infinity. Hazel tells us, "There are infinite numbers between 0 and 1. There's .1 and .12 and .112 and an infinite collection of others. Of course there is a bigger infinite set of numbers between 0 and 2, or between 0 and a million. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities" (Green 260).
As much as it might make our brains hurt to think about it, this is mathematically true. It doesn't make sense--by the very nature of infinity's definition--but it's paradoxically accurate. Its accuracy then raises the question: if all these things are infinite, what is finite?
Human organisms, as well as the vast majority of other creatures on Planet Earth, are mortal. That's just the way we've been made. So, we know that we are finite, to a point. But then comes John Green's theory that we are living in a relative infinity, subcategorized into smaller eternities.
According to this idea, going to the supermarket to grab an extra tomato could potentially turn out to be the starting point for a massive infinity inside the short span of our lives; it could sprout an infinity inside our already finite infinity.
I'm getting a headache.
But that's just the way life is, isn't it? Philosophers and skeptics have raised arguably disturbing questions about the perceptions and misperceptions of the human mind and common culture. Consider Hilbert's paradox of the Grand Hotel: if a hotel has countably infinite rooms, and if that hotel is fully occupied, can it accept another guest?
The answer: of course. But in human, logical thinking, we immediately revert to what we know. We know that the hotel is fully occupied, so obviously, it cannot house another family. We know about the finite. But we cannot actually wrap our minds around the infinite.
As much as it might make our brains hurt to think about it, this is mathematically true. It doesn't make sense--by the very nature of infinity's definition--but it's paradoxically accurate. Its accuracy then raises the question: if all these things are infinite, what is finite?
Human organisms, as well as the vast majority of other creatures on Planet Earth, are mortal. That's just the way we've been made. So, we know that we are finite, to a point. But then comes John Green's theory that we are living in a relative infinity, subcategorized into smaller eternities.
According to this idea, going to the supermarket to grab an extra tomato could potentially turn out to be the starting point for a massive infinity inside the short span of our lives; it could sprout an infinity inside our already finite infinity.
I'm getting a headache.
But that's just the way life is, isn't it? Philosophers and skeptics have raised arguably disturbing questions about the perceptions and misperceptions of the human mind and common culture. Consider Hilbert's paradox of the Grand Hotel: if a hotel has countably infinite rooms, and if that hotel is fully occupied, can it accept another guest?
The answer: of course. But in human, logical thinking, we immediately revert to what we know. We know that the hotel is fully occupied, so obviously, it cannot house another family. We know about the finite. But we cannot actually wrap our minds around the infinite.
Consider, again, this picture of a beautiful sunset. It stretches as far as the eye can see, yet it only goes until it meets the horizon line. When the golden ball of fire finally drops into the ocean on a warm summer's night, our brains are still trying to decide if the sky's size actually has perimeters, or if our perception of infinity is just limited to what our eyes can see from a finite perspective.
Who knows?
I do believe, however, that we are certain in the knowledge that our time in life is short. Whether we live to be 10 or 100, our decades are microscopic compared to the grand scheme of history and the future. We cannot even imagine the depth of infinity. It's probably a good thing we don't live in it as humans, because then, we wouldn't know what to do with ourselves.
Who knows?
I do believe, however, that we are certain in the knowledge that our time in life is short. Whether we live to be 10 or 100, our decades are microscopic compared to the grand scheme of history and the future. We cannot even imagine the depth of infinity. It's probably a good thing we don't live in it as humans, because then, we wouldn't know what to do with ourselves.