Nine Billion Names Of God
Once nine billion names of God were known
the world would end, the monks declared.
When scientists transferred them from a stone
on which He’d written them, they then compared
these names to those of all the stars astronomers
had managed to discover, and thus found
a proof their names were all eponymous,
based on a God, who out of sight and sound,
left traces in the starry sky that He
exists, the Founder of the universe.
Once this was known, they could no longer see
the stars, which He extinguished with a curse,
because although He challenges us to know
His names, He does not want us to find out
precisely where the trees of knowledge grow,
because His universe is based on doubt.
Dennis Overbye (“A Boy’s Life, Guided by the Cosmic Wonder, ” NYT, March 25,2007) writes about the science fiction writer and space visionary, the co-creator with Stanley Kubrick of the classic 1968 movie “2001: A Space Odyssey”. Overbye, who was greatly influenced by Clarke’s writings which he describes as the ultimate reason why he ended up becoming an MIT graduate, reports that a supernova exploded in the constellation Boötes on the day of Clarke’s death:
It was the remains of a cataclysmic explosion, a gamma-ray burst, that must have torched a galaxy seven billion light-years away, around the curve of the cosmos, as Clarke might have put it. Nobody knows if there could have been somebody or something living there, when the universe was half its present age. When I heard about it I couldn’t help thinking about Clarke’s Jesuit and the star of Bethlehem. Whoever or whatever was there now belongs to the ages. Darkness has now reclaimed that spot in the sky.
Overbye also writes:
In his short story “The Nine Billion Names of God, ” published in 1953, Clarke wrote of a pair of computer programmers sent to a remote monastery in Tibet to help the monks there use a computer to compile a list of all the names of God. Once the list was complete, the monks believed, human and cosmic destiny would be fulfilled and the world would end. The programmers are fleeing the mountain, hoping to escape the monks’ wrath when the program finishes and the world is still there, when one of them looks up. “Overhead, without any fuss, the stars were going out.”
3/25/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Related quotes
We on Earth have just awakened to the great oceans of space and time from which we have emerged. We are the legacy of 15 billion years of cosmic evolution. We have a choice: We can enhance life and come to know the universe that made us, or we can squander our 15 billion-year heritage in meaningless self-destruction. What happens in the first second of the next cosmic year depends on what we do, here and now, with our intelligence and our knowledge of the cosmos.
quote by Carl Sagan
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I'm very influenced by landscapes, not so much the way places look as the way the names sound. In this country we've got so many cultures, and the place names - the Spanish names and the Indian names, which are so incredibly musical.
quote by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beyond Mirrors
The age of science has failed to explain our universe in rational terms.
Consequently the power of magic has gradually emerged from our conscious minds to fathom the unfathomable.
Our most distinguished scientists reluctantly admit, that mankind is nothing but some billion creatures, sitting on a piece of solar driftwood floating in space.
Magic is the art of influencing the cause of events by the intervention of spiritual forces or some other occult device.
According to arthur c. clarke any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.
Early civilization often mistook the unexplainable world around them to be magic.
Rupert sheldrake in his book seven experiments that could change the world has stated that scientists attitude toward their experiments affect the results of their experiments.
There is no such thing as a definite fact in science and therefore the irrationality of magic plays an important part in our rational world.
Werner heisenberg, the leading 20th. century physicist has stated, that mass is a physical interpretation of energy.
Religious organizations have understood the power of magic; and therefore monopolized the interpretation of the supernatural to control the human mind.
The universe as a whole is beyond explanation.
Only at the end of the 20th century the roman catholic church admitted, that the great visionary galileo galilei was, in fact, correct.
The second millennium has come to an end. scientists have to admit that the universe is magic.
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not Every Poem Knows How To Say Its Own Name Properly
NOT EVERY POEM KNOWS HOW TO SAY ITS OWN NAME PROPERLY
Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly-
There are poems that have no name
And poems that are named by others who have not written them-
There are poems whose names make them what they are
And poems whose names contradict and belie them-
Many poems have their first lines as their names
And these poems often are as memorable as one line only-
Great poems and good poems can be nameless
Or can have unforgettable names.
Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly -
Poems are poems are poems
And names are names are names
And sometimes they meet and are one
And live happily ever after-
But there are times when perhaps
They never should have met each other at all.
Poems have their names
And names have their poems
But sometimes they love each other
And truly are one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Between the Creator and Me
I look through my body
at the world, the stars, moons,
stars beyond stars
I know there are stars, moons
stars beyond stars too
circling all within my finite self
this temporary sphere I am crowned with
the aura that shines from these
trillion of cells
all the moving atoms,
electrons, protons,
the universe inside and out
I look at them
from my infinite self
god the puppeteer
skillfully playing
the beginning, the end
I came out of the two walls
the human brain is kept in
to take a peep at myself, the universe
the moons, suns, universe,
stars beyond stars
I find a galaxy I possess
so many stars, moons, suns
the cells blazing with life, light
all working out of my control
as I join god to take
a look at his worlds
a meteor flashes by
a cell loses hold
flushed by blood to another world
all the stars, moons,
universe outside and inside
all the cells that I own
that soon would squeeze me out
to join the plane
where I could view
the beat of the universe
standing beside god
witnessing all his designs
wondering all the motives
behind his pupputeering
the moons, the suns, the universe
the cells acting out his drama round and round
casting off light
I saw a star burst
light light years away
the cancer patient
carrying a cell
that too has burst
soon to cast that black hole
over the finite self
the infinite journeys to
rest on another finite self
the universe
I stand by the creator
to look at his puppeteering
wondering his motives in his design
my mind flying outside the brain
I look at the the world, universe,
stars, moon, meteors, stars beyond stars
and myself that
swing with stars, moons,
stars beyond stars
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Outside Myself
I look through my body
at the world, the stars, moons,
stars beyond stars
I know there are stars, moons
stars beyond stars too
circling all within my finite self
this temporary sphere I am crowned with
the aura that shines from these
trillion of cells
all the moving atoms,
electrons, protons,
the universe inside and out
I look at them
from my infinite self
god the puppeteer
skillfully playing
the beginning, the end
I came out of the two walls
the human brain is kept in
to take a peep at myself, the universe
the moons, suns, universe,
stars beyond stars
I find a galaxy I possess
so many stars, moons, suns
the cells blazing with life, light
all working out of my control
as I join god to take
a look at his worlds
a meteor flashes by
a cell loses hold
flushed by blood to another world
all the stars, moons,
universe outside and inside
all the cells that I own
that soon would squeeze me out
to join the plane
where I could view
the beat of the universe
standing beside god
witnessing all his designs
wondering all the motives
behind his pupputeering
the moons, the suns, the universe
the cells acting out his drama round and round
casting off light
I saw a star burst
light light years away
the cancer patient
carrying a cell
that too has burst
soon to cast that black hole
over the finite self
the infinite journeys to
rest on another finite self
the universe
I stand by the creator
to look at his puppeteering
wondering his motives in his design
my mind flying outside the brain
I look at the the world, universe,
stars, moon, meteors, stars beyond stars
and myself that
swing with stars, moons,
stars beyond stars
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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My Own Names
My names are fed to the choir,
The choristers will lose our space
For the instruction.
The names of our fore-fathers are inscribed
In our hearts, in those hearts is heat.
The pen is sold to the buyer of blasphemy,
He swears against the names I own.
My own job has a penny or two away
From becoming a solid command.
The commands are total and complete,
Fair and happening to the whole choir.
Names will sort out fancy and medicine.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Vicious Games
I never knew
How much I loved you
I never knew
How much I cared
So I played
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
I was afraid
To go under
Afraid to see
When I closed my eyes
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
I never knew
How much I loved you
I never knew
How much I care
I just played
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Now that youre gone
And you have left me
I had to learn
I had to learn how much it hurts
To play those vicious games
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vicious Games
I never knew
How much I loved you
I never knew
How much I cared
So I played
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
I was afraid
To go under
Afraid to see
When I closed my eyes
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
I never knew
How much I loved you
I never knew
How much I care
I just played
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Now that youre gone
And you have left me
I had to learn
I had to learn how much it hurts
To play those vicious games
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The theory and remedy
Time in a billion years after
Shall cease
And everything grinds to a halt,
Do you not feel the distant stars
Moving faster away from you?
Things move away rapidly
Stars explode
On the fringes of this universe
Shooting through space
Jump then to another
Universe
Before ours gets used up
The luxury of worrying
About our age
Shall now dissipate
On a rundown universe
At any rate why
Worry? I do not intend
to go 60
33 was just perfect.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Big Bang with Horizon Problem
The crocodile rested idly on the Nile bank.
The Sun rose toward the zenith in the sky,
The hot air was trembling over unstirred grass
And an Egyptian plover landed near the river.
“Long time no see”, the crocodile said.
“Oh, I am very busy”, the wading bird answered.
“Is that so? ” the crocodile inquired.
“Oh yes”, the plover said, “I study astronomy.”
“Have you ever heard of the Horizon Problem? ” the plover asked.
“No, this is the first time that I hear that the horizon has a problem”.
“Well, we talk here about the horizon of the universe
And it is a scientific mystery. Mind you, the primeval atom
At the beginning of time exploded in the so called Big Bang
Nearly 14 billion years ago. Now, as you might know,
Nothing can travel faster than light. But when you look
Across the vast space of the visible cosmos, from one edge
To the other, you ought to consider that these two edges are
Approximately 28 billion years apart.”
“So what? ” the crocodile asked.
The plover took a deep breath. “Well, if nothing can travel
Faster than light and the universe is 14 billion years old,
How can the two edges of the universe be 28 billion years apart? ”
“Oh, I see”, the crocodile said.
“Maybe the Big Bang Theory is wrong”.
“Why”, the bird said, “the problem involves the exchange
Of information, energy and heat because these also
Can only occur at the speed of light.”
“I am somewhat at a loss to follow you”, the crocodile said.
“Look! Different distant regions of outer space in the cosmos
Are very far from each other and cannot communicate.
In spite of this, the microwave background radiation
Filling in the universe seems inscrutably uniform.
It measures the same temperature everywhere.”
“So, to me”, the crocodile said, “this just proves again
That the Big Bang Theory is wrong”.
“Not necessarily”, the plover objected.
“Consider, for example, the possibility that at its birth,
In less than a second after the Big Bang,
The early universe underwent an extremely rapid process
Of exponential expansion so that all its parts originated
In a casually connected region. Astrophysicists call this
Exponential expansion the Theory of Cosmic Inflation”.
“I am very impressed by your erudition”, the crocodile said.
“Thank you”, smiled the bird. “Also, Cosmic Inflation Theory
Can explain why the universe appears to be flat, isotropic
And homogenous, that is to say uniform in all orientation.”
“Flat? How can it be flat? ” the crocodile asked.
“My understanding is”, said the bird, “that when scientists
Talk about a flat universe, they mean a doughnut shaped
Three dimensional topological object known as torus.”
“Wow”, the crocodile exclaimed. “This is really amazing.
Yet I have another hypothesis. How about the possibility
That the speed of light has changed throughout the ages
After this colossal firecracker event of the Big Bang happened.”
“I think we should end this conversation now”,
The plover said, “because some humans are watching us
And they look like hunters rather than biologists.”
“Do not worry”, the crocodile said,
“They have no idea that we are aliens.”
poem by Paul Hartal
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Names Are Special
My names are special, extra special and more,
The need for food is increased by the age and maturity.
Names laugh and cry like certain cookery ingredients
For a rich dish, or a casserole, or a pudding.
Food is eaten from the day that was the first
To the last and final day of your period on this world.
You must accept those with surnames,
And let no snake interfere, just let no adder crawl.
The devils hide their names,
But do not and do not copy them
For your names are not hidden,
For people need you and their attention is on you.
Names are revered, and their calling is exact,
May you leave us and join the brigade of Life.
poem by Naveed Akram
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120
The theory and remedy
Time in a billion years after
Shall cease
And everything grinds to a halt,
Do you not feel the distant stars
Moving faster away from you?
Things move away rapidly
Stars explode
On the fringes of this universe
Shooting through space
Jump then to another
Universe
Before ours gets used up
The luxury of worrying
About our age
Shall now dissipate
On a rundown universe
At any rate why
Worry? I do not intend
to go 60
33 was just perfect.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We inhabit a universe where atoms are made in the centers of stars; where each second a thousand suns are born; where life is sparked by sunlight and lightning in the airs and waters of youthful planets; where the raw material for biological evolution is sometimes made by the explosion of a star halfway across the Milky Way; where a thing as beautiful as a galaxy is formed a hundred billion times - a Cosmos of quasars and quarks, snowflakes and fireflies, where there may be black holes and other universe and extraterrestrial civilizations whose radio messages are at this moment reaching the Earth. How pallid by comparison are the pretensions of superstition and pseudoscience; how important it is for us to pursue and understand science, that characteristically human endeavor.
Carl Sagan in Cosmos
Submitted by Catalin Popescu
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We have come through a strange cycle in programming, starting with the creation of programming itself as a human activity. Executives with the tiniest smattering of knowledge assume that anyone can write a program, and only now are programmers beginning to win their battle for recognition as true professionals. Not just anyone, with any background, or any training, can do a fine job of programming. Programmers know this, but then why is it that they think that anyone picked off the street can do documentation? One has only to spend an hour looking at papers written by graduate students to realize the extent to which the ability to communicate is not universally held. And so, when we speak about computer program documentation, we are not speaking about the psychology of computer programming at all - except insofar as programmers have the illusion that anyone can do a good job of documentation, provided he is not smart enough to be a programmer.
Gerald Weinberg in The Psychology of Computer Programming
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Want My Name So Much To Be A Name
I WANT MY NAME SO MUCH TO BE A NAME
I want my name so much to be a name-
But when I am gone
What will that name mean to me?
Your name too
What will it mean
In the great distances?
Names and more names
Only G-d knows.
God has many names
And no name
And only One Name
Why should I insist so much
On my own name?
When only God can know
All the Names
Even God’s own.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Seeing the world with god
i look through my body
at the world, the stars, moon
stars beyond stars
i know there are stars, moon
stars beyond stars too
from my temporary sphere
the aura that shines
from this physical self
the trillion of cells
all the moving atoms,
electrons, protons
the universe inside and out
i look at them
from my infinite self
god the puppeteer
shrewdly playing
the beginning, the end
the two walls
between the human brain
the man innocently walks
to oblivion
some attempt to broaden the width
others like me attempt to
to burst out of the walls
to take a peep outside
the limitations, this physical self
the world outside
the god inside and out
the moon, sun, universe
the things outside
i too have become a galaxy
as i join god to take
a look at his worlds
a meteor flashes by
a cell loses hold
flushed by blood
to another world
an infinite me
looking at the finite me
all the stars, moons,
universe outside
and inside
all the cells that i own
that soon would
squeeze me out
to join the plane
where i could view
the beat of the universe
the expansive universe
myself a galaxy
the zillion of selves
those stars, suns
spinning towards
a full stop?
eternity?
the human brain
stretched towards
a world of no end
suffocated in its attempt
i stand beside god
for just a moment
to take a peek at
all his workings
wondering all the motives
behind his pupputeering
the moons, the suns, the universe
the cells acting out his drama
round and round
casting off light
i saw a star burst
light light years away
the cancer patient
carrying a cell
that too has burst
soon to cast that black hole
over the finite self
the infinite journeys to
rest on another finite self
the universe
i standby the creator
to look at his puppeteering
wondering his motives
in his design
the privilege he gives me
to share a view
of his craft
my mind flying
outside the two walls
of the brain
instead of between
infinity
my body
the universe
i look at them
like the stars, moon, meteors
this infinite me
with a finite self
of stars, moons,
stars beyond stars
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Faces & Names
Faces and names, I wish they were the same
Faces and names only cause trouble for me
Faces and names
If we all looked the same and we all had the same name
I wouldnt be jealous of you or you jealous of me
Faces and names
I always fall in love with someone who looks
The way I wish that I could be
Im always staring at someone who hurts
And the one they hurt is me
Faces and names, to me theyre all the same
If I looked like you and you looked like me
Thered be less trouble you see
Faces and names, I wish theyd go away
Id disappear into that wall and never talk
Talk, not talk
I wish I was a robot or a machine
Without a feeling or a thought
People who want to meet the name I have
Are always disappointed when they meet me
Faces and names, I wish they were the same
Faces and names only cause problems for me
Faces and names
Id rather be a hole in the wall
Looking out on the other side
Id rather look and listen, listen and not talk
To faces and names
If I had a breakdown when I was a kid
I lost my hair when I was young
If you dress older when youre not
As your really age you look the same
If we all looked the same, we wouldnt play these games
Me dressing for you and you dressing for me
Undressing for me
Faces and names, if they all were the same
You wouldnt be jealous of me or me jealous of you
Me jealous of you, me jealous of you
Your face and your name
Your face and your name
Faces and names
Faces and names
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bridge-life
Bridge-life open the room and pass
Through greenfield upside down.
The air I feel not mine
I the passerby move forward
With open eyes to see
The light multiplicity.
Mine is the room of watertight
If I want to know something
I dipped ding and
Diminish in dim dike.
I am the water I am the light
I am in this world
This world is mine
For convenience
Different names given
To identify temorarily
Diffrent places.
Names are not true
The world is true I am in this world
I am true.
Names are no true
And true names are there
They are true
You can modify
You can change
You cannot modify
You cannot change.
Bridgelife always here
always alltimes to come
The world is alive
So I am.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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You can change the names
You can change the names
of places and call them,
what you want.
My people who life there,
will still be living there
next year and for many years more.
You can change the personnel
that work for the city
and the inadequate delivery of services
and corruption,
will in time make you
pay a handsome bill.
You can change the names of streets,
and fashion them
to your heroes.
Never could you undo
the acts of those
whose names they originally bared
and everyone that uses them
will still know
what they were called before.
Without fixing the roads
people will remember
about the holes in Slovo street
and the dead robots in Mandela drive,
which will keep them alive
You can change the names of airports
for its better that way,
that the world knows
that they coming
to an new country
that’s has fallen years behind,
from where it was before.
poem by Gert Strydom
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