Boltzmann’s idea of entropy and the Creator: An unexpected end…

While reading a scientific paper for thermodynamics (Ted Jacobson, Entropy from Carnot to Bekenstein, arXiv:1810.07839 [physics.hist-ph]) I came up to a reference of Boltzmann’s (and later on Planck’s) notion that entropy corresponds to the logarithm of the number of microstates compatible with a macrostate, and that entropy is maximized in equilibrium. Given that, one can infer astounding conclusions regarding the cosmos.

If the cosmos exists by its self, then it should have reached maximum entropy by now. But it is not in such a state, there we can safely infer the conclusion that someone has… put a finger somewhere somehow.

This starting startling conclusion is complemented by additional startling conclusions based on what we know of this cosmos that someone/ something created.

One cell comes from other cells. (Common biology knowledge)

Knowledge comes from other knowledge. (Αριστοτέλους, Αναλυτικά Ύστερα)

Everything comes from something else, so where did anything come from? Who did create this cosmos? The same cosmos which tells us that someone created it, now tells us that this cannot be true! Is there a fault in our line of thinking or have we come up with a core attribute of the cosmos which could help is unlock the mysteries of existence?

When dealing with a seemingly unsolved problem, the only possible answer is that the problem is problematic.

A cause without a cause.

An infinite number of causes.

Both wrong.

The only solution left: we are the cause ourselves. There is no result. We are God. There is nothing created. Everything just is. What we see is not there. We are simply imagining things because we cannot believe that we are part of the cosmos in the same way the cosmos is part of us.

But why do we see something which is not there?

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Again the answer must be the simplest one: because it is there.

What we see is true.

Along with what we don’t.

The essence of the cosmos cannot be deducted from its parts.

And for this we must go to the source of them all.

For that you don’t need to go far away.

Just to go back to where you started your journey.

Don’t reach for the stars.

Stop staring at the sky.

Just look in the mirror.

And ask the only question you are truly afraid to ask.

Are you yourself?

No, this is not the question.

The question is: Does it matter?

My reality. Your reality.

Why choose? Does it matter?

A world which exists.

That is left when there is nothing left.

A cosmos crying loud that it does not.

That is left when everything is there.

Dancing with nothing.

Creating everything…

A timeless past looking upon you.

As you look upon the days to come.

You are the future.

You are the past.

You are no one.

Somebody put things in order. For chaos to come and put the same things in order again. There was a river somewhere. You do feel the deep abyss in your soul. And yet you see nothing in front of you. Remember, the only answer when you can’t find the answer is that the question is wrong. Look back. Who broke that cup? There are no footprints but yours…

All you can do now is keep walking.

You will drink water again.

But with no cup but your base hands…

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