Sometimes the Infinite gives people a nudge. During some perfunctory action (aren’t they all?) an interruption occurs. And perhaps it’s not even a bonafide ‘interruption’ of time but merely a fissure in it.
It’s like a whisper that brings along with it an unusually high strain of importance and thus commands our attention for a fleeting second. It comes with a flash of clarity, like an alert, portending an abnormally large force nearby. And for an instant we are subjected to an unexpected heartbeat of insight that there just might be something greater out there than to which we are accustomed, something much greater.
However, with these nudges come no accompanying warnings. There are no red lights, no sirens – just fissures. And with nothing strident, as subtly as they appear, they evaporate – ironically leaving nothing but random flecks of memory about some latent ‘potentiality’ that some day we promise ourselves to explore more thoroughly.
While a ‘finite’ player may play to be powerful, an ‘Infinite’ player plays with strength. Our vision is the limitation, not what we are viewing.
A finite player puts play into time. An Infinite player puts time into play.
The ‘nudge’ is not to bring us to silence.
The ‘nudge’ is to bring us to speech . . . because of its silence.
The Infinite 