It must be something about like the spiritualization of matter; that matter is evolving toward quintessence, or essence, or something like that, and we’re the startled witnesses to this thing.
The basic concept is that somehow intuition and nature are reflective of each other. Until that hypothesis fails we should probably hang on to it. Because look how far we’ve gone—I mean, it is really bizarre how much of nature the human mind seems to be able to understand. I mean, my god, instruments are circling around Ganymede based on some guy in a powdered wig looking out his crenelated window, you know, figuring out this shit. How did they pull that trick off?
When do the rest of us get some of the benefit of this? In other words, when is the guy putting my fruit in my sack going to become a more pleasant person? The guy pumping gas? All these people on Prozac. Pretty soon it should begin to feed into the body politic as a sort of feeling of goodwill and temperance. But I haven’t actually seen it.
It’s an interesting situation to be told that you have a very limited amount of life left, because it composes your mind for you—wonderfully. And you start paying attention, asking the questions.
