The Upsizers

I’m looking for people to read – and comment on – my new novel, The Inside Girl, before I submit it for publication. (The cover at right is a simulation.)

HOW IT WORKS: I will send you the manuscript in your choice of PDF or a Word File, along with a brief (10 question) questionnaire as a Word file. Just read the book and complete and return the questionnaire. If you like, you can play editor and make comments right in the manuscript.

WHAT YOU GET: A mention in the Acknowledgements and, upon publication, a FREE signed copy.

HOW TO VOLUNTEER: Simply provide your email address and format preference at haldirect@aol.com

SYNOPSIS OF THE INSIDE GIRL

In the near future, America has been divided into two sides: the Inside and the Outside.

To the citizens of Town Center Community, a shopping mall that has been converted into living spaces and sealed off, the Outside might as well be another planet. They have not communicated with, or even seen the Outside for almost two decades. They don’t know if anyone is alive out there, or, if they are, how they live.

Kimberly has lived her whole life in the Town Center Community. She is 17 years old and has never been outdoors.

Kim has just found out that her mother, who she has not seen since she was three, was expelled from the community for an illegal second pregnancy. And now she wants to leave the safety and comfort of her structure to look for her mother and the sibling she didn’t know she had. It will be a one-way trip; once you leave an Inside community, you cannot return.

Once gone, never welcomed.

Accompanied by her father and two “expellees,” she ventures into completely foreign territory — the ruined city just outside her structure. They find her mother in an Outside community that is harboring a terrible secret, a community from which they must escape before they can even begin the struggle to simply survive in the Outside, where Kim will discover love for the first time, and hold out hope that she will one day be reunited with her best friend, who she has left behind in Town Center.

“The Inside Girl” is a novel about what is worth risking your way of life for. And how one determined girl can change everything.

“The Coded Girl,” has a unique hero: a 12-year-old girl who has lost the use of her legs in a car accident.

Although talented, creative and smart, Kelly Phillips feels isolated. Other kids, and most adults, just don’t know what to do around a girl in a wheelchair.

So when Kelly gets a new game from her uncle’s software company, one that promises “You’ll never be lonely again,” she’s eager to try it out. It’s a beta version, though, and there may still be a few bugs.

Okay, maybe more than a few.

And when she’s literally pulled into the game, she finds that she can walk, but that she can’t get out. So she and her coded friend Francesco begin an adventure that’s part Alice in Wonderland, part Wizard of Oz, and part Ready Player One.

Every kid who has been marginalized for being different will find a hero in Kelly. And so will every kid who’s ever wanted to lead a different life, which is really every kid.

“The Coded Girl” is a novel that asks “What is normal?”

Our daughter was two when we started. It was her second Christmas, but the first she was truly conscious of, with the expectation of presents, and lights and a tree. By then, Lucy knew all about Santa Claus, and Carla and I were determined to keep him alive as long as possible.

It may have been more for us than for Lucy.

If Santa was alive, we thought (but didn’t say out loud), so was our daughter’s childhood, her innocence, her belief in possibilities.

So that Christmas, Carla and Lucy baked cookies for Santa, and we put them on a paper plate that Lucy had decorated, and, at Lucy’s insistence, we added a note to let Santa know that the treats were, in fact, for him. While Lucy slept, Carla and I ate the cookies, carefully leaving a few crumbs on the table. I wrote a message in red marker: “Thank you for the cookies, Lucy. They were delicious.”

In the morning, Lucy ran to the plate before she even looked at the pile of presents under the tree. Carla took a photo. I’m looking at it now: Lucy in her princess nightgown, her amazed face perfectly framed by her straight blonde hair, her green eyes bright and full of wonder, her smile as wide as a crescent moon.

The next Christmas, the note Lucy found on the table mentioned that Rudolph had enjoyed the cookies as well. Carla was annoyed that I insisted on making a trail of cookie crumbs from the table to the fireplace, but she dutifully shot video. It’s on my phone: Lucy in her Little Mermaid pajamas, on her hands and knees, stalking the crumbs like a miniature Sherlock Holmes, finally gazing up the flue in astonishment. I remember that Carla made me immediately vacuum the crumbs while Lucy played with her new toys and Carla, eight months pregnant, went back to bed.

The following year, Lucy was four, and already beginning to ask questions, to have doubts. How big was the sleigh to hold all those presents? How did the reindeer fly when they didn’t have wings? What about kids who lived in apartments like her cousins in Manhattan? That was the year I purchased footprint stencils ($11.99 on Amazon) and tracked them through the living room using baking soda.

In the photo, Lucy’s hands are on her hips and one eyebrow is raised. Like she was willing to go along with it, but wasn’t wholeheartedly buying it anymore. Like she was humoring us. However, there is video of her new sister Caitlin, born the previous January and just starting to walk. Cait is wobbling as she tries to match Santa’s steps.

This year, Lucy is five, and all the discussions about Christmas Eve prep are undertaken with a wink and a nudge. “Would Santa like chocolate chip or peanut butter?” she asks with a hint of the sarcasm she is working hard to develop. “Should you go up on the roof and leave something for the reindeer? What do reindeer eat? Should we call a chimney sweep so Santa doesn’t get dirty?” (We have recently watched Mary Poppins.)

Meanwhile, life has more or less returned to a pre-covid normal, and we have told the girls we can go to the mall this year to see Santa in person. Admittedly, Caitlin is more excited about this than Lucy, who would clearly rather get her nails done while at the mall. But, once there, even she is enraptured by the tableau: Santa in full regalia, sitting on an ornate throne, surrounded by elves and animatronic reindeer, their heads nodding and Rudolph’s nose blinking red like a caution light.

We stand on a long line, watching a model train run circles around Santa’s little village and its white picket fence. The queue moves slowly because pictures of each child must be perfect, and this turns out to be fortunate, because the four of us are still a distance away from Santa when the lunatic with the Taurus 9mm semiautomatic pistol begins firing.

At first, he does not bother aiming. People scream and glass shatters, the shards showering the panicked crowd like shimmering snowflakes. Then he hones in. Rudolph’s head disintegrates, his nose going dark. Elves spin and fall, and the child that had been on Santa’s knee topples to the ground as Santa doubles over clutching his well-padded belly. Children cry in pain and/or terror. Parents cradle their offspring protectively or pull them toward the exits, trampling the slow-moving. The gunman has been counting it seems, and he has saved the last round for himself. His head, like Rudolph’s, explodes, but much more colorfully, like liquid fireworks, the fountain of red blending nicely with the Christmas decorations.

It is over quickly. Two elves (both, it turns out, local high school girls), three children (including the one who had been earnestly discussing gifts with Santa), and Santa himself (Elliot Goldstein, of Weehawken NJ, in his first year as mall Santa) have been shot.

Only the elves die from their wounds, and the news media make the most of the “Christmas miracle” that Santa survived..

But there is no keeping him alive for Lucy.

Author’s note: The tree shown in the title graphic above is an actual item, the Puleo International Pre-Lit 4′ Fiber Optic Patriotic Artificial Christmas Tree, that was available at Kohls.com for $199.99.

MY SHORT STORY COLLECTION, “FAKER’S DOZEN,” IS NOW AVAILABLE IN KINDLE AND PAPERBACK EDITIONS. CLICK THE LINK AT RIGHT.

Author’s Note: This is the final installment of my serialized short story, “Delivered.” If you missed the Fifth Message, click here. To read from the beginning, click here.)

As I pointed out myself in my first email, lots of people don’t believe in God, even if they say they do. Conversely, lots of people do believe in God (or some higher power), even if they say they don’t. You can hear them talking to God whenever they’re in trouble, or when something amazes them or grosses them out. Non-believers are always OMGing.

At the end of the day (so to speak), it didn’t matter whether or not you believed the end was nigh. Because enough people did to ruin life for everybody.

For instance, some people set about fulfilling every sexual desire they’d ever had. There was no need for protection; any STDs would be short-lived, no pregnancy would come to term.

Still others began committing all sorts of heinous acts on the theory that they’d never be prosecuted. Here is where the full breadth of human creativity and ingenuity and depravity was on display. After the initial round of looting, there was a rash of raping. Women armed themselves and hunkered down. Then things escalated even more. Those who were so inclined began murdering anyone who had ever offended them, often in the most gruesome ways imaginable. Explosives were employed at hated institutions: cable companies were demolished, insurance company headquarters went off like fireworks, the U.S. Capitol didn’t stand a chance.

People blew stuff up just for the joy of destruction.

Certain world leaders took things further. As soldiers in neighboring countries left their posts, it seemed like the perfect time to use stockpiled missiles to expand one’s territory. Maps would have had to have been redrawn on an hourly basis if there had been anyone available to handle the cartography.

Clearly, things had gotten out of hand. But that was okay. I now had proof of concept for my Global One Delivery system. I had demonstrated to investors that here was a way to reach everyone in the world simultaneously, in their language, with messages that could not be deleted or tracked back to their source. It was perfect for warnings, for marketing, for propaganda. It would totally disrupt the electronic communication category. And once I completed the coding to enable links to websites, I was sure GOD would be the next Google.

But I realized now that I probably shouldn’t have gotten so caught up with punning off my service’s acronym. Or, at least, I shouldn’t have been so preachy about it. And perhaps I should have been more transparent about what GOD is vs. what God is. And, okay, maybe it was a horrible idea to spout my personal and possibly misguided beliefs while teasing my company.

Anyway, as the world descended into chaos (talk about disruptive!), I began to feel guilty. Not to mention, if these lunatics actually managed to cause the end of the world, it would be difficult to find venture capitalists. So I took action to stop the carnage.

I didn’t want to apologize, though. So I just clarified.

*****

“I am GOD.

Do you remember when I told you about how tiny your place was in the universe, about how inconceivably small each of your lifetimes is in the history of everything?

I thought I made it clear that one of your centuries is less than a zeptosecond to God, to the universe. So when I use words like ‘soon’ and ‘imminent’ I am talking about billions of years.

Although it sure looks like you people will be gone long before then.

Anyway, please calm down. And listen to what I really came to tell you: if you’d like to learn more about GOD – the revolutionary Global One Delivery service that is
responsible for these messages – visit whatcanGODdoforyou.com

*****

P.S. Next time, I am definitely hiring a marketing agency. Right now, though, I have to hire a lot of lawyers. And, boy, am I glad this thing is untraceable.

THE END

(Author’s Note: This is the fifth installment of my serialized short story, “Delivered.” If you missed the Fourth Message, click here. To read from the beginning, click here.)

My fourth message did not sit well with the world’s organized religions. Pastors and bishops, rabbis and sayadaws, acharyas and ayatollahs, mobads and high priests were all questioned mercilessly by their followers. Age-old ceremonies and celebrations were suddenly in doubt. Traditions and rituals were abandoned.

Secular scholars attempted to separate fact from, well, whatever was in the Bible, the Qur’an, the Vedas and other sacred texts. There was documented history, they said, and there were stories that were exaggerated or metaphorical or allegorical or just entirely made up for entertainment purposes.

The business world was also in a tizzy. Would there still be a Christmas – and a Christmas shopping season? Should companies not bother making chocolate Easter bunnies, or should they declare a National Bunny Day to clear inventory? Did anything need to be kosher or halal anymore?

But then the next message arrived to imply that there were more important things to worry about.

*****

“I am GOD.

In 1929, ironically the year your stock market crashed, Edwin Hubble discovered that the universe is expanding. For his troubles, he had a telescope named after him. Posthumously.

It took almost 70 years for you humans to figure out that, not only is the universe expanding, it’s expanding faster. The galaxies are moving away from each other with increasing speed. The other galaxies are leaving your galaxy in their rearview mirrors, and soon those galaxies will see your galaxy as nothing larger than the dot at the end of this sentence. And they’ll need powerful telescopes to do even that.

Meanwhile, the stars in your galaxy are burning out, because all of them have a limited amount of fuel. Since there are no new energy sources in your galaxy, and the other galaxies are racing away from you, and you don’t have anything near the technology to catch up to them, life in your galaxy will come to an end and there will be nowhere else to go.

Earth’s sun will get larger and turn red. It will swallow Venus and Mercury. It will strip Earth of its atmosphere and boil its oceans. If anybody survives that (doubtful), things for them will get very chilly until whatever is left of your planet simply falls into whatever is left of the sun.

This will all happen soon. The end of life is imminent.

Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.

In my next message, I’ll tell you what I have come to say.

Until next time.”

*****

It was fascinating to watch how humanity dealt with the Fifth Message.

Many humans acted as if Armageddon was right around the corner, just as they thought the Mayans, or the Bible, or [choose your own prophet] predicted. Oddly, humans seemed less perturbed about this possibility than the fact that there appeared to be no one to blame for it.

For all the hand wringing throughout the second half of the 20th Century and the first fifth of the 21st, the end of the world would not be due to humanity’s dependence on fossil fuels, or its love of methane-belching beef, or a nuclear war. People lamented that all those wind turbines and solar panels, all those Priuses and double-paned windows and low-flow toilets, all that lab-synthesized meat and bottle recycling, had been for nothing.

Some people began stocking up on canned goods and powdered milk as if the end of the world was going to be like what Y2K was supposed to be. Apocalypse shelters were sold and installed as if a fortified structure would offer protection when the planet plummeted into the sun. Geese were killed into near extinction, their feathers sewn into haphazardly-manufactured coats and blankets that were snapped up by consumers who did not wish to be cold on their way to being gone. (For some reason, they ignored the “oceans boiling” part of my message.)

In the initial hours after my Fifth Message, while many were still at their jobs, there was a run on the banks, as if having cash would be helpful when the sun burned out. Then folks began to realize this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to max out their credit cards without having to worry about paying them off.

Of course, that Fifth Message arrived while half the world, more or less, was asleep. Boy, were they pissed that they missed out on all the fun. And they did, because by the time they woke up, the banks had turned off the credit and ATMs. Then they turned off their lights and locked their doors. The financial markets exploded for a few minutes, with buyers ready to exploit panicked sellers, but then they shut down when the computers couldn’t keep up with the transactions.

All commerce came to a sudden halt, as if the world had already ended.

Everybody left their jobs. What was the point of working if no purchases could be made, if the rent would never come do, if debt would be erased?

Schools were abandoned. What was the point of teaching children who would never become adults? What was the point of learning if there would be no exams?

Some very dedicated doctors and nurses stayed at it for a while, but then even they wanted to be with their loved ones.

Meanwhile, astrophysicists and other scientists hastened to point out that our sun was a mere 4.5 billion years old, which was only middle-aged as far as G-type main sequence stars go. The masses countered by pointing out that people died in middle age all the time and, anyway, who were they going to believe, some nerd in a lab coat or GOD?

Meanwhile, true believers prepared for the rapture, or prayed for forgiveness, or pleaded for a reprieve from doomsday.

But it wasn’t all doom and gloom.

There was pleasure to be had at the end of the world.

To continue on to the conclusion, click here …

(Author’s Note: This is the fourth installment of my serialized short story, “Delivered.” If you missed the Third Message, click here. To read from the beginning, click here.)

The world was getting impatient. It wanted GOD to get to the point. What was the horrible (they assumed) news that had been promised in his, or her, or their, or its first message?

Authorities wished there was some way to communicate with GOD – or whoever this joker was – so they could ask questions, or move things along, or shoot the motherfucker. Presidents and Prime Ministers promised an end to these shenanigans without specifying how such a climax might be reached.

After all, the shenanigans would end if the world did. People hoped that’s not what their leaders had in mind.

But I was enjoying this. I would not be rushed. And the longer the messages remained mysterious, the better, because it proved they could be sent without being traced.

I sent the next email and text two days later. It was a list of talking points, a list of my beliefs. It did not mention anything about the disastrous (humans assumed) revelation that was coming.

*****

“I am GOD.

I know your authorities and amateur hackers have been working overtime trying to locate the source of these messages. You will not be able to. GOD is untrackable. GOD is untraceable. GOD is unknowable. Remember that.

I also know you’re getting antsy. But God has all the time in the world. Literally. So calm down and listen, because this message is about you.

Let me tell you about all the stuff you have totally wrong.

>As I mentioned earlier, God did not create anything, although God witnessed everything being created and, let me tell you, it took a heck of a lot longer than six days.

>But even if God had created the world, what makes you people think God stuck around to fiddle with it? If God had made the world, it would have been in the same way one of your bakers makes a cream pie. God would have just placed the world on your plate to do with what you wished. You could enjoy it, or you could smush it in someone’s face.

>And why would you think that yours is the only world God would have created? Your scientists think there are at least 200 billion galaxies in the universe. (There are many more, BTW.) Wouldn’t God have created at least some of those, too? And if that were true, how much time do you think God would spend watching and listening to you? You are nowhere near the most entertaining beings in the universe.

>Another thing: you humans were not created in God’s image. God doesn’t have an image. God doesn’t look like anything, and certainly not like Morgan Freeman or George Burns. Your religions made up that “in His image” thing to help you visualize your supreme being. Maybe they thought it would make God relatable. Maybe they knew you don’t deal well with abstract concepts. But you cannot see God. You cannot know God. You look like you do for more or less the reasons your scientists say: evolution and genetics. Except for those of you who overdo it with the plastic surgery.

>What you do during your life in no way influences what happens to you when you die. God could tell you what happens to you when you die, but God is not into spoilers.

>Anybody who says they’re doing God’s work is lying. God hasn’t asked anyone to do anything. God doesn’t need any help.

>There’s no need to worship God. God is not an egomaniac. God is not one of your celebrities. God doesn’t need your love and admiration. Or any sacrifices, if you’re into that.

>Praying to God is a waste of time. God is not interested in helping you in any way.

>God did not make any rules. Your religions made all those rules. God had nothing to do with them.

>God doesn’t smile down upon anyone. Sometimes, however, God laughs at the stupid things you do.

>God has not enhanced the exploits of any athlete on your planet. There is not a single person on Earth who has a God-given talent. God very much does not care who wins the Super Bowl. Or The Voice.

>The Bible is no more an accurate reporting of human history than The Lord of the Rings.

>God has no interest in saving the king, or blessing America, or protecting Russia. No matter how often you sing those horrible songs.

>Speaking of America, it’s fine if you mention God when you pledge your undying loyalty to that piece of cloth, but it would be appreciated if you’d take God’s name off your money. It’s not as if businesses are more likely to extend credit to people who believe in God or refuse payment from people who don’t.

>Stop blaming God for stuff. Stop thanking God for stuff. Stop using God as an excuse for killing each other.

>Yes, God thinks people who give to charities are doing a good thing. It’s nice when you help each other, whether it’s with money or just lending a hand. But it’s not going to get you anything from God. Just do it because it’s right.

>God has noticed that people aren’t any more likely to tell the truth or do a good job after they say, ‘So help me God.’

>Why do you keep asking God to bless people when they sneeze? Don’t you think God has better things to do? Besides, if God was going to do that, why wouldn’t God also bless them for coughing? Or throwing up.

Until next time.”

To continue reading, click here …

(Author’s Note: This is the third installment of my serialized short story, “Delivered.” If you missed the Second Message, click here. To read from the beginning, click here.)

Conspiracy theories began heating up.

• GOD was a new religion trying to lure in acolytes.
• GOD was an old religion, trying to prevent defections.
• GOD was Russian or Chinese hackers, because who else would have the technology to pull off these stunts? They were obviously out to brainwash us, never mind that the messages were also received in Russia and China.
• GOD was CIA or NSA or some other secret government organization seeking to gain control over the population.
• GOD was nothing more than a marketing ploy, perhaps a teaser for an upcoming film. Or maybe GOD was an influencer, about to begin hyping new products.

People were also pissed off at GOD for getting all philosophical and science-y. Nobody wanted that from GOD. It required way too much thought. Well, tough. It’s about time you people started thinking.

Philosophers, physicists and mathematicians hurried to radio stations, television studios and YouTube channels to explain infinity in layman’s terms. Laymen – and women – weren’t all that interested.

Those in “less developed” areas of the world were less concerned about all the hoopla. Even the poorest, most remote villages managed to include at least a few people with cell phones, and they understood the content (it was, after all, in their language, whatever that was), and they sighed. They already knew there was stuff they didn’t know. They knew there were higher powers. They just wanted to eat and procreate and live their lives.

TikTok and YouTube were flooded with failed attempts at stacking 2,000 reams of paper, many of which resulted in serious injury. It wasn’t enough to just do the math; humans needed to see it. Organizers in cities soon found it was difficult to find 30-story buildings against which you could heap Hammermill. You had to locate one with windows that opened on the higher floors or hire a crane, and, in any case, governing bodies and police tended to frown upon such projects and refused to issue permits. That didn’t stop some volunteer fire departments from trying it and discovering that it was really difficult to stack 2,000 of anything, anywhere.

Of course, there were soon plenty of computer-generated simulations available online, one of which went to the trouble of having the million sheets of stacked paper then float up and span the equator to spell out a message welcoming GOD to Earth. (This was met by a rash of comments, many nasty, pointing out that 1,000,000 standard sheets of paper laid end to end wouldn’t even reach, for instance, from New York City to Martha’s Vineyard.)

It was truly amazing to witness how much mischief humans could get up to in the two days until I sent the next message. I LOLed at many of the antics.

*****

“I am GOD.

By now you may have noticed that my messages have been delivered to you – to all of you – anonymously. Nothing on the ‘FROM’ line. What else but GOD could do that?

Many of you believe that God is the creator. Not true, at least not in the way you think about it. Yes, God was there at the beginning. God will be there at the end, too. But, as I said earlier, God doesn’t do anything. God is just there.

Speaking about the beginning, some of you think your planet is 4.5 billion years old. Some of you think it is 6,000 years old. That is a pretty wide discrepancy. I wouldn’t want to hire any of you as an accountant.

Yes, that’s right. I do have a sense of humor.

My point is that, just as you humans have no true conception of infinity, you have no conception of time, either, at least not on that scale. God can remember the beginning of the universe like it was yesterday. You humans sometimes can’t even remember yesterday like it was yesterday. You try to mold everything that happens to fit your beliefs. You conveniently forget or revise anything that doesn’t.

And your beliefs – no matter what they are – are seriously skewed. Because you just can’t imagine what’s really going on in the universe. It is beyond your capability to know.

But know this: in the overall scheme of things, your place in the universe is beyond microscopic. Let me put it this way: you have something called a Planck Length which you think is the smallest possible measurement of size. It’s about a million trillionth the size of a proton.

I know – you can’t conceive of something that small. No matter — your place in the universe is much smaller than that.

And your place in the history of the universe is just as tiny. You have a unit of time called a zeptosecond, which is a trillionth of a billionth of a second. Since you can’t even imagine that, much less something smaller, let’s go with it.

You humans are a mere zeptosecond and sub-Planck length in the universe.

And yet you think so highly of yourselves.

Until next time.”

*****

This message was not widely thought to be a cause for optimism. Humans were infinitesimal fish in an infinite pond. Humans were less than a blink of an eye. Humans weren’t even a flash in the pan. All the cliches about time and space had been exploded.

Humans were, for all intents and purposes, nothing.

To continue reading, click here …

(Author’s Note: This is the second installment of my serialized short story, “Delivered.” Don’t read this until you’ve read the First Message, which you can do by clicking here.)

I sent the second message two days later.

That was just the right amount of time to allow the theories and rhetoric to reach a seething, frothy boil, but not long enough for people to lose interest.

Meanwhile, debates raged about the originator of such an outrageous message. Was it a person? An organization? Aliens?

Only a small minority conjectured that the writer might actually be God. After all, there had been no burning bushes, no miracles (except the delivery of the message itself), no plagues, no floods, no thunder, no whispered voice from the heavens.

And what was the purpose of this supposedly cosmic communiqué? What sort of horrible (nearly everyone assumed) news was on the horizon?

I wasn’t going to answer that. Not yet.

*****

“I am GOD.

By now you will have noticed that every human who received my first message was able to read it in their own language, impeccably adapted for local grammar, dialects and idioms.

You have to admit, that’s pretty powerful, right?

I am going to try to describe what God is (yes, a what, not a who) in a way your minds can assimilate.

God is not a ‘being,’ at least not in the way you think of physical entities. God does not act, God does not plan, God does not scheme.

God doesn’t do. God just is.

It would not be inaccurate to think of God as infinity. It might be helpful to do so if you must imagine God as anything, although most of you don’t really know what infinity is, either. Your scientists and mathematicians may claim to, but, trust me, they don’t. Not really.

Infinity is beyond the capacity of the human mind to know. It is, in fact, unknowable to you. Just as God is.

I’ll give you an example of how tenuous your grasp of this concept is. You had a very popular film called Toy Story which had what you call a catchphrase: “To infinity and beyond.” I realize it was only a children’s entertainment, but even a child should know what nonsense that is. You can’t go beyond infinity. You can’t even reach infinity in the first place, much less go beyond it.

Humans can’t conceive of infinity. What’s the highest number you can think of? Now add one. Now do it again. Now keep going until you die.

And even that’s not infinity.

Let me demonstrate how limited your brains are. You can picture ten things, right? Maybe a hundred things, because you can count them. But can you picture -– actually see — a thousand things? Coins? Marbles? People? How about a million? Pencils? Miles? Grains of sand?

Here’s a little experiment. How tall do you think a pile of a thousand sheets of ordinary paper would be? I’ll tell you: about 4.5 inches. That’s right – about up to your ankle. Don’t believe me? Go ahead and stack a couple of reams.

Now … how tall do you think a million sheets of that paper would be? Well, intellectually, you can do the math (the more intelligent of you, anyway): a million is a thousand times a thousand, so you can just add two zeros to the height of a thousand sheets (and lose the decimal point). But can you picture it?

What if I told you it would be higher than a 30 story building?

You see? Humans are really bad at conceiving of large numbers. You can think them up, you can manipulate them abstractly, you can even write them down. But you can’t picture them.

So what chance do you have with infinity?

What chance do you have with God?

You know what else you don’t know? How big the universe is. Your geniuses and your computers and your telescopes can see and calculate that the universe is many billion light years big. But how many billion? A hundred billion? A million? A trillion?

Is it infinite?

The answer is unknowable to you. 

My point is this: Humans don’t even know everything you don’t know. Put another way, the number of things that are unknowable is unknowable.

God is one of them.

But by the time I’m done sending these messages, you will know what GOD is.

Until next time.”

To continue reading, click here …