I thought of this passage from The Phantom Tollbooth while we were
talking about Mindwalk and the idea that the system is always more than
what we know, no matter how much we learn about it. Enjoy!
—
[The Mathemagician says,] “What’s the greatest number you can think of?”
“Nine trillion, nine hundred ninety-nine billion, nine hundred
ninety-nine million, nine hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred
ninety-nine,” replied Milo breathlessly.
“Very good,” said the Mathemagician. “Now add one to it. Now add one
again,” he repeated when Milo had added the previous one. “Now add one
again. Now add one again. Now add one again. Now add one again. Now add
one again. Now add one again. Now add —”
“But when can I stop?” pleaded Milo.
“Never,” said the Mathemagician with a little smile, “for the number
you want is always at least one more than the number you’ve got, and
it’s so large that if you started saying it yesterday you wouldn’t
finish tomorrow.”
“Where could you ever find a number so big?” scoffed the Humbug.
“In the same place they have the smallest number there is,” he answered
helpfully; “and you know what that is.”
“Certainly,” said the bug, suddenly remembering something to do at the
other end of the room.
“One one-millionth?” asked Milo, trying to think of the smallest
fraction possible.
“Almost,” said the Mathemagician. “Now divide it in half. Now divide it
in half again. Now divide it in half again. Now divide it in half again.
Now divide it in half again. Now divide it in half again. Now divide it
in half again. Now divide —”
“Oh dear,” shouted Milo, holding his hands to his ears, “doesn’t that
ever stop either?”
“How can it,” said the Mathemagician, “when you can always take half of
whatever you have left until it’s so small that if you started to say it
right now you’d finish even before you began?”
“Where could you keep anything so tiny?” Milo asked, trying very hard
to imagine such a thing.
The Mathemagician stopped what he was doing and explained simply, “Why,
it’s in a box that’s so small you can’t see it — and that’s kept in a
drawer that’s so small you can’t see it, in a dresser that’s so small
you can’t see it, in a house that’s so small you can’t see it, on a
street that’s so small you can’t see it, in a city that’s so small you
can’t see it, which is part of a country that’s so small you can’t see
it, in a world that’s so small you can’t see it.”
Then he sat down, fanned himself with a handkerchief, and continued.
“Then, of course, we keep the whole thing in another box that’s so small
you can’t see it — and, if you follow me, I’ll show you where you can
find it.”
—
;)