October 4th 2010 Tim Candler
There is agreement from me that an
infinity of circles, each one touching at points, would produce lines as
straight as ever they might need to be. I would determine my
territory in terms of one large circle, and an infinite number of
increasingly smaller circles.
In dispute we would get out the
electronic microscope and with minute pointers gesture roughly in the
direction of the smallest circles, arguing second by second, never even
noticing that as we debated each tiny circle was indeed becoming larger.

But never so large as to permit either
one of us to fit one more circle into the multitude of circles.
Instead we could enter the space between the circles, and there we would get
lost in an understanding of being that can only be endured through the
rudders of mathematics.
This could be a pure place in which
to sail. And I bet you it is a random place, because it is the
place where you and I actually touch each other.
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