Does It Matter?

A friend sent me this article today: Apparently information has mass. And I’m in a weird mood, so does that have mass? By crikey, I’ll give it mass.

Ha, cool!

So what information is expressed here and is the Sun trying to tell us something??

Hmm, maybe it’s time to read a lot more of this book? Grammatical Man: Information, Entropy, Language, and Life 

I’ll probably gain a lot of weight if I do, since I’m living in this earthly body. The book was always a must-read, but conveniently disappeared . . . out of sight, out of mind. Its mass must have diminished–or at least it’s certainly diminished in my brain: entropy ate it . . .

It must be around here somewhere in the books piling up, I haven’t seen it in the last few years, oops, so guess it must be at the bottom of a pile decaying, if not altogether gone, gone, gone far beyond–

But does my brain weigh more now that I’ve remembered the book . . . so will gravity bring us back together? Is there a lodestone to navigate my house I can use? Will that help detect the black holes where these things have gone–? The magnetite in my brain is losing its grip and exists partially in some other dimension. I think it’s magnetized only to my computer now. 

I don’t know enough to say what gravitational influences all these articulated particles of information have on each other, but somehow it reminds me of the stories about early scientists who used to go around and weigh the dying before and after death in an effort to determine if their souls had mass.

Or maybe the shock disorganized/erased each soul’s info and it’s weightless. It’s a hard problem.

Another story: in Jasper Fforde’s books there is an entropy detector; when entropy grows thin (and I presume, more weightless, or is that massless, or does it matter?) you can tell, because randomness diminishes. The entropy detector is a jar of rice and beans. When and where entropy is thin, the random rice and beans line up making neat layers of orderly rows, and then you can plan on accomplishing the improbable, if you need to. There’s a similar device in Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy, I forget exactly what it’s like, but rest assured that bit of matter does exist somewhere.

And does Schrodinger’s cat leave a massive probability hole where catness was/is not or not? Perhaps only cat P really exists? And was the Cheshire Cat his ancestor?
So P or Not P, that is the question. Or P & (Not(Not P)? And do these informational masses sometimes hit things, falling from space, leaving a photonic or olfactory dent in reality or mentality?

What happens while waiting weightlessly in the bardo? Do we forget we have thumbs to twiddle? Is eternity really weightless or massless? No wonder we never remember.

These thoughts might weight me down for some while . . . or wait, am I confused?

Cheerful and massive cheers to all,
Melody=she’s harmonically heavy by nomenclature (when not illegible).

P.S. And another friend reminds me:
“And your gravity fails
And negativity don’t pull you through
Don’t put on any airs . . .”

So I’m ending on a song after all: though that’s not quite the same weird mood I’m in, maybe this is a better choice–
“When logic and proportion have fallen softly dead,” or whatever those lyrics are–

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