Adam Blatner

Recently I’ve been contemplating the internally-reinforcing logic of a strict materialist, a modern thinker, and how, from another perspective, how shallow it is. The Aristotelian may note in full the details that lead to details, how seemingly un-ending is the extrapolation of the sources of bacon, toast, or coffee, of its own birth in butter or a little oil, heat—the many dimensions of breakfast. Yet the eggs will hardly think about their own origin in the abstract idea of “Chicken” (much less the whole cosmic dimension that holds chickens). The Platonist of course thinks about this “vertical” dimension, but is hampered by it being so unreachable by ordinary consciousness.

I know both are true: It’s not either-or, but both-and. The Glory of the Everything Becoming is only hinted at by most human conceptions of God—indeed, a highly anthropomorphized fantasy that gives less than a millionth of the Glory of the Everything Becoming. It’s the Chicken, and the world that gives forth chickens, and the world that gives forth worlds that give forth chickens. It’s horizontal and vertical infinitude, and dimensional, too.