Prelude

The culmination of the European Enlightenment was the guillotine. Not the one that severed France from its King and Queen, but rather the one that separated ought from is. Presented with David Hume’s weapon of execution and confronted by his trusty fork, one could no longer prove any sort of meaning in existence. Not from facts or theory alone, anyway.

Yet, what is it about natural laws that shake our very core? Why is it that, in the arcs and spins of planets and stars, we find the answers to the biggest questions of life?

I say this not to reprimand, nor to condescend. I too am guilty of this. Even now, I still have not stopped using science as a guiding light — even though it only points to where I want to go.

In a world that lost the delightful fallacies of ages past, everyone needs to cling onto something. For me, it is the equations that govern the motions of the universe — of quarks and galaxies alike. This is a story about motion. And in celebration of motion, I present to you three laws to hold near and dear. 

The first: inertia is a property of matter. That is to say, velocity stays constant in the absence of force. Whether stuck in one place or hurdling toward a wall, only by acting can we change our trajectory and shape our destiny.

The second: matter accelerates in the direction of the applied force. Push to, pull fro. Actions do what actions do. No more, no less. Whether to hell or heaven, to riches or ruin, we go the way we are forced to go. By others’ hands, or by our own.

The third, last, and greatest one of all: every action has an equal and opposite reaction. By corollary, the net force of a system is zero. Push comes to shove. There are no free lunches. You get what comes to you. Cosmic karma exists — I am sure of it.

Even without any possible proof, I cannot believe any other way. And that, in the end, is the beauty of Hume’s guillotine. If no proofs exist, no proofs need be tendered. Modern problems require modern solutions. Off with the heads of those who dare tell me otherwise.

We have no need for heads here, anyway. A story, in the end, is a matter of the heart. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. And in my old age, I at last have the heart to laugh.