(Howell Creek Radio address for June 9, 2012 -- ) # Deities in Exile A few weeks ago, as you were probably able to tell, I knew it was time to get up north. Trixie and I were doing breakfast dishes when we saw the west wind walking in the backyard. Now if it had been the north-west wind we'd have invited him in for a smoke, but the west wind does not smoke. In fact, if you see the west wind you do not invite him in -- it is your part to go out to meet _him_. And you'd do well to bring a sweet drink with you, preferably wine, or juice, or cold tea. So we filled three tumblers with white grape juice and met him in the backyard, where the rain was now falling lightly through the new maple leaves. He was in a headstrong, impatient mood, like that one friend in every group who always gets these odd impulses to go places at the weirdest times, and gets very pushy about having everyone come with him. Trixie gave him her last drop of juice just before he took off. "We have to go up north," I said. "We'll use some of our tax refund," she said. "We'll have dinner on the hill in the evening, and then go up to the High Places the next day," I said. "I'll pack a lunch," she said. A couple of weeks later, we were off in the red car to catch up with the west wind. * * * Mark James Adams, psychozooanalyst and sometime listener to this podcast, [once said][1] that "Summer is the season for data, winter is for theory." It's just as true for the scientist as it is for a bear or a painted turtle: in summer we collect experiences, in winter we dream about them. Last weekend, with Pepper and Jacques in town from Vancouver, Trixie and I and my brothers and sisters drove up north to the cabin on Lake Inguadona for the weekend. We didn't leave until eight-thirty on Friday evening. Trixie and I were in the front two seats, and my sisters Gwen and Pepper were in the back. We were all a good deal tired and the conversation soon tapered off into an eloquent silence. How long had it been since Pepper had made this trip through the woods to our childhood vacation place? She's been married and living on the west coast for almost two years now. What thoughts must she be having as we drive through a tunnel of twilight and trees that seems unchanged since we were children. And at the same time, there is Trixie sitting next to me, as far from _her_ childhood home in Niagara Falls as Paige is from her new home in Vancouver. This is only her second trip to the cabin. I sometimes wonder what fresh, barely-formed impressions the words "the cabin" have for her, what it really looks like inside the head of someone who is coming here for only the first or second time. Do you know what the real tragedy of Babel was? I'm inclined to think it was not the barrier of separate languages. The tragedy of Babel is like the tragedy of brain damage, like a stroke or Alzheimer's disease -- the tragedy of being unable to convey our true experience of the world to each other. Riding north in this car are four people, two of whom are married and three of whom grew up together, yet we have vastly different memories and imaginative landscapes. The same roads, houses and trees on this route to the cabin are filled with different ghosts for each of us that no one else can see. I've been reading through the past few years about the _multiverse_, and about scientists who suppose in all earnestness that the universe we observe and inhabit is just one of many. [One recent article][2] described a theory that each black hole contains a universe and that our universe is itself contained in a black hole. But the multiverse lies much nearer than this: every human has experienced it. We are each of us like deities in exile from those we are surrounded by. How can we ever invite someone to experience the same universe that we experience? Words are shabby capsules for such a purpose. But perhaps someday we will be able to do it again. * * * By the time you hear this, Trixie and I will be in Niagara Falls, visiting family. This time I'll be the relative newcomer and it will be her haunts and homes we fly to. Although I only released one podcast in May, I've been busy thinking about, and writing for, this podcast. I'd like to be able to release each radio address under a Creative Commons-style license, and to that end we're considering recording our own music for backgrounds and interludes. I've also invested in a new microphone, which hopefully results in happier ears all over the world. I very rarely get feedback on this podcast except when I stop doing it for awhile. If you enjoy it, you can make it even more enjoyable for me (and thus ensure future episodes) by following @HowellCreek on Twitter and letting me know what you think after each episode. Since I host all my mp3 files on my own server and since everyone seems to find the podcast through a different method, it can be surprisingly hard to tell how many people actually hear what I'm saying every week; but depending on which stats package I read, I have between 30 and 100 listeners. It would be nice to flick the lights on and see who else is in the room, and Twitter is great for that. * * * Synopsis ---------- Radio address for June 9, 2012, where Trixie and I long to go on pilgrimages, and in fact do so. Mention is made of [a new theory about our universe being inside a black hole][2] -- you should read the article, it's very interesting. Music cue is [Part 2/ IBM 1403 Printer][3] from _IBM 1401 A User's Manual_ by Johann Johannsson. [1]: https://twitter.com/mja/status/8433232936697856 "@mja tweet on Nov 27, 2010" [2]: http://www.insidescience.org/?q=content/every-black-hole-contains-new-universe/566 "Every Black Hole Contains a New Universe - Inside Science, May 17, 2012." [3]: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B004QDS9CI/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=joelsimprpers-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B004QDS9CI "(aff. link)"