We are in a dance. A cosmic dance of monumental proportions and majesty. But we are not alone. Once a month the full beauty our dance partner is revealed and the Moon basks in all her glory, calmly accepting the Sun’s spotlight. Even though we often take her name in vain, she is still prepared to take a hit for us, as she follows our celestial rhythm. 

The music that weaves through our universe is conducted by four virtuosos, according to our current scientific understanding. We call them “Forces”: Nuclear Fusion, Nuclear Fission, Electromagnetism and Gravity. It is those forces that carve the shape of our reality. 

Physicists can show you how the first three work. They know how they communicate their message. They can measure them, photograph and record their stories with minute sensors. We’ve all sprinkled iron filings on a blank page to see how a magnet writes its script. But no physicist can actually tell you how the Moon says to the oceans “Come to me”. We can see the effect of that message, sure. But in reality we’re as close to understanding gravity as a mechanic gauging the torque of an engine by sniffing the burnt rubber left behind by a wheel spin. As it stands, nobody can actually tell you how the Moon speaks to our seas, nor how our oceans obey its command. We can see and hear the opera, we just can’t tell you how it is played. 

We are all told that the chances of us existing on this perfectly positioned planet are a billion trillion to one, but the moon is an enigma. It is apparently travelling away from the Earth by two inches every year. What we are not told is that, just at the point when we achieve consciousness as a species, the moon is the perfect size and at the exact distance between us and our nearest star to occasionally create a total solar eclipse, producing a perfect corona. Another billion to one chance? Pure coincidence? It has nothing to do with anything, right? Unless, of course, it is Everything. Unless it is absolutely pivotal to our existence and our development as a species. Unless we wouldn’t have achieved our current level of sentience without it. We just haven’t fully understood its importance because that can only be attained once we have reached the end of that particular journey, and we’ve still got some way to go. 

Some journeys are waiting for us to determine their outcome. Others are a race. The one in which we have found ourselves is a race between natural resources on one axis, population growth and technology on the others. It’s a race we have to win if we are to survive as a species. 

The apple is falling from the tree. It needs to be caught before it hits the ground. 

Predicting a solar eclipse was the ultimate statement of power in ancient times. Greek sponge divers made a stunning discovery in the Mediterranean in 1900. Named after a nearby island, the Antkithera Mechanism, most likely created by Archimedes, was the technology which could deliver that prediction. Much as Alan Turing is credited for creating the first computer, it actually started two thousand years beforehand. It is around that time that the race began. The time when we became a super-predator. But we have reached the point where we need a new Archimedes. 

Is he Elon Musk? There could be a lot worse candidates for the position. A self-confessed high-functioning autist. I approve. I understand his fixation with rockets, but unfortunately his obsession is misplaced and badly timed. Aiming for Mars is fine, just fix the Earth first. Maybe I should post him some mushrooms. Retune his Hyperfocus. He’s already got a Duncan Fearnley. He just needs to be pushed out on to the right wicket. 

Recent revelations have brought the holy grail of Cold Fusion much closer as a promising ingredient, Deuterium Hydrogen (which critically contains an extra neutron), has been found in a stunningly abundant source: seawater… In theory, a gallon of seawater could produce the same amount of energy as 300 gallons of petrol. If only we could artificially create anywhere near the gravitational force of the sun, or harness the Earth’s magnetism… 

Like Newton, Einstein, Darwin, and many others, the new Archimedes will very likely be an autist, this is not an arena where a neurotypical will excel. However, Alan Turing’s reward for his brilliance was chemical castration. Archimedes’ ultimate conclusion was a thrust of a Roman sword delivered by a soldier who didn’t give a shit about “disturbing his circles”. Discrimination and ignorance persist. The current stance of the Australian government is not to issue a foreigner with a working visa if they are diagnosed with autism or ADHD, much to their loss. 

In order to win this race, it is essential to house the new Archimedes in a Bletchley Park appropriate for our age. Because the code of this enigma is far harder to crack and way more important. They will need the support of a nation who realises that we are the Steward, not the Owner, and that it is our duty to stand on the shoulders of our forefathers, save us from this lunacy, and reach for the sun.  

With love, Ray, Brighton, 2024

For back issues: https://www.instagram.com/sdoam.therayman/

Editor’s note: The Whistler does not condone Ray’s opinions. We chose to publish this as we know there are many microdosers in the city. But remember, what works for Ray may not work for anyone else.