Comes and/or Goes and/or Neither

 

Nothing comes. It is here, a fullness unthinkable, commutative, here it is, and is it here? Are you sure it is? Here it is or it could be. It could be here, or it is there. Transitive? It could be there, but not if it is here, unless it has changed, or unless it covers both places, the more so a fullness unthinkable and large alright, as we might suspect for something that goes by so grand a name, such an awesome impossibility. If it could be there, and it is not here, we may have to go and check. We may have to, or we may want to, curious creatures that we are, both bizarre and inquisitive. But then, when we get there, and we find it is not there either, how do we know it was not there while we were here, or during the time we took to get there? And how do we know, for that matter, that it is not here while we are over there. For that matter or that mind? What is here when we are over there? Does it go from here to there? Or is it nothing wherever we are? Wherever we go, it goes? Nothing goes.

Are you Henri Bergson?

Are you absurd?

Or a famous (and of course dead) Danish philosopher?

Go ahead, calculate the odds.

We are waiting.