Sorry, this is really fun for me

A couple of weekends ago we went down to Tucson and spent a surprisingly long time discussing (with Ryan & Kim, whose Tucson abode is so lovingly shared with us on the occasion that we make the drive) paradox and probability. The occasion for this was my invention of the probability magnet: a person or creature (or, inevitably, neither and both of those things) on whom all possible realities converge.

Imagine a giant Venn diagram of all parallel universes intersecting on a single point.

The trick is, of course, that if all possible realities converge on that point, no possible realities also converge on that point. If everything has 100% probability for you, then nothing has 100% probability for you as well. This makes for better dinner conversation than you would think.

Existence as the probability magnet would be infinitely interesting and sad – I could put that in a more appropriate binary, say, ecstatic and sad, but of course the probability magnet is not actually a creature of binaries but instead of manifold shades. (It’s just easier to illustrate her/him/it with always/never statements.) The probability magnet is both god and nothing, worthless and vital.

Sorry, probability magnet. You didn’t exist in this torturous state before I dreamed you up. But of course, you also did. I am and am not culpable for your suffering/bliss/boredom/heroics/rage.