by Chris Bodenner
A reader keeps the discussion going strong:
I have been following this thread with interest and have noticed the subject has evoked a general sense of terror in many of the readers who have commented. I should point out that one of the classic hallmarks of intelligence is existential depression of the kind provoked by "infinity." In fact, in young, gifted, children (and children with OCD or Tourette's syndrome, who are often highly intelligent) existential depression is often triggered by their first encounter with the concept of infinity. As a child of six or seven, my introduction to infinity led to years of sleepless nights, and often nightmares. To this day, I can find myself disturbed for days if I begin to dwell on the subject.
My intellectually gifted, six-year-old son, who is currently being treated for OCD, is a fine example of this as well. Earlier this summer, after he had brought up the idea to me (regarding the stars and the size of the universe) and we discussed it as far as he might be able to understand, he became, over the following weeks increasingly withdrawn. Finally, one evening, out of the blue he told me that sometimes he "just wanted to die."
I, of course, stopped what I was doing and asked him why. He said, "It's always the same. Nothing changes and there are never any answers – never an end to anything. It just goes on and on." It was a long night, and although we aren't fearful that he is genuinely suicidal, my wife and I are much more aware of the effects "infinity" can have on the psyche. The concept of infinity is difficult enough for educated adults to grasp and comfortably accept. Imagine being only six years old: you are bright enough to hold the idea in front of you, but lack the emotional foundation to hold back its inherent terror. Sometimes infinity really hurts the brain.
Another writes:
I'm surprised to learn that so many people had difficulties with the concept of infinity. For me the awesomeness and beauty of infinity came to me as I fell into a mirror-upon-mirror reflection in an ornate gilded palace I visited in my youth. With a display such as this, one can never be firmly in the center, but always ever so slightly to the side so that the path of infinity slightly curves, blocking out a full view into infinity. Even this does not bother me, now or then, as I just figured that I will never fully see into the eyes of God, if you will, if not for only on this plane of existence.
Another:
My first encounter with infinity: the Land O Lakes butter box.
Another:
I'm enjoying the infinity thread – a great late-summer diversion. I'd like to point out that your illustrations of the Mad magazine cover and the like are technically not examples of infinity but of recursion, which is a process of repeating objects in a self similar way. Fun as the images are, there is no "infinity" in a universe where the same objects continuously repeat themselves; there is just endlessness. (Maybe Bill Murray in Groundhog Day has an insight or two to offer.)
Here's a challenge. Try thinking of infinity going backwards. Growing up in a Catholic grade school I was taught that God is eternal – always was, always will be. I imagined God hanging around in the Dark Ages, witnessing Jesus' birth, digging the age of the dinosaurs, chillin' in the Ice Age (sorry), hitting a creative peak just about the time of the creation of the Universe … and then POW – I hit a wall. Can an infinite God be "always was" even before anything else "was"? Or to be less grammatically tortured, is there a beginning to infinity?
My brain hurts.
The Dish 