I had planned to return to metaphysics for a while, but this post was virtually dictated to me in the middle of the night. In high school, the French Club performed various skits for parents’ night I doubt many parents could understand, and, given our lousy accents, probably no Frenchman could either. Maybe a Quebecois could. That is how I became a French standup comedian. Before I reveal the joke about the French bakery, some context is necessary.

Bird song

Every morning, except during hurricanes, I sit out on the patio for breakfast. And every such morning, a bird alights on a tree, singing her song. Perhaps she is communicating something, or even singing for pure delight. But she is not singing for me, although I, too, take delight in listening.

Do I therefore owe her some morsels of my pastry for providing me with that pleasure?

Gravitational Waves

When bodies accelerate, they distort the space time continuum. Imagine standing on a trampoline, and you will see that you create a distortion of the surface. If you roll a ball across the trampoline, its path will be affected by that indentation, so that it may roll to your feet rather the intended destination. The ball believes there is a force attracting you to it and the ball calls the experience “falling”.

Instead, the mass creates a gravitational wave, moving at the speed of light. Since everything is vibration, everything in its path will be affected to the degree of its proximity.

Psychical Waves

The subtle body of the earth is called the noosphere. Thoughts and emotions circulate throughout the noosphere, forming diverse knots something like Sheldrake’s morphic fields. But like gravitational waves, they feel like an attractive force, and are also experienced as “falling”.

When the Girl from Ipanema walks by, all the beach boys sigh. Just like the gravitational fields, she creates a distortion in the noosphere. As the psychic waves emanate, they affect the voyeurs in various ways. Some daydream of a day with her, some of a night, a few dream of a lifetime.

Do they owe her a Brazilian Real for the sweet 15 minute daydream she gives them?

The Boulangerie

Every morning the baker was up early to prepare the loaves for the day. And every morning the pauper, who could not afford fresh bread, stood outside the doorway, just to experience the scent of freshly baked bread. This annoyed the baker, who thought he should get paid for the smell of the bread. So he took the pauper to court.

The judge, having heard the baker make his case, asked him to come up to his bench. There the judge asked the baker to give him a few coins. The judge dropped the coins on the bench and rendered his verdict.

“Just as the pauper enjoys the smell of your bread, you can enjoy the sound of the money.”