Truth springs from argument amongst friends.
All you are is a bag of particles acting out the laws of physics. That to me is pretty clear.
Physicists are more like avant-garde composers, willing to bend traditional rules. . . Mathematicians are more like classical composers.
The melded nature of space and time is intimately woven with properties of light speed. The inviolable nature of the speed of light is actually, in Einstein's hands, talking about the inviolable nature of cause and effect.
Physicists have come to realize that mathematics, when used with sufficient care, is a proven pathway to truth.
The tantalizing discomfort of perplexity is what inspires otherwise ordinary men and women to extraordinary feats of ingenuity and creativity; nothing quite focuses the mind like dissonant details awaiting harmonious resolution.
Science is very good at answering the 'how' questions. 'How did the universe evolve to the form that we see?' But it is woefully inadequate in addressing the 'why' questions. 'Why is there a universe at all?' These are the meaning questions, which many people think religion is particularly good at dealing with.
Nowhere in my collection do I, say, have a Auguste Renoir painting. Because everybody knows that this is a good painter without me having to demonstrate it.
I have enough rhythm to blend at this point. I have enough rhythm to blend one song into another. But man, I have such respect for the art of deejaying. I hesitate to even call myself a deejay.
It takes courage and skill to be unambiguous and clear.
I'm all in favor of poets telling about the process as much as they can. And many do.