Null and Void

“What matters ain't the notes, but the silence between them.” Theoretically attributable to Miles Davis.

      We could have started this story with Miles Davis, but we won't. We'll rather travel through space and time, and then travel again through more space and more time and land in the densely uninhabited village of Worden, Wisconsin, USA, 657 souls at the last count. There is the home of John Michael Collins III, 14, who is on his way to “vomit” in the dictionary (he is bored since 10 o'clock (when he woke up)) and stumbles on the word “void”. His eye was caught more like. There he sees: “'void /vɔɪd/ adj., n., & v. *adj. 1a empty, vacant” Just like this afternoon. Empty, vacant, 3 useless and void of interest afternoon. * n. 1 an empty space, a vacuum (vanished into the void; cannot –”  Why the heck are there two u's at the same time in the same word? Looks like one of 'em darn Latin words Miss Putman uses. Yuck. Let's go to vacuuuumunum. It's just a few pages away anyway. So, “vacuum /'vakjʊəm/ n. & v. * n. (pl. vacuums or vacua /jʊə/) 1 a space entirely devoid of matter”. Wow. If he got it right there was things that had nothing at all in 'em.

      Funny thing, a dictionary. He didn't know he had one until he found it under the bed which his father kept in the attic. Not precisely under the bed, but under one of the legs of the bed. Anyway. That was the closest thing to something remotely interesting he could lay his hands on. The attic was devoid of interest since he had perused every and any odd items up there. Boring area now.

      Anyhow he was intrigued, but he couldn't check anything now. He could still have a go at the crack but he just wasn't sure. His dad had changed the code yesterday evening. Without it he couldn't surf on the Net. All this parental control thing was just too much for him. The post-it read: “Daily allowance: 1 hr”. ONE hour. He should report his parents. And when he actually was surfing he couldn't even google such things as “sex”. The keyboard didn't allow him to type the letters in a row. He cheated of course and put spaces between the letters which he deleted afterward. But then the search was blocked. He had another hour to wait. He decided to go for it.

      Keyboard in hand. He had three tries before blocking everything, after that he would have to wait for his father to go back home and unlock the damn thing. Yelling would be involved. Cursing too. OK. First try: “Rebecca.” No. He had already tried that about a month ago. He actually thought his dad was stupid enough to put the same password twice, but that didn't work. “Johnstopitnow” didn't work either, even though his dad seemed to repeat this same sentence again and again. Last chance: win or wait. He pressed the Enter key. Hourglass. Hourglass. More hourglass. Black screen. White screen. Desktop. “Ohmygoditworks!” he yelled. His dad hadn't put any password, or rather the password was...yeah...void. Vacant, empty. Another reason to google it. He was smirking, he saw it in the reflection of the screen as the page went dark. V-o-i-d, Enter.

      Images flickered on and off; concepts floated by; he was in a stream of information and before he realised it he was swept away. Some of the things in there he didn't understand a word of. But he did get one thing: void was everywhere. It was what defined words: signs put together separated by spaces on each side. Even the letters were composed of a skilful arrangement of lines and voids, best example being the “O”, which was nothing but void circled by the thinnest black line and then more void. Notes were defined by the silences on either side of noise. The vastest areas of void were to be found in the universe, which defined the filaments, which were masses of galaxies huddled together. Together wasn't even the term because void was to be found between each and every star, planet, exoplanet, shooting star, black holes. A planet was bordered on all sides by void. Every human was some mass with a limitation. However huge could a man become, he was still formed from matter and surrounded by void. Each and every one of our cells – or for that matter any molecule of any object, living thing or solids – was an intricate structure of molecules surrounded by void. Matter and void. Molecules formed from smaller particles themselves circled on all sides by void, however infinitesimal. Those...quarks were supposed to be the smallest things on earth. He knew there ought to be smaller things. He would find out, even if it would take his entire life. He wanted to find out why there was so much void around us, why it was so important it defined every thing, from the biggest to the smallest. At least it would fill his day, and he wouldn't be bored anymore. John Michael Collins III would agree ending this story with the Tao-Tö King, whom he doesn't know, yet: “We shape clay into a pot, but it is the emptiness inside that holds whatever we want.”