Cosmic serendipity! it be everywhere. Like.. the total lunar eclipse last night..
Like.. in this morning's SF Chronicle, describing the cleaning of a local Library's front doors after eons of crusted munge, introduced in item thus:

First William Blake, then Aldous Huxley wrote that people must open and cleanse "the doors of perception" to their minds in order to be free.

Cannot imagine paraphrasing either of these two - and the metaphor passes the test of both time and umm 'String' /pasta? theory and (whatever next oleomargarine ersatz-replacement -??- for profound, quiet thought over a few decades.) "Tiger, tiger burning bright.."

Oh and -
'Course! I/we missed your fractally-disarranged array, during the periodic local cud-chewings. :-)
(Besides.. if you think that any question worth answering is simple in the sorta-'answering', well then: Hah! to you too.)

One creeping near-certainty appears to be: Boolean 'answers' to any Real questions are as laughable as "when did you cease beating your wife?". We're really screwed by the 'non-universality' of personal Referents to all the Good words.. like, say ... Being? Consciousness? Eternity-as-timelessness (not a looong time.) And the rest. The 'world' is analogue. Which is, pretty much why -- all these threads soon deteriorate into puns, quips or serial-Playlists.


But since you asked, one pantomime might go this way:

The thing about meta is -- see, the species has been slithering around in infraphysics so long (and just plain old physics goes ^Zooom^ for 66.6%, if the thought even comes up - and fergeddabout 'math') -- and well, it's looking like umm, zinuzoidal depleneration / a damped sine-wave right on back to the drowning of witches (if your stock doesn't go up, say.)

As follows clearly: meta.. gives the adventurous ones a neat puzzle -
as with electron tunneling (handily cheating Probability! in a bit of doped silicon) there emerges the thought that, just maybe,

_{"the lower"} Can occasionally glimpse! ^{"the higher"}... without all the superstitious wistfulness / the battle for Certainty and the other tawdry illusions.. It's a thought.

Virii? my biology is too weak to play in that particular Field of the Lured. (Lurid) I tend towards a different tack, when imagineering the next onion layer:

We've pretty well demonstrated that there isn't *really* any 'Matter' around, at all! - in this illusionary "materialist-dwelling" world. Even the proton decays: it's ephemeral, is what it IS. Nothing Lasts. 'Atoms' are a probability soup of teensy energy vortices: Bosons run mad.

And THAT ... IS the vaunted so-called Material World\ufffd !! Only it Ain't. ("Material" at all.) Mindset-shattering, that -- no? What we took to be so so.. 'SOLID': ain't. Energy.. not space/time.

So then:
there's nothing intellectually flaky in simply checking out the Bardos, running through that most Useful taxonomy: which is the very purpose of there having been created - - Sanskrit! (If'n it was good enough for Oppie, I shall not sneer at it, nor at the Gitas - and especially the bitchin Sufi stories - which tie-in seamlessly.)

The only reason to play with viral-type analogies, is to maintain the 'material' illusion; an effort to make things simplistic; not: [AE] "as simple as possible. but-Not-simpler." Y'know?

Corollary:
if the matter idea is seen to have run its course, perhaps spatial preoccupations (Riemann to Rhesus geometry?) are equally a Reddish Herring. Not at all sure how much of both (matter/space) is not just a contrivance to suit our peculiar jelloware: but like the fish noticing its bowl - suspecting that better jelloware would make Everything seem more sensible: apparently this is not a transform which compiles in the mentioned typ. Observer's jelloware.

(Maybe Leibnitz Was the simplest-'Right' one ??)
Certainly all the bloody TV screens scattered everywhere are Leibnitzian! - like the One True Couch Potato's 'reality' being played out in that dark room -?- maybe exactly why the hucksters have successfully sold all those toys to the whole species:

because 9 Billion solipsists can't be Wrong/right/indeterminate?


Carrion,

Ashton