Infantile, Innit

Infantile, Innit

Oh, you’re so clever
With all your semantics,
And sleight-of-hand antics
About the forever.

But infinite‘s nothing
Except very big
And the laymen soon twig
That you’re really just bluffing.

The same goes for ‘perfect’,
So dull and platonic
And paradox-chronic –
Your gotcha ain’t worth it !

So shove your hotels
And your arrows and monkeys –
We’re no theory’s flunkies
In updated Hells.

This whole universe
Is a finite amount
So however you count
Then the shortfall gets worse –

With numbers, it’s true
That whatever the score,
We can always add more
And still never be through

But you know what ?  So what !
So the numbers end never…
In all of forever,
Is that you’re best shot ?

So cut the pretence,
Cos when I hear of infinite,
I think of bullshit –
And then it makes sense.

There is actually a branch of maths called Finitism which, while it does not deny that the concept of infinity exists, shrugs its shoulders and ignores it.