How can anything so complicated and so mathematical be so beautiful?
Imagine a priest who hears one of the great settings of the Mass (or a tour of a Gothic cathedral) followed by
How can anything so complicated and so religious be so beautiful?
That is essentially how I felt. With considerable effort, one could make enough dissonant noise to be as grating as the remark. Scratch a chalkboard with the fingernails of one hand. Bang on the cracks between a few piano keys with the fingers of the other. Step on a cat’s tail and fart loudly. Doing all that would suffice.
A good priest would redirect any shock or anger at the remark into sorrow and pity for the wayward soul of a heathen who meant no harm. In this one respect anyway, I try to be like a good priest (or a good imam).
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