I find it amusing that more than a hundred years have passed since Einstein published his theory - and yet we still believe in the static solidity of this world. After publishing, there was some bewilderment in the daily news business about just what to write about it and what it meant. One newspaper sent a journalist to interview a scientific authority, Arthur Eddington, and it was he who named it "A Theory Of Relativity". Einstein himself named it Invariant Postulates On The Electrodynamics Between Objects In Motion. One example of such electrodynamics is of course that narrow band of the entire spectrum that we call visible light. What we can see with our own eyes. To a great extent, this narrow band is determining our sense of reality: What we can see is real. What we can't see isn't. And if anybody can see anything that isn't there (as in reflecting electrodynamic rays within this narrow band), he or she is dreaming, hallucinating, fantasising, or witnessing a miracle of the Gods. 

If I hold an object in my hand, say for instance a crystal ball, what is it you are observing? A man holding a crystal ball in his hand is the naive realist's explanation. Myself, I call it an event. I even call the crystal ball an event, rather than an object. It seems very primitive to me to think in terms of objects. In spacetime, this "object" is a cluster of energetic configurations which is moving through space at a ferocious velocity. Never is it, and never will it ever be, located in the same place in space and time as it is "now". We live in a universe of flux, of constant creation, which implies constant destruction, or simply rearrangements, of energy. Solidity is an illusion. Duration is an illusion. What specific illusion we perceive is determined by our genetic configuration as a human animal. Way out on the surface of it all is our self. The ego. Nobody can tell with any certainty when their self came into existence. They simply take it for granted. Then they might shrug with a smile and say "who cares?". I'm alive right now. That's a given. And then what? Just like any other animal, the human monkey wasn't born with any user manual type of script for what is the right way to live. It's all a mystery. 

Our so-called free will - which isn't so free after all when we start to investigate it - allows us to do a multitude of things with our minds and bodies. The possibilities are endless, but our choices are usually quite limited. We are afraid. It hurts and it is lonesome. What are those menacing sounds and shadows in the night? As a species, we seem to think that we have conquered nature and usurped the throne as kings of creation, but quite frankly I find that a ridiculous idea. Yes we have rocket ships that can fly us to the moon and beyond, but so what? Yes we have radiologic antennae and hyper telescopes that can "see" billions of light years into the vastness of space, but so what? I don't think that human curse of feeling small, lost and alone is ever going to go away. I don't think that the answers are "out there". I think the answers are right here, and right now, as they always were. There is no God. There are no space aliens of either the benevolent or the malevolent kind. Of course there is no telling whether there are creatures of some human resemblance out there, but so what? Why would we be more successful in our approach to an alien race than we are to any other races? Where you might look at a wooden table and see good craftsmanship, a tree will look at the same thing in horror and see a weird display of corpse parts done by an alien race.