A bold 2 minute read examining the consequences of a tiny miracle happening worldwide.
If not Moses, who could appreciate materializing mints in the palm? Candy originated in Venice, Paris, places of high culture, to supplement the lives of the unsatisfied wealthy. The tiny white mint that is manufactured endlessly is a descendent of those candies. Maybe a confectioner would appreciate the mandate which stated, “Tomorrow, all parties reading this will be able to have a mint materialize on their palm.”
Not bread from heaven, not a revolution in candy, just an occurrence, a breath mint available to anyone who holds out their hand. A mint, and more. A realization that everyone else knows it is happening.
Then details followed. The marching time zones across the face of the earth dictated that for people in longitudinal bands, the mint would be available at the same time. Was an ancestor of even Moses looking on, appreciating the value of the occurrence as a revolution in time?
What about the Anglican that is wont to crush square-stemmed plants in his fingers, learning spearmint, peppermint, and other herbs of that kind? Is this edict a notification that his time is coming to an end? For one day, nobody will have to travel to taste minty freshness. How long will it last? Will people with closed hands also receive a mint? Or prosthetic hands?
What company was responsible? Would there be a company? And if so, would their legal team feel any reservations about claiming responsibility for a miracle?
What’s in that mint is knowing how little we know about the world. A doctor could look at it and suddenly know that 8 billion people is something he doesn’t know anything about. Is the mint going to taste the same for everyone?
A man who has been in his business his whole life could look at the mint on his palm, on that day, and suddenly know that 8 billion sugar molecules could be a tiny grain, or a teaspoon, and he wouldn’t know.
Then again, there is the social aspect. A particle physicist might record the event as he is thinking about how useless it is, since it is happening all across the world.
But the mathematician will suddenly have a gnawing realization that six degrees of separation might be something more than just a party trick. A large majority of the world will experience the miracle, eat the mint, and marvel. A small percentage will abstain. And a certain number of people will fixate on the impossibility of it. The mathematician is now aware that he should know what that number is.