When we look out at the ocean, it seems endless. So does Lake Michigan, but there is a great difference in size. The similarity is that we can’t see across either one. The ocean goes all the way around the world and takes up most of it. To sail across the Atlantic takes weeks, to sail across the Pacific takes more.
And yet, ships have crossed it, we’ve mapped it, built cities along its coastlines, and we think we know it. We don’t know it. All that we see is the surface, that thin film across the top, that .00nothing percent which is visible to our eyes, a two dimensional blanket across a three dimensional area which goes more than ten kilometers down at some points.
Not only can’t we see the bottom without specialized craft which cost millions and millions of dollars, we can’t even see two inches below the surface. We know nothing. Occasionally, though, world’s collide. After Harvey, a very strange creature was discovered on a Texas beach. It’s big, dead, ugly as hell, and has needle like teeth. The best biologists could do was “Well, it’s probably some kind of eel,” which is sort of like “The Chupacabra is probably some kind of dog.”
The ocean has secrets, just because it’s so vast. And as vast as the ocean is, the great world encircling ocean, there are other things in our existence just as vast, about which we also have only seen the surface. Space, the inner workings of our own minds, the nature of the universe, and more. We know nothing.