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There are no things. There are only words. The Divine Words of Creation.
The words become fragmented, their letters scattered.
Only then are they called things; for scattered, they have no meaning.
Words in exile.
If so, their redemption lies in the story we tell with them. How we reorganize fragments into meaning, things into words, redefining what is real and what is not, and living life accordingly.
Life is in the interpretation of the words G-d gives us.

This is my attempt to meld religion and science without resorting to unintelligible verbiage.
Great Neck, NY/USA
Some how it seems the latter. But I suppose it could be either, on an as need basis.
Brooklyn, NY