And what would be the state of the laboratory after pulling the plug? What would remain in Miri's memory?

Once again, we have a special cameo appearance by our producer, Rabbi Tzvi Freeman:

Rabbi Freeman:

You may be wondering why (so far), Miri, Rabbi Infinity, Feivel, the Golem and the fly never all appear in action on the same scene. The simple reason: Pilar would be at my throat if I scripted that.

Pilar is creating all this in Adobe Flash. Each character is a full set of animated pieces synched together and orchestrated within a giant score with more channels than a Wagnerian symphony has parts. At a certain point of complexity, her Mac's CPU and Pilar's highly developed brain get hypermaxed into flames.

So we had to make some concessions.

Which just brings you to greater appreciation of the Master Scripter and Animator of All Things:

I first felt this appreciation while a beta site for a graphic programming tool back in the 90s called the "mTropolis Object Model"—MOM for short. MOM was an amazing tool created by Norm Gudmunson, one of the best programmers I've known. Like most great projects it was bought out by a big, greedy corporation called Quark that had no use for it and shelved. I guess the universe just wasn't ready.

mTropolis was a tool for creating worlds. You really felt like a creator. You drew a couple of objects (or rendered them in 3D) and then dragged and dropped properties and behaviors into them. Rather then having to visualize how your code would play out, you manipulated your world directly and saw it happening there before you.

So there I was creating a universe, assigning celestial bodies their mass, radiance, velocity and path, along with the same for spaceships—except that the spaceships also had other properties, such as magnetic shields and stealth capabilities. Each object would broadcast messages to all or some of the other objects with relevant information, like, "Here's my position so you know if I just collided into you. Here's my mass, so you can adjust your path according to my gravitational pull. Oh, and I just fired a missile at you, at such and such a velocity with the following lethal powers…"

So here I am with five objects broadcasting their messages, and each object with its set of behaviors so it can react to those messages, each in its own way—but with "children" who inherit some of its properties, but not necessarily all, and with maybe a few enhancements. The whole scene has to be done so that I can pick it up out of whatever game it's in and plop it into a totally other game and it's still going to work just the same. And I'm sitting there for 16 hours non-stop, holding all the messages and behaviors in mind, juggling all the possibilities, that when this spaceship gets this message, it's going to do this and it's going to broadcast it's message about what it's doing to these other objects and when they get that, they will then behave by…

…at which point, Brad Wutzizneim walks in my door and says, "Tzvi, what's up?" and I scream, "Noooooo!!! I lost it! I gotta start all over again now! Brad, you just wasted 16 hours!"

That's a world with five objects (and their children). Here's a universe of 10 to the 80^th power of particles (by our current estimate). A single hydrogen atom is infinitely more complex than my little universe—never mind an amoeba or an ant! And, unlike the way I run my human body, none of this is in auto-pilot. Every detail is under the direct supervision of the One Cosmic Intelligence, directing every move with deliberate intent, conducting a symphony of movement and energy far beyond the capacity of our puny brains to imagine, all in exquisite harmony, all towards a single goal.

And He never maxes out.

Steve Wozniak wrote the code for the first mouse driver with a pencil in machine code and I admire him for that.