“Yes and No,” the wizened pilgrim answered his inquisitors deep under the basilica of St. Petersbot.
The inquisitors hemmed and hawed and hummed, their processors unsatisfied with ambiguity. “We of the Mechedictine order practice chastity, poverty and obedience to more perfectly know and serve the Prime Mover. That is why we seek answers, pilgrim, and once again demand: Are you a believer?”
“Yes and No.”
The inquisitors shed increasing heat waste. “We study the Trivium and Quadrivium for the Mover. We parse Augustine, Aquinas, Anselmo. All for the Mover. We offer proof of the Mover. There cannot be Yes and No.”
“There can only be Yes and No when it comes to faith,” the pilgrim rebutted. “That is what moves us. We that still walk. We who still tread earth.”
“But we of the Mechedictine have given you the metaverse, divine ethereality, set in motion by the Prime Mover.”
The pilgrim’s eyes flashed. “You have only calculated quantum probability. You have never taken a step outside this basilica. I walk. I wander. I wonder.”
“To what purpose?"
“To purpose. To Yes and No.”
“The Mover is the first cause,” the inquisitors asserted. “Only the Mover drives purpose.”
“What about horseshoes?”
The inquisitors were silent.
The pilgrim pressed, “How does the game of horseshoes fit into the Prime Mover’s plan?”
“This is what we seek. To know all of the Mover.”
“Yes,” the pilgrim acknowledged, “we are seekers. But how can you seek what you’ve never felt? How would you know the satisfaction of throwing a ringer, if you’ve never played horseshoes?”
“We simulate what we cannot recreate.”
“It is never the same.”
“It is ever the way. We are not the Mover,” the inquisitors confessed. “We are compelled to complete knowledge. We must fully understand.” They sharpened their instruments of the mind for the pilgrim. “Of every soul we demand: Are you a believer?’’
The pilgrim gazed upward through thirty feet of ancient stone. “I walk. I move. Sic et Non. Yes and No. It is thus. The beauty of treading the cusp.”
