‘If God does not exist, one will lose nothing by believing in him, while if he does exist, one will lose everything by not believing.’
– Blaise Pascal
We have a stainless steel pepper grinder.
When the kitchen light is turned on
there is another bubbled room reflected in the bulbous top.
This is the problem: duplicity is always shining
forth from ordinary objects.
Pascal developed his equations because he was losing
at cards and dice. We like to play games but only if
we get to keep our shirts.
At the casino, striped ties and slinky dresses
are calculations. We show a lot of skin. We’re practically naked.
I waitress at a restaurant with limestone walls.
Pasta is the cheapest thing on the menu.
It’s very popular.
It’s my job to grind pepper for the customers.
What I’ve learned is this:
some people like a lot of pepper and some people don’t.
You can never tell.
Pascal understood that probability is triangular in nature.
Cardan was also working on this problem
for noble reasons. He was in debt.
In an amazing act of clairvoyance he accurately predicted
the date of his own death. He had the probability thing down.
He marked the cards and rigged the dice.
They arrested him when he discovered Jesus Christ
was a Capricorn. Cardan loved pepper. I can sympathize.
I used to be a croupier.
I liked watching the dice roll across the green felt,
especially because it wasn’t my shirt.
Pascal, I think God would know
you were hedging your bets.
Cardan hedged too. He committed suicide.
The God equation is absolutely clear.
God could be hiding inside the pepper grinder
and there you are, shredding him to bits
on top of your farfalle, gobbling him up
with the chunks of tomatoes and kalamata olives.
What are the odds? You can never be certain.