Sole, the Singularity and the Sun

"Keep to the point," said Mary Anne in the smoking shed at the Chequers tonight (9th December, I write this in the early hours). "If you've got something else to say about something, write it somewhere else." 
Good advice, I thought. Stick to the point, I vowed. Ok. The Sun, Sol, Sole and the Singularity. What's the point of all that? Synchronicity of language. How many variants on the word are there? Soul, sole, sole, sole, Sol. After the personal singularity of self comes fish, feet, and being the only one, not necessarily in that order. Finally the Sun. Possibly also known as Son.

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Looking up at the clear night sky while walking the dogs at midnight, counting without counting all those countless suns shining above me, I thought of the recent revelation science has come up with that I heard second-hand today - that countless more planets have been proved to be up there orbiting their Suns which could be life-bearing than had ever been thought probable before. By the scientists doing the proving, anyway. Doesn't say much for the rest of us, of course.

What else is the coincidence of synchronous language telling us other than that we closely identify with the Sun? How closely we communicate with it / him / her (?) is a subject only threatened with enlightenment when they find out about the multi-directional nature of the neutrino, one suspects.

If information, like / as / alongside time, travels in both directions, what's stopping  from believing in everything you want to believe in and having it be true for you? When everything important has just happened and all the connections those things are making are in our hands to respond to as we wish, we get more choice and less entrapment. With our face to a future wind, the ride is exhilarating. Holding back against the force while we brake into the past is exhausting, and just makes for irrational fear. What's the point? Is that the choice? 

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All the Suns, shining points of origin for life-giving photons, feeding tiny planets of more and more ideas for evolution, wanting only to continue the quest for advancement. Only to come unstuck when creating us. Oh dear, suddenly the planetary balance sheet gets ripped up and something horrid takes over. How many more life forms are making the same mistakes, you reckon?

In Stargate, one race had it all. The Nox. They were the only ones SG1 encountered who knew all there was needed to know.