On the Miracle Problem

Nevédomosti №6: five examples of the extraordinary

Example 1: the miracle-maker¹

We ought (or rather, we must) talk about the miracle-maker who could perform any miracle imaginable. You might consider that he possessed all possible divine, supernatural and superheroic abilities and could, at his own will, alter reality, matter, non-matter, time, space—anything at all. He was not, however, a god, a creator, or any such entity, but merely a human who suddenly (whilst still at a tender age) discovered that he could work miracles. He did not know whether his ability was limited in quantity, quality, and so forth; he simply knew that he could, definitely could, but was terribly afraid to test it. Perhaps he was like a genie—capable of granting only three miracles, or perhaps like a magical flower with five petals which, when consumed, could be transmogrified into real miracles, or perhaps this was a deal with the devil, and his ability would never function as he expected, and the world, to which he wished only good and tranquillity, would instead, should he suddenly position his desire as a miracle, simply vanish—not according to the laws of miracle-making, but according to the laws of irony, which, incidentally, are always an order of magnitude stronger than the laws of miracle-making, and not merely stronger, but more reliable too. Or perhaps he was simply human, and wasn't certain that a miracle would truly manifest—he didn't fancy making a fool of himself.

The miracle-maker was an exemplary citizen, ethically well-shod, aesthetically toned, morally prepared for anything. He aspired to make suffering disappear from the world, but did not do so. He aspired to grant everyone happiness, but did not do so. He aspired to give the three-legged dog, which he encountered in the courtyard every day, a fourth leg, but did not do so. He wanted to live in a large, beautiful house on the lakeshore, and to settle his parents, friends, later—his wife, his children, grandchildren, all his acquaintances in equally large and beautiful houses on the lakeshore, where they could sit in the evenings, playing cards or the guitar, such that the music would warm their ears, and the fireplace would warm their bodies, and the cards would warm their hands and gambling limbs. This, however, he also did not do. To be honest, he did absolutely nothing, as he wasn't certain what exactly ought to be done first, what deserved his attention most of all, because if he did something inappropriate, even if it were a miracle, then others might begin to ask questions, like why this miracle and not another, and so he constantly asked himself this question, which transformed into a conundrum that completely consumed him. What, of all that surrounded him, truly deserved a miracle, and what slightly less or not at all? Was it even worth disrupting the natural order of things, in which miracles are not presumed, so as not to accidentally break anything with his "miracle"? For miracle differs from miracle, and the consequences of a miracle are difficult to predict. Such a skill he did not yet possess, owing to his lack of miracle-making experience.

He went to live in Antarctica, at the South Pole, where nobody ventures and wouldn't dream of venturing. There, amidst the frosts and snowy dunes, the eternally lasting polar nights and polar days, the miracle-maker, without employing his gift, built himself a house and set about living intensely and resolving the conundrums that pursued and bit at him everywhere like mosquitoes (big ones). Thus he lived to the age of a couple of millennia and so he died, having performed not a single miracle. His last words might have been "I am a good man, I am a kind man, a kind and good man am I", or something to that effect, but as he had no one to speak to, except perhaps the penguins, no one perceived those words.

Example 2: the miracle²

Nearly before the very end of the world, people went off to live alongside animals in forests, fields, mountains and even deserts, causing cities to empty and become covered with moss resembling yellow-green carpets—a typical pre-apocalypse, in a word. Some decided to remain in the cities nonetheless and wandered there all alone-alonely, believing in no end of the world whatsoever and not understanding where everyone had suddenly gone-vanished. The skyscrapers seemed to have drawn closer to the sky, not because someone had extended them upwards, but because the sky had, as it were, lowered itself. It began to press down upon the skyscrapers and, as it were, crush them into the earth; perhaps this is precisely why people scattered, as ants would scatter if someone covered their anthill with a sheet of iron. Such sheets, if sufficiently thin, emit amusing sounds when waved about, those vibrating undulating "whee-oo-whee-oo" sounds, oscillating hums, wave-like rustles. Perhaps it was precisely this sound that scattered everyone.

And lo, right before the very end of the world, in one of the neo-human settlements in the valley of a large and well-known river, which in springtime often burst its banks and flooded the surrounding lands for several kilometres, there appeared someone who claimed to be a miracle-maker. As a stranger, he wandered between houses and told everyone that he, specifically he, could perform a miracle, any miracle, even the very one that would halt the end of the world, and all would be able to continue living happily ever after until natural death (if, of course, one does not count the end of the world as such) would part them. There were those who did not listen to him, there were those who believed him at his word, but most numerous were those who couldn't care less about his words.

—So what if it's the end of the world?

—So what if it's a miracle?

—Do we even need it?

—We don't need it.

—What even is a miracle? Something impossible? That which one cannot believe with the mind, even if seen with the eyes? How then can it be created, if it is impossible?

—Well, a miracle's a miracle. Very happy for you and we shall be exceedingly grateful. We're certain it's simply miraculous, and everyone will benefit tremendously from it.

—Charlatan!

—Oh, leave the holy fool alone. What's he to you? Why do you mock the miracle-maker—they've all but died out as it is, and you're ready to stone the last of them.

—You know, if aliens came and made everything better for us all—be they from Mars, Venus, or wherever—I still wouldn't believe in any aliens. Full stop!

—It's not human-like, this miracle-making. Now why on earth would one get oneself involved in such things?

—”The end of the world” this, “the end of the world” that... would it hurry up already.

—You know what, I believe him. He looks like a good man, a kind man, an exemplary citizen, ethically well-shod, aesthetically toned, morally prepared for anything. If he wants to work miracles—let him work them, why not?

—Listen, a miracle isn't bad at all, but what's the use? I'd even be delighted to have a look at it, but what then?

—He's gone completely mad, rushing around the area like a rabid wild dog, grabbing everyone by the collar and whispering with a rasp: “Miracle, miracle... I can save everyone...”

—The things we haven't seen, ah… “Miracle!” Fancy that, as if that's something to amaze us with. Every day is a miracle. Nothing extraordinary about it.

—I believe you, sir. You seem like a person of high standing and great knowledge. You have carte blanche for those miraculous proceedings of yours. Forward and with a song, as they say! And we shall see.

The other portion of neo-humans, who had neither the desire nor the strength to engage in dialogue, simply walked past the unfolding debates, and if they happened upon the miracle-maker himself, they either simply averted their gaze or looked at him with incomprehension. It was difficult to surprise them, for a person resembling a madman it was even impossible—after all, what doesn't happen in a world that is soon to end?

Example 3: left empty as an exercise for the reader³

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Example 4: subscription button⁴

Example 5: the visual entertainment section⁵

1. Inspired by Daniil Kharms’s short story “The Old Woman” which features no magician whatsoever and follows a chain of odd encounters of the protagonist with an old woman while he’s trying to write a story about a magician but cannot never finishes it.

2. Inspired by a rant discovered on the vast expanses of TikTok. The rant was, for the matter of fact, about technology, progress, etc.

3. Inspired by a lack of inspiration. I apologise, I didn’t come up with anything particular but I reckon you can see where this is going.

4. Inspired by the rules of “the game”.

5. Inspired by a need to create a thumbnail for a post and the author’s annual Canva subscription as well as eagerness to exercise basic skills making visuals.