Nichola Tesla was a lonely man. He was a brilliant man. He lived once, long ago, in a time that has passed. He understood the intricacies of electricity and harmonics, gravity and light, and the ether of space. More than that, he understood that they were all the same thing.
Today these many years later, mankind is yet to catch up to his brilliance. We have become sidetracked in a mathematical swamp, which pulls us into calculations, and away from free thought.
Tesla was a very odd man. I know much of him because, time after time, I find myself siding with him on a number of understandings within the realm of physics. Physics is my hobby. If I had another lifetime, I would spend it as a physicist. I, too, am an odd man. I see the “flashes” that Tesla saw and I believe that space is an ether, as Tesla did. Like Tesla, I am more at ease contemplating the spin of photons, and Bell’s inequality than I am at a cocktail party, discussing the markets or golf.
He was a lonely man. He preferred solitude. He never married. He had, perhaps, his closest relationship with a pigeon, who he loved. There was no woman or man who was his equal because he had no equal. He had no one to talk to. Einstein, one of only a few men who could grasp his understandings, was a mathematician, this resulted in a disparity of understanding of the material constituency of the universe. Though their methodologies, and their theory differed, they had deep respect for each other. (Tesla, by the way, was right).
Tesla felt best alone. I imagine, from my experiences, that he tried to understand human interaction and, eventually, simply gave up, deciding that the harmonics of the universe were more important to understand than why someone didn’t like the dress that he bought her for Christmas.
I am not as intelligent as Tesla was. He was more than a genius. What he was, they never made a word for, he was “Tesla”. Mankind has a way to go, then one day in the deep future, when, finally we glimpse the outer bounds of our being, we shall see Nichola looking back at us.
Many of us have helped others. It is a thankless endeavor. You find yourself squatting to push out the “golden egg”. One day the egg is not big enough, it may have some old feathers or fecal matter on it. “we could really use a couple more golden eggs this week.” Eventually you end up with a sore butt, and a renewed conviction to never help again. Such was the lot of Nichola Tesla.
He cranked out one miracle after another, until, giving the great man nothing for his effort, we demanded more – “what great understanding do you have for us this week?” He was ultimately frustrated when he declared his “death ray”, a harmonic EMF curtain that could destroy and kill at the turn of a dial, creating a harmonic attenuation that blew apart the structure of matter. One day we will find that he did, indeed, make such a thing. One day we will find that he hid it from us, because he saw us for what we truly are, inherently flawed beings.
The failure to “produce” was crippling on Tesla. Like Einstein, who took shortcuts to effect closure, creating theoretical errors, Tesla needed the appreciation of his fellow men. Tesla was surrounded by vultures who were pecking through his understanding to find a way to make a dollar, singularly small men, who could never understand Tesla. He hid the concept of the ray, as he should have, and he fell into obscurity, dyeing alone in a hotel room. Such is the blight of the super-intelligent.
They combed through his writings after his death, looking for a better way to kill, but, hopefully, Nikola, anticipated this. I would like to think that he sent them on a wild goose chase.
A man came to live among us for a while. He gave to us a glimpse of the secrets of the universe. He came from a place far away, deep into the future of humanity, or the past. He held the ultimate truths, but, he saw us for what we are, and without judging, he died, knowing that our time had not yet come.
Perhaps, somehow, he will come again, when we are ready, when we are kind to animals, when we no longer kill, or hate, when we are able, at last, to understand.