Informed Consent | For Kurt Godel

by Dr. Lloyd Jacobs

                                Yes, but you must wager,

                                 it is not optional - Pascal


The day after the diagnosis he spent                              

calculating odds ratios, parsing unruly time

into intervals like the rings

in a slice of tree, into strobe frozen

events and assigning likelihoods and values. 


In a solipsistic mind, he built,

as the age demanded (that we sing),

scenarios and models of a future long or short, 

built on utility functions and probabilities,


until he knew exactly what he didn’t know 

from Markov chains and Bayesian constructs, 

what was best represented by a fifty-fifty throw

and that a die is constrained

to fall on one of six faces. He remembered 

how the lot fell upon Jonah.


The analysis required the assignment 

of numbers to a complex life:

a fluid market portfolio was easy

the expectations of colleagues more difficult

a daughter and sons slow to mature, painful

but most of all, tacitly accepted by his wife,

a decade of joy with a young lover.  


On the third day he despaired at the wild  

fluctuations which plagued his work. 

He concluded there must be hidden variables,

unknowables, affecting his results.

He fitted to the lacunae arbitrary constants 

after the manner of Planck and Einstein. 


Then it came to him: there may be terms 

he could only fear.  He came to see fates and furies 

at the interstices of every equation.

Every conclusion was manifestly absurd.      



It was the week before he died

Raymond’s wife called. She was terse: 

He wants to see you, was all she said.


I need you to finish greasing 

the wide hay rake. The big wheels 

are done, it’s the casters I left for later.  


He paused to riffle among the files

of his mind for things left incomplete,

machine repairs or secret loves,

things unfinished that might linger

to reproach or jeer at life’s extremity.   


One more thing, he said.

A long handled shovel, against the North 

wall of the barn, it’s in the rain. 


Dr Lloyd Jacobs is President Emeritus of the University of Toledo, he has published 3 collections of poetry, previously he was a professor of vascular surgery at the University of Michigan.


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Woodrow Wilson: Liberal Idealism Stifled by Illness