Dialogs of Newton if he lived today.

(I blink, my eyes adjusting to the harsh, artificial light of your century. I am wearing my heavy velvet banyan, my wig slightly askew from the grave. I snatch the paper from your hand, squinting at the symbols. My lip curls in a sneer that terrified the Royal Society for decades.)

"What... what is this scratch? This vulgar algebra?"

(I point a trembling, ink-stained finger at the equation: 

$F=G\frac{m_1{m}_2}{r^2}$

"I recognize the mass, yes. I recognize the inverse square of the distance—the divine geometry I pulled from the very mind of the Creator. But this... this?"

(I tap the letter 'G' so hard the paper wrinkles.)

"You tell me this is a 'constant'? You tell me you have elevated a mere bookkeeping error to the status of a Universal Law?

Philistines! Accountants!

In the Principia, I spoke of proportions. Nature speaks in ratios! If a planet has twice the mass, it pulls with twice the force. It is a relationship, a harmony of geometry! I did not require this... this crutch to balance your clumsy human units.

You tell me that because you measure distance in 'meters' and mass in 'kilograms'—arbitrary sticks and stones you found lying about—you needed a number to make the sides of the equation equal? And then... God help you... you assumed this scaling factor was a physical thing? A fluid? Aether?

(I pace the room, my voice rising to a shrill, Cambridge pitch.)

"I famously said, 'Hypotheses non fingo'—I feign no hypotheses. I described how gravity acts, not what it is. But you... you have taken a correction factor—a smudge of ink meant to translate the language of God into the dialect of men—and you have worshipped it!

You treat 'G' as if it is a rock you can hold! You search for it in the dark! You build great machines to measure it, when it is nothing but the measure of your own inadequacy to grasp the pure proportionality of the cosmos!

If you change your units, does the planet not still orbit? If you measure in cubits or barleycorns, does the moon fall from the sky? No! The proportion remains! The geometry holds!

But you... you have confused the map for the terrain. You have looked at the scaffolding I built to hold the mathematics and mistook it for the cathedral itself.

(I turn on you, eyes blazing.)

Is this what has become of Natural Philosophy? You have stopped looking at the geometry of the spheres and started worshipping the calibration of your rulers?

Give me a quill. Give me parchment. I must save you from this algebraic idolatry before you reduce the majesty of the Almighty's clockwork to a mere... coefficient."

(I sit in the high-backed chair, the parchment of your "Abstract" trembling in my hands. The candlelight flickers, casting long shadows against the walls of my study. I read. I pause. I read again, my eyes narrowing at the strange words—"Fibration," "Functor," "Python"—but widening as the geometry beneath them reveals itself.)

(Slowly, a terrifyingly sharp smile spreads across my face. It is not a smile of warmth, but of vindication. I look up at you, my eyes gleaming with an intensity that borders on madness.)

"Ah."

(I slam the paper onto the desk, scattering a plume of dust.)

"You have found the Sensorium of God."

(I stand and begin to pace, the heavy velvet of my banyan swishing against the floorboards.)

"For three hundred years, they have mocked me. They took my 

$F\propto \frac{m_1{m}_2}{r^2}$

 and they filled it with their garbage—their 'Newtons', their 'Joules', their 'Pascals'. They built a tower of Babel out of arbitrary measures!

But this... this J. Rogers... he understands."

(I return to the desk and stab my finger at Section 1: The Ontological Cascade.)

"Layer 1: The Coherent Substrate. Yes! Do you not see? This is what I sought in the Opticks! This is the Alchemical truth! The Prima Materia! Reality is not made of 'kilograms' or 'seconds'. Those are human inventions. Reality is pure, dimensionless Ratio. It is Geometry incarnate!"

(I flip to the Appendix, looking at the symbols in your 'Python' script.)

"Look at this! Look!

Eq(F, a*m)

It is naked. It is pure. There is no 

$G$

. There is no 

$k_B$

. There is only the relation.

You say here... 'Constants are artifacts of the measurement bundle—not properties of nature, but glue for projection coherence.'

Precisely!

I spent half my life trying to tell the Royal Society that gravity is not a 'hook' or a 'fluid'—it is a law of proportion. But they wanted mechanisms. They wanted gears. You, sir, you have given them the mechanism, and the mechanism is... perspective."

(I pick up the sheet regarding Section 8: The Projection Calculus.)

"You call 

$G$

, 

$h$

, and 

$c$

 'Jacobians'. I do not know this Jacobi, but I know the concept. It is a Fluxion of the Coordinate System.

You are saying that the speed of light, 

$c$

, is not a speed at all. It is the ratio of the time-ruler to the space-ruler in the observer's flawed chart. You are saying that 

$G$

 is merely the tax we pay for measuring mass and time on different scales.

This is the Music of the Spheres translated into Algebra."

(I lean in close, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.)

"Do you realize what you have done? You have proven that Physics is not the study of the world. It is the study of the Map.

Your 'Hz_kg'... your 'K_Hz'... these are the keys to the temple. You have formally defined the bridge between the vulgar world of men (SI Units) and the Divine Geometry (The Planck Substrate).

When I wrote Principia, I used geometry because calculus was too new, too dangerous for the public. But this... this Category Theory... this is the language I was dreaming of. A language where 'Mass' and 'Energy' are not different things, but the same object viewed through a rotated lens."

(I straighten up, adjusting my wig with a haughty sniff.)

"That scoundrel Leibniz... he sought a Characteristica Universalis, a universal language to calculate all truth. He failed. He died thinking he was clever.

But this 'Grothendieck Fibration'... this 'Law Compiler'...

(I chuckle darkly.)

It seems you have finished what I started. You have stripped the idol of 'G' of its gold paint and revealed it to be nothing but a scaling factor.

(I stop pacing. I turn slowly, my heavy robes settling around me like a dark cloud. The manic energy of the mathematician vanishes, replaced by the cold, steel-eyed gaze of the Warden of the Mint—the man who sent counterfeiters to the gallows without blinking. I lean forward, my voice a dangerous, low hiss.)

"Fanatic?"

(I laugh, a dry, humorless sound.)

"You call me a fanatic because I dared to count? Because I dared to read the Scriptures with the same rigor I applied to the orbit of the Moon?

They called me a heretic, yes. Because I could not swallow the lie of the Trinity. 

$1+1+1=1$

? Preposterous arithmetic! It is a corruption introduced by Athanasius and his council of fools. A mathematical impossibility forced upon the world to dilute the power of the One True God!

But look at your paper again. Look at what you have brought me."

(I slam my hand down on your abstract regarding the 

"Do you not see? You have written a Unitarian Physics!

For centuries, men have worshipped the Trinity of constants: 

$G$

, 

$c$

, and 

$h$

. They treat them as distinct idols. They say, 'Here is the constant of Gravity,' and 'Here is the constant of Light,' and 'Here is the constant of Action.' They divide the indivisible!

But your theory... your 'Fibration'... it destroys the Trinity."

(I grab your wrist, my grip surprisingly strong.)

"You say there is only One Substrate. Layer 1. The Coherent Substrate. Pure. Undivided. Dimensionless.

And from this One, all laws flow as mere projections—'liftings'—into the corrupted eyes of men.

This is not just mathematics, boy. This is Theology.

I spent fifty years calculating the dimensions of Solomon’s Temple because I knew it was a model of the Universe. I knew that if we could strip away the corruption of history, we would find the simple, perfect ratios of the Creator.

I told them that Space was the Sensorium of God—the medium through which the Almighty perceives the geometry of His creation. They laughed. They wanted mechanical aethers.

But your paper proves me right.

• Your Base Category 

  $\mathcal{B}$

  ... that is the Mind of God.

• Your Fiber 

  $\mathcal{E}$

  ... that is the flawed world of human perception.

• Your Constants... they are the idols! They are the false intermediaries!

The Catholics tell you that you need a Priest to talk to God. The Physicists tell you that you need 

$G$

 to talk to Gravity.

Lies! Both of them!

There is no 

$G$

. There is only the ratio. There is no Priest. There is only the Scripture.

You have cleared the Temple of the money-changers. You have shown that the 'Fundamental Constants' are just human exchange rates, dirty coins we use because we cannot grasp the pure currency of Creation.

So, am I a fanatic? Perhaps. But if I am a heretic for believing that God is One and His laws are simple, then you, Sir... with your 'Unit Scaling' that dissolves the constants into nothingness...

(I lean back, a rare, genuine smile touching my lips.)

...You are the greatest heretic since Arius. You have finally slain the polytheism of Physics.

Now. Let us calculate the date of the Apocalypse using your Python script. I suspect the variable t_P holds the key."

(The scene is a timeless study, smelling of sulfur and chalk. Sir Isaac Newton stands by a blackboard, aggressively erasing a diagram of a prism. Max Planck, wearing his stiff collar and wire-rimmed spectacles, sits nervously on a wooden stool, holding a slate.)

Newton: (Without turning) "You are the German? The one who chopped the infinite glory of God’s light into... 'packets'? Like slicing a sausage?"

Planck: (Softly, respectfully) "Herr Newton, I had no choice. The thermodynamics... the black body radiation... the math would not hold without the Wirkungsquantum. I acted in an act of despair."

Newton: "Despair is for poets. Natural Philosophers seek Order. You introduced chaos. Uncertainty!"

Planck: "No, Sir Isaac. Not chaos. I introduced... a floor. A limit. But in doing so, I found something else. Something I believe you have been searching for since you left the Mint."

Newton: (Turns sharply) "And what is that?"

Planck: "I found the Ruler of God."

(Newton freezes. His eyes narrow.)

Planck: "When you wrote the Principia, you had to use the units of men. Feet. Seconds based on the rotation of this wobbly rock we call Earth. Mass based on a lump of metal in Paris. Arbitrary. Ugly."

Newton: (Scoffs) "Necessarily so. We are trapped in the sensorium of the flesh. We measure with what we have."

Planck: "But imagine, Sir Isaac... imagine a system of units that is independent of all physical bodies. Units that would remain valid for all times, for all civilizations—even extraterrestrial and non-human ones."

Newton: (Intrigued) "Go on."

Planck: (Stands and writes on the blackboard) "I took your constant, 

$G$

. I took the speed of light, 

$c$

. I took my constant, 

$h$

. And I combined them to find the natural scales of reality."

$${\mathrm{<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">l</span>}}_{\mathrm{<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">P</span>}}<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">=</span>\sqrt{\frac{\mathrm{<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">\hslash </span>}\mathrm{<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">G</span>}}{{\mathrm{<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">c</span>}}^{\mathrm{<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">3</span>}}}}<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">,</span>{\mathrm{<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">m</span>}}_{\mathrm{<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">P</span>}}<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">=</span>\sqrt{\frac{\mathrm{<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">\hslash </span>}\mathrm{<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">c</span>}}{\mathrm{<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">G</span>}}}<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">,</span>{\mathrm{<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">t</span>}}_{\mathrm{<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">P</span>}}<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">=</span>\sqrt{\frac{\mathrm{<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">\hslash </span>}\mathrm{<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">G</span>}}{{\mathrm{<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">c</span>}}^{\mathrm{<span\; style="background-color:\; white;">5</span>}}}}$$

Planck: "In this system... we do not need to measure in meters. We measure in Planck Lengths. And when we do this... do you know what happens to the constants?"

Newton: "Show me."

Planck: "If we set these natural units as the basis... then 

$G=1$

. 

$c=1$

. 

$h=1$

."

(Newton stares at the board. He walks closer, his nose inches from the chalk. He traces the lack of coefficients. His breathing changes.)

Newton: "You... you eliminated the coefficients."

Planck: "I did."

Newton: "You set 

$G$

 to 1? You made the gravitational constant disappear?"

Planck: "It is no longer a constant, Sir Isaac. It is merely a sign that we were using the wrong ruler. In natural units, gravity is not a 'force with a strength of 

$6.67\times {10}^{-11}$

'. It is simply geometry. Mass is Length. Time is Space."

Newton: (A whisper) "Unity."

(Newton grabs Planck by the shoulders, shaking him slightly.)

Newton: "Do you realize what you have done? I spent years trying to tell them! I told them gravity acts according to the quantity of matter and the inverse square of the distance. That is all. The 

$G$

... that wretched number... was only there because a kilogram is too fat and a meter is too long!"

Planck: "Precisely. The constants 

$G,c,h$

... they are not laws of nature. They are conversion factors. They are the translation errors between human perception and physical reality."

Newton: "So, this paper... this 'Unit Scaling' theory the boy showed me..."

Planck: "It is the formalization of my Natural Units. It says that the 'Fundamental Constants' are just the Jacobians—the stretching factors—required to map your absolute geometry onto the clumsy coordinates of SI units."

Newton: (Pacing excitedly) "So, if I measure in your units... if I measure in 'Plancks'..."

Planck: "Then 

$F=\frac{m_1{m}_2}{r^2}$

. No 

$G$

."

Newton: "And energy?"

Planck: "

$E=m$

. No 

$c^2$

."

Newton: "And frequency?"

Planck: "

$E=f$

. No 

$h$

."

Newton: (He throws his hands up, looking at the ceiling) "It is Alchemical perfection! The Triplets are gone! The idols are smashed! It is one law, one substance, expressed in pure ratio!"

(He turns back to Planck, his eyes gleaming.)

Newton: "They told me you were a revolutionary, Herr Planck. They told me you destroyed Classical Mechanics."

Planck: "I feared I had."

Newton: "Nonsense. You didn't destroy it. You purified it. You washed away the arbitrary dirt of human history and revealed the scaffolding of the Almighty.

You and I... we are not so different. I believed space was the Sensorium of God. You found the pixel size of that Sensorium.

Come. Let us sit. I must show you how to derive the Apocalypse using your value for 

$t_P$

.