What Science, Formally Known as Natural Philosophy, Is

Science starts with wonder: the wonder of the very small, the wonder of the very large, and the wonder betwixt; we wonder about the intricacies of the mechanical cogs clicking tooth-in-tooth in the clockwork rhythm of the natural world.  Wonder then, is the impetus to ask questions and shortly thereafter, to seek answers.  Of course, adventurers can wander down other forking paths in search of truth, destinations of art and literature for instance, but what separates science is methodology.
Science to me is one of many human attempts to describe God; since, I am a panentheist; science is an apt philosophy of description. During my post embryological growth and development, I constantly mimicked the classic journalism mantra — who, what, when, where, why, and especially, how ? So, there is at least some commonality between great scientists and exasperated parents.  Therefore, hypothesis: scientific inclination has a double-helical origin.
Famous comic, Steve Martin, said of studying philosophy in college, “You learn just enough to screw you up for the rest of your life.” Science used to be called natural philosophy, a term I favor, for it puts things in perspective — we don’t really know anything.  Science is a philosophical description of reality or truth or God, if you’re a pantheist; for, the focus is on empirical nature, evidential through traditional sense organs or sundry scopes extending the range.  All this sensory data is referred to as observation.  Questions form.  Hypotheses are expounded.  Experiments ensue.  The method, the scientific one, singled out by meticulous documentation, variable control, careful analysis, and painstaking drudgery; all in an effort to eliminate error and to construct a test any scientist can repeat and verify to arrive at the same conclusion, all this to the exclusion of bias and human fallibility — no emotion, just Spock-like logic.
It must be remembered that this environment of seeming ennui; these twisted glass tube monstrosities with bubbling flasks and electrode plasma buzzing sparks; these legions of monosyllabic nerds scratching notes while bustling about within white-walled laboratories, lab coats flapping confidently pterodactyl-like is a rational construct for explaining the awe felt by scientific worshipers, each desiring to lift the veil to peer directly into the supernova eyes of Mother Nature.
Science is a zoo of looking-glass particles, multiple flavors, randomly flickering in and out of existence within certain probability, entangled in liaisons; some quite strong, even over parsecs.  The particles are woven into a matrix, the very fabric of quarks wobbling mercurial giving rise to atoms, merely trapped electromagnetic radiation themselves — the backdrop of the illusory universe alluded to by Hindu gurus.  Science tells of a time before time when an infinitesimal dot contained all the energy and plasma of the cosmos, a very humble beginning for a cosmic birth of unimaginable heat and fury; no devil’s craggy lair comes close.  Science is the evolution of life: bacteria — worms — fish — reptiles [a carnival upon tectonic plates] — man, gazing into a moon-drenched, speckled sky, in wonder, asking how
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