Sorry I've insulted you. I don't know much about programming, and that jackass has a new book out, sooooo....
It's been a while since I've read Monadology. I forget if it was an excerpt from a book or just an essay that I read, but it's pretty wild. Basically, the monad is a tiny mind, and it's the smallest possible thing. Over a trillion of them can fit in the period at the end of this sentence. But they don't really have any physical attributes (this was a philosopher writing theis, after all, not a cientist). Everything in the world is made up of these tiny monads, and they all move in sync with each other. They're programmed with dancesteps and they all dance, each step scripted, even if it seems like it's a reaction from another monad. For instance, if I throw a brick at Colin's head, it will look like his head will be knocked back from the force of the brick, but really the brick monads and his face monads will come close to each other and then quickly seperate, as they are programmed to do. Some monads get bigger when they get more knowledge and become more complicated, and these monads become our brains. And when we die, it's not really death so much as our brain monad just becomes regular sized again and rejoins the vast sea of monads that make up the world. So we don't really die, we just become much simpler.
It kinda doesn't make any sense, and I imagine the original writer did a much better job than I did, but it's just one of those neat theories about existence. Squee.
I'm now reading a book by Violet Incredible.
I won't be the stars in your dark night.