Made of nothing...

Okay. So if philosophy is worth anything, then, it should exist right? I know, I know, "Cogito Ergo Sum". Not so fast.
Everybody insists on this infinity and eternity existing. And why not? But then that makes you a finite portion of the infinite. And I know, mathematically, a finite portion of infinity is actually undefined but it seems like if you divided infinity into one you'd never get the answer really but as you got closer to infinity the answer would get closer and closer to zero.
What I'm getting at is that it would seem that any portion of infinity is equal to zero or...worth nothing. Perhaps made of nothing.
Yet, here we are. So what's the problem? Where's the mistake?
It would appear that the only thing that's real is the here and now as opposed to the past, the future and way over there. So what does that say about infinity? Nothing. It says infinity is nothing too. In fact, infinity is a concept that can only be assumed or believed in rather than proven.
Frequently you'll find yourself at the conclusion that all that philosophical stuff doesn't really matter much because you believe what you believe. Some even think that what's around them, their life, is only there because you believe it. That's what your brain does all day. Goes around, wrapped in prime meat, believing stuff.
But the meat and the brain...apparently nothing.
So all there is is nothing and belief.
Yet...somewhere out there...God is wearing a robe and a long white beard. Nope. It's a Chicago police mustache.
Why do I believe that? Because the Chicago cops can do anything they want. So can God. It also proves that God is a man. Because even the female Chicago cops are men. Because the male Chicago cops beat the female chicago cops to death and cover it up by making it look like some sort of accident in a sausage vat.
At least, someone believes that...right?
Nothing plus belief equals?...

How many?

How many realities does it take to screw in a light bulb?
Yes.
How many quarks are in a sea scallop?
Maybe.
How many roads must an anti-proton take before we call him a man?
That's what I'm trying to say.
What I mean by that is: We think there are definite answers to stuff in ways that "make sense". Shut up.
You don't even know what sense is.
Oh wait, of course you do. We made "sense" up. Our order faking minds pulling patterns from chaos.
If our brains ordered reality differently, we'd be existing in another "dimension".
Right?
Three.