As with spiral galaxies, the Golden Ratio (φ = 1.618 …) is integral to the structure of the pentagram. Some try to force the structure of DNA to fit into the Golden Ratio. It almost does. Each cycle of the double helical DNA spiraling molecule measures 34 angstoms long by 21 angstroms wide (34 and 21 are fibonacci numbers). The ratio 34/21 is 1.619 … almost the Golden Ratio. Almost. This matters.
In quantum chaos theory, we know that quantum coherence provides for maximum storage of information in a quantum system. Quantum coherence is vitally important to the almost magical function of quantum computers. Yet, we also know that the collapse of a quantum wavefunction, known as quantum decoherence, is necessary for 'discrete information' to manifest as materially present to our senses in the physical world. Quantum decoherence collapses a wavefunction into a discrete particle of energetic matter, as it does each energetic particle of matter in the cosmos.
The cosmos exists in spacetime because of almost. Physicists know that the Big Bang did not create equal quantities of matter and antimatter. It almost did, but a tiny bit more matter, about one particle per billion, than antimatter was created during the Big Bang. Matter and antimatter annihilate one another out of existence. Thus, everything that exists, has ever existed, and will ever exist in our cosmos comes into being because of almost. IT IS because of almost.
As a spontaneous breakdown of topological supersymmetry, chaos is the phenomenon of topological mixing (also called topological transitivity). Importantly, this phenomenon allows for the evolution of a system over time in its phase space (the space of a system where all possible states of a system are represented).
Even the evolution of time itself is asymmetric and built on almost. New research (There May be a Deeper Origin of Time, Quantum Asymmetry Between Time and Space, Joan Vaccaro of Griffith University Centre for Quantum Dynamics) proposes that as physical systems evolve over time, "there is no corresponding ubiquitous translation over space." The past and the future, as they relate to a fixed moment in time, are not treated equally by Nature. It is this inequality which is responsible for moving the cosmic ever-manifesting 'now' moment forward in time.
The existence of the cosmos, and everything in it, is dependent upon almost (the unequal ratio of matter to antimatter) and topological supersymmetry. The evolution of the cosmos, and everything in it including biological life, is dependent upon almost (matter:antimatter ratio, DNA 34:21 ratio with respect to the Golden Ratio) and breakdown of topological supersymmetry.
The pentagram represents the Golden Ratio, topological supersymmetry and discrete manifestation of the cosmos into perceptual spacetime. It is a sigil moving consciousness into being, into Presence in the Now. The pentacle represents 'almost' the Golden Ratio, the breakdown of topological supersymmetry and the evolution of the cosmos in spacetime. It is a sigil moving consciousness to evolve with respect to time. Both the pentagram and the pentacle are sigils of Witchcraft, where we as witches participate in the creation and evolution of our cosmos.
As I've shared before, my poem about almost, written by me over two decades ago:
first rhythms ever plunge, eternal hosts driven into life
drawing through a field of topographic brilliance
where judgment lovingly flows, churning out whole stones
resting against asymmetries trying, like diamonds in chaos
proto-perception foams, over annihilating operations
and from it, dark bursts of lucidity finely entwine
coarse grains of almost something, almost yet sufficient
the silent rush of yet nothing slides, wildly as percolating pivots
diligently thread through it, casting clarity
upon myriads, hard pauses startle into vision
projecting arrays without mass, strings of confluency
impressing discovery, a shadowy tail-end lingers
between depths of opposite observation
iterating embraces of many meanings like quasi-quanta
gathering functions about the head and, and
spinning spectra, pushing forward, yearning toward home
not knowing, yet only knowing
as some featureless reach edging edges stretches out
the magnetic sweet dance
where divisions collapse like crystal caves
softly sprinkling the belly of the night divine
with bytes of thoughtbare kisses
extending the glorious field of apprehension