Moods: My Man

To people who aren’t from this Athe-forsaken land full of elephants, snakes, snake-charmers, call centers and cheap bombs; or people who’re just too prudish to watch certain ads on TV… the title is a reference to this.

The actual post has nothing to do with sex, safe sex, contraceptives and the usage of contraceptives while having sex. Nope. It’s just that I’m feeling unusual.

Life isn’t supposed to resemble humanity’s views on the cosmos. But mine does.

In ancient times, I believed I was the center of the universe. My life was centered on ME and everything else revolved around it. I wasn’t exactly your manipulative, self-centered and obsessed “BUT WHAT ABOUT ME?” male version of the bitches from VH1’s ‘My Super Sweet Sixteen’. I was more of the apathetic, self-centered and obsessed “You do what you want and leave me alone” proto-Goth kid. And I believed that my personality had edges. Go too far and I’ll fall into an infinite void of… something. I never knew what. I still don’t know what.

Now, however, I’ve realized that though I’m finite as a person (DAMN!), I have no boundaries. Which is cool. But… I’ve also moved from the center of the universe. A new occupant has arrived there and I’m merely revolving around the new object at the center. And this… I do not like.

It looks like the last week or so was more of a binary star scenario. Maybe. Maybe not.

And that leads me to Alan Guth’s Inflationary Model of the Universe. Perhaps all of our lives work in that way. A Big Bang, a period of large-scale inflation which results in the formation of a more or less static looking universe. You only realize that the universe is expanding from careful observation and the only consequence of this expansion is that things that were close to each other within the universe early on move farther and farther away and the farther they are, the faster the move away.

I would fit Stephen Hawking’s No Boundary Proposal into this collection of meaningless rambling trash, but I don’t want to scare my loyal readership with the prospect of imaginary time is what is, in actuality, real and what we call real time is a figment of our collective subconscious imagination and a life whose only boundary condition is that it has no boundary. Instead…

When John Archibald Wheeler (who was, apart from one of the best physicists of the 20th century, also RPF’s doctoral thesis adviser) named stars which have collapsed such that not even electromagnetic radiation can escape their gravitational pull as “Black Holes” (another suggested name was “Dark Stars”), the French were repulsed as they believed this title held quite a few sexual connotations. When he further showed how all solutions of the Einstein-Maxwell Equations of General Relativity that result in a black hole are completely characterized by three parameters: mass, electric charge and angular momentum and described this theorem as “Black Holes Have No Hair”… them Frenchies were vindicated. Like anyone else gave a fuck.

Hmmm… I guess I’ll just do an MBA.


Filed under Crap Rating- *****, Ideas, Life, Random, Why Life Sucks

3 responses to “Moods: My Man

  1. Worst. Post. Ever.

    BTW, have you seen the link on the bottom comment on “dance gappa dance” by “immargaicero”?


  2. I totally agree.

    Will delete it. But first…

  3. Your last line is blasphemy. MBA is a word which is rotten, twisted, warped, repulsive, horrible, disgusting… and is not to be mentioned by a Pure One like you. MBA is devil!!!

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