Monday, June 18, 2012
It has been a long time since I posted. It just seems that during the summer there is too much to do - too many obligations so computer time is put off to the never never.
My wife and I make a motor cycle run each month with The United Bikers of Maine and we try to take off by ourselves once a week (for some distance eatery) on the bike.
We monitor a local lake twice a month for water quality and invasive plants. We try to work out at the gym at least twice a week and we bowl with a league once a week. On top of that there is grass to mow, a flower bed and raised vegetable patch to tend, bird feeders to fill, a to-do list of summer maintenance chores that I make each spring (and rarely finish,) and at present there is a cord of fire wood, cut and split, sitting by the side of the house that I need to move into my wood shed one wheelbarrow load at a time.
And then there are books to read: so many books so little time.
Any way that’s my excuse and I am sticking to it.
But I have recently come across something so startling that I feel I must post.
You probably don’t remember but when I started this blog my main goal was to define the meaning of life.
To that point, I have just come across some revealing scientific information (at least as valid as Republican truisms) on the actual meaning of life and the theory of everything.
The largest computer in the universe (according to the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy) has determined the theory of everything is the number 42.
Physicist speak of the beginning of creation as the Big Bang, a time when an indescribably dense point in nothingness explodes, throwing out matter which creates an expanding universe.
I suppose we could describe the end of creation as the Big Suck. This would be a time when all matter returns in upon itself, forming a gigantic black hole and finally shrinking again to some miniscule point in nothingness.
I hate to tell you but the time of the Big Suck is really not far away. As a matter of fact, I have come to believe it is at the end my foreseeable future. You see, this is the way it works: It’s like Schrodinger’s cat - When I die the world is gone – Sorry, but there is nothing left. If I can’t see you, you don’t exist. My death is the Big Suck. As my reality shrinks like a heavy star into a cognitive black hole from which nothing returns, so goes creation. The world and the universe are snuffed. Time and space converge into nothing.
Now knowing the meaning of everything is the number 42 it seems to verify my original assumption (posted in many of my post.)
“do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself around”
Count it – forty-two characters: I was right.
or like Yellow Dog Granny says: we're all fucked