According to some physicists, there is a high likelihood that another 35 year-old version of me, also happily living in my father's basement, is existing in another universe. Or maybe it's my mother's basement, if she had one.
Or, it's a universe where my father is living in my basement. Slowly smoking his cigarettes, falling asleep on the couch and watching waaaaayyy too many weather forecasts and HLN. In that order. According to those same physicists, there is most likely a universe where you are actually writing this blog post, all of you, and your combined ideas meet up in some bright room with one light bulb swinging, they sit down to have a roundtable about the fate of antarctica and the dark side of the moon and dairy queen blizzards.
Anything is possible.
The point is: science weaves mighty a book of tall tales, whoppers, my grandpa would call them. AND I LOVE IT. Science, when told in good story form, simply blows my mind. Science and Art are two lovers of the same thing: beauty. One works in equations and the other works in image and emotion. They are partners in a healthy relationship, sharing the load and trying their damnedest to open hearts and minds to the Great Big Vibe. How lucky we are, as funny little humans, to have our atoms align and connect and vibrate at the proper levels to form us. We are the universe becoming aware of itself, aghast at the look into the morning mirror. We have great bed head and it's tempting to sit and stare. But there is work to do. So much work.
On September 14, 2015 at 5:51 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time, scientists observed gravitation waves, for the first time. That clever sumbitch Einstein predicted this 100 years ago. What a beast. What does this mean? Well, billions of things. But allow the gnarbot writers and editors of the New York Times to summarize those billions HERE.
In the spirit of this discovery, I have composed a little love diddy. As with all of my diddys and doodles and dum dums, this is a chunk of my heart flesh, for you. For all you sumbitches out there with the fire and burn and wow wow wooooo.
GRAVITY SAYS TO TIME
Gravity rolls over and says to Time, "One day they'll detect my waves. By truly listening, they will finally find me. Since they figured out how to build that silly little laser interferometer gravitational-wave observatory, it's only a matter of You till they find out. I feel like this is all she wrote." Gravity can't sleep. Gravity has been up since God Knows When.
Time rolls her nebulas, gets up with a soft stretch, shifts to the edge of their galactic superstructure and says, "Listen, baby, it's been a century since Einstein called you out. We knew when that crazy asshole first put it together that we'd eventually be seeing something like this. Yes, a century is fast, but you gotta hand it to em.' They are persistent little shits. But, baby, I don't really have Me for this. And you haven't even had your coffee. I gotta run. Alpha Centauri's latest report says that they may have stumbled upon actual, usable data for utilizing wormholes. He was a little freaked out. By the way, are you going to call him today?"
Gravity slumps and every reader, for 1.5 seconds, becomes 6.2 - 7.4 milligrams heavier. "I left him a message last night. He'll be fine. I've already initiated software updates for the Zone of Avoidance. What if they think less of me after this? Already you are clearly their favorite and I just enforce the rules."
Time checks her hair one more time, throws on her best slacks. Before regrettable thoughts of her dislike of dressing up for work fill her head, she offers, "Honey. You're their rock. Their home. Of course they will be a little bit dismissive at times. We all too often tend to treat our family members carelessly. It's comfortable. Easy. But hey, you're not the one they constantly call an illusion, right? Have you seen my box of Human Dreams Dreampt In The Last 5 Seconds Before Waking Up To Pee?"
"I put it by the front black hole for you. And your lunch." Gravity thinks about making a joke about feeling heavy, but can't bring himself to do it. "Damn it. I was slightly surprised when they confirmed ultraviolet and infrared light. After that, microwaves and radio waves, well I pretty much expected that. But now this? Sure, their tiny little L-shaped antennae, with its two and a half mile long arms, it's not much. It's cute, but sort of pathetic, really. What happens when they finally sort out that LISA Pathfinder project? Laser measurements in space? Where the Me of Earth and Sun cancel out? Do they have any clue what they could be doing there?"
From the front hallway, while taking a moment to admire her latest series of supernova on the wall, Time says, "Of course they don't honey, like always. But at least they are trying, right? Ummmm, babe, where is the box? How close did you leave it to the front black hole?"
"Oh. Shit."
"Honeeeey we TALKED about this!" The acute reader, one observant in hard mechanical time, should take note here of all clocks jumping ahead 16 seconds and, for a second or two, having time be more like a crocodile about to begin its death spin rather than an illusion.
"Well I thought you would get there with plenty of You to spare, I didn't think it would be an issue. Sorry sweety. I'll go load up another box after my workout."
Time takes a deep breath, remembers their children, remembers the singular moment 13.7 billion years ago when Gravity took a knee in front of her and said, "let's do something stupid you idiot."
Time walks slowly back to the bedroom, letting her feet follow each other, letting Light Years play with her shoelaces along the way, letting him find his purr for the morning, letting everything be in anything but a rush. She slows the earth turning, quiets the tide, suspends the plane's takeoff. She puts the mo in slo-mo and takes it down one more gear. Even Nothing can't move, his mouth finally shut for a moment.
"Darling?" she peaks around the corner of their bedroom black hole.
Gravity is at the window. The light of all the multiverse’s upon him. As a tear runs down his cheek a crack in the glass follows, its desire to be pulled insurmountable and pure and old.
"I just don't want them to get hurt," he says. "I can't believe how beautiful they are."
"I know my sweet, I know," says Time as she walks close to him. She feels his power and his opposing weakness and like always, it carries her along, it is the hard surface upon which she may run and remain endless. "They will be ok. I promise. I see it. They will be better than ok. We must be thankful for their curiosity."
"Yah," says Gravity as he begins to pull himself together. "They sure do wonder a lot." And with this the Sunda Megathrust fault line shivers as if its mother was stroking its ear.
"Tell you what," says Time. "How about I call in and have someone cover me today? I'm sure Space can handle it. I saved his ass during the Photon Epoch."
"Awww honey, that would be wonderful! We can get the kids up and have a proper breakfast."
"Shit, we're outta eggs. Since I'm dressed already, I'll run and grab some. Tell them I'll be right back." Time walks toward the front black hole but then remembers something, swirls around, says to Gravity, "oh and honey, just in case I get hit by a clever, dynamic programming algorithm, tell Love I'm more me when I'm with her, tell Kindness he has some kisses coming and whisper softly to Gratitude that she still needs to tell me her story about dolphins."
"Dolphins and mice babe," says Gravity. "She says they're the smartest of all down there. My waves are probably old news to them." Gravity smiles for the first time today and correspondingly the Bavarian Alps rise two centimeters.
PS: I want to sincerely thank you people for reading things I write. Big shouts (good ones) to those who subscribed to this. What an honor I have, to write to you. Thank you thank you thank you.