cosmology, religion, humor
The Passion of the Quantum Singularity
Warning: Screed follows
All praise is due unto the Grand Unified Theory and the intolerant hairless apes that hath spawned it.
It’s a shame that a bunch of white wing (deliberate Freudian slip) Christians don’t want an Islamic community center in an old Burlington Coat Factory in Manhattan, even though by protesting against one, they contradict the very freedoms they hold dear. I guess they don’t realize what an ugly and irrational force hate can be.
At the same time, I can’ t help but think I’m sick of people arguing about who has the better version of the invisible-
Seriously, unemployment is high, we are still involved in one and a half wars, and the earth appears to officially be broken. My cable news has been invaded by the Wholly Irrelevant.
Besides, believing in an omniscient being that obsesses over this tiny rock, which amounts to the western Oklahoma of the universe, seems silly when the size of it can be measured and it’s age calculated, and it’s very very big, thirteen billion light years wide. Hubris.
Solution: I’ve been watching space shows on the Science Channel, and the History Channel, when it’s not playing shows about the DaVinci Code. Some of this space stuff is so hard to fathom, it might as well be a religion.
Because I am sick and tired of religion and the animosity it creates, I propose . . . a new religion for all of humanity based on what I have learned watching basic cable.
My glorious new religion shall be called “Big Bangism,” and it’s adherents, Big Bangers, after the widely accepted theory that the universe sprang into existence from a tiny point in the black void of nothingness--or something like that; I can’t remember; I wasn’t really paying attention. Don’t drag me down with your damn details. The devil is in those. This is faith, dammit.
To keep things interesting, humans can argue about the exact title of the new religion. Half of the people can refer to this exciting new cosmology as “Giant Explosionism,” though Giant Explosioners are generally smelly heathen with no class. But I appreciate their right to worship as they please. It’s not me who will have to answer to the Supermassive Black Hole when it engulfs us all in it’s glorious and all powerful event horizon. Amen.
That’s the beauty part of watching these shows: half of the episodes focus on space objects that may one day destroy us all, so the apocalyptic angle is covered. In addition to rogue black holes, there are gamma ray bursts from the poles of stars going supernova, giant rocks, and, I suppose, malevolent species of aliens.
Come, brothers and sisters. Abandon your old-fangled ways and embrace some new-fangled ones. It’s really hard to understand, but that’s the beauty of religion: Why have understanding when you can have faith. I am reminded of a time when I was mocking a piece of duct tape purported to show an image of Jesus. I was told, with disdain for my obvious lack of it, “It’s faith, John.” This particular image of Jesus, by the way, is available if you’re interested, on Ebay. May he who hath the highest bid emerge triumphant. Praise the Black Hole and pass the Strong Electromagnetism. Amen.