There are more potential connections between the neurons in the brain than atoms in the universe.
You know what makes me happy? Binary systems. I think we could all do with two suns dancing around each other instead of just the one trying to pull all the planets to her while they reject her with equal urgency and gravitational force. I think I’m lonely. Why did i make it a 'her?'That’s what I was thinking about today in Astronomy, and well, we didn’t cover that in the class yet, it just jumped into my head then scurried down the hall before I had the presence of mind to yell at it for interrupting my learning.
Not that I care, it’s been two weeks and I’ve successfully kept myself from learning a single thing about anything ever, times infinity. Things were looking up, but 10 minutes into my first semester of 2005, a bomb was dropped: “Pluto’s only satellite is named Charon.” Now the normal Gen-Ed-starved undergrad would allow this comment made in passing to…well pass: not me. So the god Pluto gets screwed by a twist of fate into ruling the Underworld alone, depressed, and lonely. This is, of course, until, he kidnaps Proserpine and lives somewhat happily in hell. Then the whole Greco-Roman thing collapses, and Pluto is reborn in 1933ish as a cold distant lonely planet with only 1 moon 2/3 its size. Is he doomed to be alone and bored all the time? His brothers are the two biggest planets in the Solar System with million of orbiting bodies while he is left frozen and bored because Charon won’t do anything for less than two gold coins. I wrote an email to NASA, I’ll post the response, if I get one, here. Sorry for that.
From there on out I was far too angry to listen to this man and his slander. We learned about systems of measurement, planets, stars, etc. However, when I checked my notes after the class I was greeted with a treatise on why I disagree with Astronomy. My notes are written in concentric circles which started because Prof Pfeiffer said something to the effect of “we cannot conceive of something as large as the cosmos, mathematics is the language in which we can perceive the universe” or some jazz. I, of course, disagree wholeheartedly with mathematics because in 10th grade we had to do square roots and I got an impossible answer. The square root of a negative number is an ‘imaginary number’ which can’t be real and should negate all of mathematics. Also, what the hell is Pi? I don’t think he’ll ever understand the heavens if he’s going to view them within the leaky umbrella of math. I came, ultimately, to the conclusion, that Prof. Pfeiffer does not believe in God. Unfortunately, this information won’t help me on a test, nor is it of any value to myself or anyone else. My week has been like that. I wish I weren’t such a useless Astronomer.
In other, less science heavy news, my Grandmother called and told me to “give my love to your mother and father.” I figured my parents had enough love to go around so I gave it to my dog instead who is starting to limp in her old age. After much petting and ball-play, we were both pleased with my misappropriation of grandma’s love.
Bad entry. I haven’t been able to write anything since school started, not even in this dumb thing. Inside of three sentences everything I write flat-lines, the wells have run dry. I’m too depressed to recount gossip. Be nice to me Journal friends.
Not that I care, it’s been two weeks and I’ve successfully kept myself from learning a single thing about anything ever, times infinity. Things were looking up, but 10 minutes into my first semester of 2005, a bomb was dropped: “Pluto’s only satellite is named Charon.” Now the normal Gen-Ed-starved undergrad would allow this comment made in passing to…well pass: not me. So the god Pluto gets screwed by a twist of fate into ruling the Underworld alone, depressed, and lonely. This is, of course, until, he kidnaps Proserpine and lives somewhat happily in hell. Then the whole Greco-Roman thing collapses, and Pluto is reborn in 1933ish as a cold distant lonely planet with only 1 moon 2/3 its size. Is he doomed to be alone and bored all the time? His brothers are the two biggest planets in the Solar System with million of orbiting bodies while he is left frozen and bored because Charon won’t do anything for less than two gold coins. I wrote an email to NASA, I’ll post the response, if I get one, here. Sorry for that.
From there on out I was far too angry to listen to this man and his slander. We learned about systems of measurement, planets, stars, etc. However, when I checked my notes after the class I was greeted with a treatise on why I disagree with Astronomy. My notes are written in concentric circles which started because Prof Pfeiffer said something to the effect of “we cannot conceive of something as large as the cosmos, mathematics is the language in which we can perceive the universe” or some jazz. I, of course, disagree wholeheartedly with mathematics because in 10th grade we had to do square roots and I got an impossible answer. The square root of a negative number is an ‘imaginary number’ which can’t be real and should negate all of mathematics. Also, what the hell is Pi? I don’t think he’ll ever understand the heavens if he’s going to view them within the leaky umbrella of math. I came, ultimately, to the conclusion, that Prof. Pfeiffer does not believe in God. Unfortunately, this information won’t help me on a test, nor is it of any value to myself or anyone else. My week has been like that. I wish I weren’t such a useless Astronomer.
In other, less science heavy news, my Grandmother called and told me to “give my love to your mother and father.” I figured my parents had enough love to go around so I gave it to my dog instead who is starting to limp in her old age. After much petting and ball-play, we were both pleased with my misappropriation of grandma’s love.
Bad entry. I haven’t been able to write anything since school started, not even in this dumb thing. Inside of three sentences everything I write flat-lines, the wells have run dry. I’m too depressed to recount gossip. Be nice to me Journal friends.