Saturday, November 04, 2006
quantum jackets
I realized today that my outerwear is not continuous- it is in fact packets of quantum outerwear. My fleece, which is good to about o Celsius can only be replaced by my fall leather coat good to about -5. The next jump is my winter coat which is too warm at -10. I seem to be living at a scale of the universe which approximates the Plank Outerwear Length. At this scale I can experience the discomfort that exists between my discrete jacket packets- or shells. In addition, the uncertainty principle does not interfere with my observations. Except when its about -7 in which case the uncertainty principle seems to vex all experimental decisions. While many theorize that at very high jacket energies, strings will be shown to hold the jackets together, but in my privileged scale, I can confirm that there are no strings but rather an elastisized waistband. At lower jacket energies, these are replaced by buttons. Early experiments have shown that at a distance, the force holding the buttons together is in fact, very weak. As the sidewalks become more icy, hopes are high that the many collision experiments will solve several mysteries.
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5 comments:
I've given up entirely trying to force the jacket universe into the quantum comfort paradigm. For me there is only the fundamental duality of all jacket things - frostbitten or not frostbitten.
As usual, Mr. Daviditron, your instincts for seeing the quantum code through humour and illusory superficiality leaves me very impressed.
Magnificent metaphors mirror Matrix manifestations making mirth, mixing minds, moulding matter. Magnificent!
But tell me, good Sir, when you are warm and remove a jacket, do you radiate light?
"Remember, remember, the 5th of November
The Gunpowder Treason and plot;
I know of no reason why Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot."
And furthermore, for all you ignorant and illiterate Canadians in vacuum-land (present company unreservedly excepted), “Vivre Robert Catesby. Vivre Robert Catesby Libre”
Also, "Damn the King. The soldiers are all slaves".
Cheers and Good Mental Health
Living as I do in the Western sector of Canada, Guy Fawkes day celebrations are about as sparse as Stephen Harper's beard. Newfoundland, Canada's foster child of confederation, celebrates with the vigor comensurate with its culture.
I can also confirm speculation regarding the release of energy when removing a jacket. While the high energy particles are emitted at a wavelength beyond the visible range, sensitive detectors reveal the emission of button-up-shirtinos.
Guy Fawkes celebrations are rather scarce here in Italy as well so I contented myself with another view of "V is for Vendetta" and rewinding and memorizing V's alliterative introduction.
The only thing burned were a few plugs of tobacco with a toast of expensive Cognac to dear Guy and Robert as an accelerant to fan the flames of introspective anarchy.
Of course you knew that Guy and Robert's fiery trail also led to Shakespeare and that he wrote McBeth to appease pro-monarchical interests.
Ever wonder what would happen if Edward Blake had received explosives training? I do, constantly.
And apologies for monopolizing your comments section these last few days. But understand that I am apologizing only out of a sense of politeness and that this apology is in no way sincere. If you find this annoying and ungrateful, so much the better.
Damn the King. The soldiers are all slaves.
Cheers and Good Mental Health
PS: Tell your friend Rainswept that I have been gravely insulted and that I expect nothing less than pistols at dawn in satisfaction.
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