Winston
April 27th, 2012, 10:04 PM
Crunch
I had so much left I wanted to do. Things I needed to do. Time just ran out. Or,
to be more precise, time will end in a few hours. For all of us.
With scant time remaining, I have no logical reason for writing this. While time
is very short, human choice and free-will are in abundant supply. I choose to write.
Others have chosen to riot, pray, or curl up in a fetal ball. I may choose one of those
options later, "time permitting". Except for the rioting. That’s not my bag.
Actually, people are behaving remarkably well, all things considered. Oh sure,
there was a run on grocery stores, and a few overturned and burned cars. I know that I
don’t want to depart on an empty stomach. And while burning a car sounds like fun, I
feel that putting my thoughts down is more appropriate at this time.
I took the kids out to play ball at the park this afternoon. We all found out about
time ending a few weeks ago. I had been meaning to get in one last game before… it all
was over. I’m glad we had the chance to play. We had to chase off some punks lighting
off fireworks, then it was "Play Ball!". There was just the four of us at first, then another
family saw us, and asked if they could join. They had this adorable four year old girl. I
lobbed pitches at her about twenty times before she made contact. We all jumped and
cheered. She got a home-run! Well, I’m sure my son was just a bit slow throwing the
ball in.
Afterward, we all hugged. A few tears were shed, but the smiles were more
prevalent.
My kids had asked a few questions about "it all ending". Mostly along the lines
of "Will it hurt?" and "What will it be like?" Of course, no one knows. No human has
ever seen the Universe fly apart at the seams. We all may know what it’s like in a few
hours. The irony being, there will be no one left to compare notes with. Anyway, I told
them it will be painless, like going to sleep. I do believe that. I think most of us do.
When the stars first started to disappear last month, there was a general panic.
Human hubris dictated that, for a few days, there was a world-wide dialog on what we
should do. It was realized that the first stars we saw fade out were in-fact galaxies,
billions of light years away. Space is rather big, so there was a moment of relief. Then,
they noticed two things: The rate of galactic fade was increasing, and the pattern was
radiating toward us.
Using the most accurate instruments available, the best minds measured, and
tested, and crunched the numbers. Of course, those distant galaxies didn’t just
disappear. There’s that whole matter / energy conservation rule. No, it turned out that,
somehow, things were just falling apart. We couldn’t see those galaxies because they
were no longer emitting light. As best as they could tell, gravity, electromagnetism, and
the strong and weak nuclear forces just all stopped working. Kaput. Done. All the way
down to the Quarks, Leptons and Gauge Bosons. They all came unglued. Even the
Gluons. Sorry, bad physics joke. It’s all rather Strange. I’d better stop, I’m not being
very Charming. Oooh, I’m at the Top of my pun game. Nevermind, you’re not Down
with that.
Anyway… The weeks following mirrored the typical "stages of loss" model.
There was a lot of bargaining, anger, denial. I’d say that most of us seven billion here are
now in the acceptance stage in the final hours. More and more nearby galaxies are
winking out, now at an accelerated rate. It’s projected that, when this wave hits the
Milky Way, it will take less than five minutes for the stars in the outer spiral arm to go
before it hits us.
What will it be like, having every atom fly apart at infinite speed? The ironic
thing I think of is the thought that some alien culture, like ours, is nearby and going
through the same motions. They too are unable to change the inevitable. Perhaps, at
some point, our atoms will meet theirs. Of course, it will soon be zero degrees Kelvin, so
our conversation will be rather static and chilly. Sorry, another bad physics joke.
The Moon last night was so beautiful. With so many less stars to compete with, it
was spectacular. My wife and I walked for an hour or so, holding hands. Normally,
we’d talk about the kids, finances or some other pressing issue. We just walked. Every
detail was so vivid. I had never really noticed the flecks of blue in her eyes before. The
reddish tinge in her auburn hair. The impossible way she can exhale deeper than she
inhales. It’s sad that it took the end of the world to truly open my eyes.
I’m not upset that I don’t have more time. There’s no bitterness, angst or anger.
There is a longing. No one wants it to end. Yet, we all realize that it will. Very soon
now.
Well, I suppose that’s it. At least now, I think I know why I took the time to write
this. Physicists are split on weather the Universe will just keep coming apart, or perhaps
at some point it will start collapsing inward. "The Big Crunch" they call it. None of us
will know for sure, but I’d like to think that we all come back together. Everything. That
first tooth I lost, the first girl I kissed, my old ’72 Mustang. I can live without the ever
seeing the K Car again, but I digress. Maybe we all come together at some infinitesimal
point of mass and energy. And, since nothing is never truly lost in the Universe, my
thoughts will be there as well.
Scientists think there may be some unending cycle of expansion and contraction.
In an infinite Universe, I may have already done this. Many, many times before. Who
am I to mess with tradition?
Well, first, I’m making a ham on rye with extra mustard and pickle. I’m eating on
the back deck while bathing in that marvelous moon glow. Next, I’m tucking the kids in
one last time, making sure I whisper "I Love You" in each small, tender ear. Finally, I’m
laying down in bed, next to the love of my life. I’ll lie still, grasping her small, soft hand,
and fall asleep listening to the rhythm of her breathing.
Well, I’d better brush my teeth first. She doesn’t like the smell of mustard.
Until next time…
I had so much left I wanted to do. Things I needed to do. Time just ran out. Or,
to be more precise, time will end in a few hours. For all of us.
With scant time remaining, I have no logical reason for writing this. While time
is very short, human choice and free-will are in abundant supply. I choose to write.
Others have chosen to riot, pray, or curl up in a fetal ball. I may choose one of those
options later, "time permitting". Except for the rioting. That’s not my bag.
Actually, people are behaving remarkably well, all things considered. Oh sure,
there was a run on grocery stores, and a few overturned and burned cars. I know that I
don’t want to depart on an empty stomach. And while burning a car sounds like fun, I
feel that putting my thoughts down is more appropriate at this time.
I took the kids out to play ball at the park this afternoon. We all found out about
time ending a few weeks ago. I had been meaning to get in one last game before… it all
was over. I’m glad we had the chance to play. We had to chase off some punks lighting
off fireworks, then it was "Play Ball!". There was just the four of us at first, then another
family saw us, and asked if they could join. They had this adorable four year old girl. I
lobbed pitches at her about twenty times before she made contact. We all jumped and
cheered. She got a home-run! Well, I’m sure my son was just a bit slow throwing the
ball in.
Afterward, we all hugged. A few tears were shed, but the smiles were more
prevalent.
My kids had asked a few questions about "it all ending". Mostly along the lines
of "Will it hurt?" and "What will it be like?" Of course, no one knows. No human has
ever seen the Universe fly apart at the seams. We all may know what it’s like in a few
hours. The irony being, there will be no one left to compare notes with. Anyway, I told
them it will be painless, like going to sleep. I do believe that. I think most of us do.
When the stars first started to disappear last month, there was a general panic.
Human hubris dictated that, for a few days, there was a world-wide dialog on what we
should do. It was realized that the first stars we saw fade out were in-fact galaxies,
billions of light years away. Space is rather big, so there was a moment of relief. Then,
they noticed two things: The rate of galactic fade was increasing, and the pattern was
radiating toward us.
Using the most accurate instruments available, the best minds measured, and
tested, and crunched the numbers. Of course, those distant galaxies didn’t just
disappear. There’s that whole matter / energy conservation rule. No, it turned out that,
somehow, things were just falling apart. We couldn’t see those galaxies because they
were no longer emitting light. As best as they could tell, gravity, electromagnetism, and
the strong and weak nuclear forces just all stopped working. Kaput. Done. All the way
down to the Quarks, Leptons and Gauge Bosons. They all came unglued. Even the
Gluons. Sorry, bad physics joke. It’s all rather Strange. I’d better stop, I’m not being
very Charming. Oooh, I’m at the Top of my pun game. Nevermind, you’re not Down
with that.
Anyway… The weeks following mirrored the typical "stages of loss" model.
There was a lot of bargaining, anger, denial. I’d say that most of us seven billion here are
now in the acceptance stage in the final hours. More and more nearby galaxies are
winking out, now at an accelerated rate. It’s projected that, when this wave hits the
Milky Way, it will take less than five minutes for the stars in the outer spiral arm to go
before it hits us.
What will it be like, having every atom fly apart at infinite speed? The ironic
thing I think of is the thought that some alien culture, like ours, is nearby and going
through the same motions. They too are unable to change the inevitable. Perhaps, at
some point, our atoms will meet theirs. Of course, it will soon be zero degrees Kelvin, so
our conversation will be rather static and chilly. Sorry, another bad physics joke.
The Moon last night was so beautiful. With so many less stars to compete with, it
was spectacular. My wife and I walked for an hour or so, holding hands. Normally,
we’d talk about the kids, finances or some other pressing issue. We just walked. Every
detail was so vivid. I had never really noticed the flecks of blue in her eyes before. The
reddish tinge in her auburn hair. The impossible way she can exhale deeper than she
inhales. It’s sad that it took the end of the world to truly open my eyes.
I’m not upset that I don’t have more time. There’s no bitterness, angst or anger.
There is a longing. No one wants it to end. Yet, we all realize that it will. Very soon
now.
Well, I suppose that’s it. At least now, I think I know why I took the time to write
this. Physicists are split on weather the Universe will just keep coming apart, or perhaps
at some point it will start collapsing inward. "The Big Crunch" they call it. None of us
will know for sure, but I’d like to think that we all come back together. Everything. That
first tooth I lost, the first girl I kissed, my old ’72 Mustang. I can live without the ever
seeing the K Car again, but I digress. Maybe we all come together at some infinitesimal
point of mass and energy. And, since nothing is never truly lost in the Universe, my
thoughts will be there as well.
Scientists think there may be some unending cycle of expansion and contraction.
In an infinite Universe, I may have already done this. Many, many times before. Who
am I to mess with tradition?
Well, first, I’m making a ham on rye with extra mustard and pickle. I’m eating on
the back deck while bathing in that marvelous moon glow. Next, I’m tucking the kids in
one last time, making sure I whisper "I Love You" in each small, tender ear. Finally, I’m
laying down in bed, next to the love of my life. I’ll lie still, grasping her small, soft hand,
and fall asleep listening to the rhythm of her breathing.
Well, I’d better brush my teeth first. She doesn’t like the smell of mustard.
Until next time…