I was at my computer and the TV was on. I was reading articles on the Web while half-listening to news on the TV. (Why not? I have a left-brain and a right-brain and they often multi-task. My left-brain reads while my right-brain listens.) As I scanned news articles on my computer monitor, over on the TV a journalist was describing a conversation he recently had with Stephen Hawking, the British physicist and cosmologist. Hawking had stated that “they” (meaning physicists not named Stephen Hawking) might do something that would destroy the Universe. His exact phrasing, as nearly as I can recall hearing it, was something like, “blah blah blah boson particle blah blah destroy the Universe blah blah blah.”
What?! Well, I just can’t worry about that. I don’t have the time or the mental energy to worry about things that will absolutely never happen. So I resumed scanning the headlines and I saw this one:
Inside Exotic Dead Stars Are Piles Of Waffles
Unless I’ve been teleported to Bizarro World, I’m pretty sure that there are precisely zero waffles inside dead stars. There are no Belgium waffles, there are no regular waffles, nor are there pancakes, hotcakes, or flapjacks inside dead stars. The headline seemed to be one of those designed more to entice you to click it than to inform you. Should I click it? I pondered that and decided: okay, sure, I’ll bite. I began reading the article (it was about neutron stars) and right away I encountered this:
The strong nuclear force and the electrostatic force … fight over the packed protons and neutrons and drive them into strange configurations, collectively dubbed "nuclear pasta".
Nuclear pasta? Wait, I thought it was waffles. Now it’s pasta? They’re pulling a bait-and-switch here. The words “nuclear pasta” were linked to another article titled, “Does Pasta Lie At The Heart Of Pulsars?” (A pulsar is a type of neutron star.) So is it waffles or pasta? The first sentence of the second article stated,
Pulsars and other neutron stars may be composed of a 'new' form of matter which forms spaghetti-like strands and lasagna-like sheets, according to researchers based in Denmark.
Spaghetti-like? Lasagna-like? That is definitely pasta-like. How did waffles get in there?
I cruised on through the news to this headline:
10 Things You Never Thought You'd Do With A Pumpkin
Really, only ten? That’s not very imaginative. I could list hundreds of things I’ll never do with a pumpkin. Like, I’ll never watch TV on a pumpkin. I’ll never make a phone call on a pumpkin. I’ll never replace a flat tire with a pumpkin. Of course, those statements are equally valid when applied to apples, oranges, raisins, coconuts, and even Brussels sprouts. I don’t know why they chose to pick on pumpkins. Pumpkins get no respect. Look at what happens to them at Halloween.
Then the news turned grim. I read about a Georgia police chief who claimed he accidentally shot his wife. And after that, he shot her again. And again, it was an accident. He says. If he shot his wife twice, and it really was an accident both times, is this the guy you want running a police department? Should this guy even be allowed to carry a gun around other people?
Next I read about a man who had a 7-inch turn signal stalk removed from his arm. It had been in his arm for over 51 years, ever since he wrecked his T-bird in 1963, but he didn’t know it was in his arm until he set off a metal detector about 10 years ago. Only recently did he have it removed. Maybe it had begun to bother him. Or maybe he just couldn’t get through airport security. I suspect it’s a major hassle trying to explain to skeptical TSA security personnel that you have a turn signal stalk in your arm.
I can empathize: I have a sewing needle embedded in the bottom of my right foot. It’s probably been there since I was little. I never knew about it until I had my foot x-rayed after an industrial accident. (A robot fell on my foot. The robot weighed about 500 pounds.) There it was on the x-ray, clear as day; you could easily see the eye of the needle. The doctor and the x-ray technician were quite surprised, even though I’m sure they were accustomed to seeing weird stuff. But the needle wasn’t hurting me, so I decided to leave it be. Always let sleeping dogs lie – they may bite you if you wake them up.
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