Science: most of the time it’s telling you how cute the thing threatening to eat the galaxy is, how it could travel through time if it could just discover the thing that would be able to travel through time, or telling our penises things they already get. But now, science has decided it’s its job to tell us when Jesus ate dinner.
I didn’t realize there was a controversy over when the last supper happened. But then, I know that there are entire message boards devoted to Star Trek ship registry databases and the in service lifespan of an Excelsior class starship. Some people take their favorite fiction genres very seriously. I just assumed that Easter fell on a Sunday, because we all had the day off and would have plenty of time to find any eggs that the kids didn’t discover so that the yard wouldn’t start smelling like a semi-pro fart competition by Wednesday afternoon. But naturally, as with just about anything pertaining to this two thousand year old Tolkien novel, even Jesus’ last sit down nosh is surrounded in controversy. And I’m not talking about the Da Vinci kind, this one doesn’t center around the painting (the original which, if I understand correctly, was painted on the back of the Declaration of Independence) but about, brace yourself, contradictions in the bible itself! I know!
So Paul, George and Ringo apparently said in their respective chapters that the meal took place during Passover, while Davey Jones said it was before. And since it’s so damned important to know exactly when Jesus had his last bagel and lox, some damned Professor at Cambridge decided to figure it out with damned science. He will of course be damned as a heretic only to be forgiven a few centuries from now, because that’s how the church rolls.
I think the least important detail of the entire story of the Last Supper, is PROBABLY the day on which it took place. But apparently this contradiction of when they tucked into a nice brisket makes it hard to take the Gospels as… gospel. But in a book full of giants, talking snakes, eight hundred year old men and a guy on horseback, flying down from the sky wearing a stack of crowns, I think I can let a simple confusion on exactly what day Matt last passed the basket of knish to JC, go.
I, personally, wish Easter wasn’t a holiday. Not because I hate brightly colored egg searches or hollow garden critter shaped chocolate flavored treats. I wish Easter wasn’t a holiday, so that I could see the kind of insanity that would ensue if someone proposed to make it a national holiday, today. It would be magnificent! Imagine, in this day and age, trying to get a nationally observed holiday celebrating the execution of a major religious figure from a big book of Godly sword and sorcery. I guess it would be a lot like trying to get anything NOT Jesus related to be observed by anyone. Remember when Muslims wanted to build a place of worship on the same hemisphere as “Ground Zero”? Imagine them trying to get a dirty A-rab holiday recognized in God’s America!
Oh, how I wish I could see something like that. The parade of stupidity that would certainly bring out. The disputes and arguments, all of which would directly contradict which ever arguer’s book almost entirely. The world is so horrible, so many people are idiots enough on their own, why do we feel the need to spark up a holy book club bitch fit just to come up with some other reason to be dicks? But as much as Team Jesus whines and cries about people calling Christmas vacation “Winter Break” or Easter egg rolls “Spring Oblong Circle Tumbles”, imagine if anyone would dare to tell them that they couldn’t have a new holiday celebrating the ass kicking of a lifetime that their son of God took, as Mel Gibson so lovingly chronicled on film.
And you know, on a mostly unrelated note, it seems odd how much Mel hates the Jews when he made so much money with his movie about the most famous one… Oh well. Where was I? Oh right, Jesus got the shit kicked out of him… You know, for me…
Have a pastel egg. It’s what Jesus would have eaten.
I’m a scientist. And you know what? So are you.
You see, the heavy lifting of being a scientist isn’t in proving something as fact, most science isn’t fact. Or in discovering something new, you know how hard that shit is? Most of the stuff around you’s probably been discovered by somebody already. No, what apparently makes a scientist scientisty, is the ability to come up with things that could never exist, using elements that they have not yet discovered, to say how neat it would be if everything they were making up could actually happen. SCIENCE!
Last week, scientists working on the Large Hadron Collider (not to be confused with all of those other Hadron Colliders out there, being worked on by what those of us in the scientific community like to call “fucking retards”), apparently bored with smashing sub atomic particles together in an attempt to tear the very fabric of reality apart (in theory) got to thinking. In sciencing, you get a lot of time to think. Mostly because the majority of the time you spend doing science is just in proving the stupid ass thing you thought of last time was stupid and pointless. Science is failure, subsidized.
So the people trying to make black holes in Switzerland theorized that they could potentially use the Hadron Collider to send a particle, a Higgs singlet, back in time. It is believed that the Higgs singlet may have the ability to “jump” out of our mundane, limited, four dimensional existence and into a “hidden” dimension that some advanced physics models believes to “exist” and that by traveling through this “hidden” “dimension” they could then “jump” back into our own at a point “forward” or “backward” in what we “perceive” as “time”. ” ”
Isn’t that fantasmical? Isn’t that astoundishing? Isn’t that completely made up and entirely dependent upon a particle that doesn’t even exist? Yes… SCIENCE!
There is no Higgs boson, and as such, no Higgs singlet. Discovering this Higgs boson was apparently one of the main reasons they built the Hadron Collider in the first place. So scientaints are already moving on to the next cool thing that they’ll be able to do with the thing that their big crazy machine was built to discover before their big crazy machine has even discovered it. Which basically equates to me saying that I am going to use all of those ghost vaginas that my ghost vagina factory discovers to travel to the year eight billion where the ghost vagina will probably be the most valuable commodity in all of what’s left of Earth III, the planet of the cyber undead… as soon as my ghost vagina factory discovers that ghost vaginas do in fact exist like I’ve been saying all along.
“Our theory is a long shot, but it doesn’t violate any laws of physics…” one of the scientinals said, which I suppose is technically true. Making up things that don’t exist to fit into a theory that depends entirely on something that doesn’t exist does not violate any laws of physics that I know of. It does however violate most known laws of logic and sense.
“One of the attractive things about this approach to time travel is that it avoids all the big paradoxes,” he continued, oblivious to the fact that he was still talking about his Star Trek fan fiction to people that weren’t inside his head. “Because time travel is limited to these special particles, it is not possible for a man to travel back in time and murder one of his parents before he himself is born, for example. However, if scientists could control the production of Higgs singlets, they might be able to send messages to the past or future.”
Of course this narrow minded fool never takes into account the very real (hypothetical) possibility that one of these particles, driven mad by its travel across very real (entirely made up) extradimensional planes could then arrive at its past destination, its important future missive long forgotten in that blink of an eye that seemed like seven eternities, and replaced instead by a single command, “Murder Lance Armstrong”. Impossible? Nothing is impossible with the power of imagination, and untethered insanity!
Unfortunately, the one miniscule sticking point that the entire plan hangs up on is that they haven’t yet discovered the thing that they think they might possibly be able to send back in time. A minor thing I know. But these brave men and other men are not deterred by the fact that their big metal circle has yet to discover even one tiny time travel capable ghost vagina. I’m sure, in fact, that they believe because they haven’t found it yet, that means beyond a doubt that it exists. That’s how these people think.
I myself am currently hard at work on a paper that suggests that a pride of miniature dinosaurs made of velcro, spinning at the center of the universe since before time had a name, are the entire reason that the AFL succeeded where the USFL failed, despite the USFL not having debuted until thirteen years after the AFL/NFL merger. You see, my theory, which I will heretofore refer to simply as “Fact Prime”, is that the USFL’s failure reverberated back through time, bouncing off of the soft side of the galactic center Stegasaurus’ back plates and into the head of New York Jets Quarterback and pantyhose model Joe Willie Namath, thus propelling his football club to victories in Super Bowls III, IV and VII. Pieces of this errant history were later corrected by Terry Bradshaw and his Time Stealers. Terry and trusted lieutenants Bo Jackson, Richard Dent and Ray Nitschke restored as much of the original balance of the timeline as they could before Chrono Emperor John Elway could detect their meddlings…
And until someone can prove that all of that DIDN’T happen exactly as I have described, I am right.
We are all going to be murdered by a giant green blob, the size of our entire galaxy, THAT SHITS STARS!
Why am I the only one screaming!?
So what if it’s 650 million light years away? How do you know that some living space cloud, the size of what we can’t even begin to imagine with our tiny little ape brains and who’s waste product is a giant ball of nuclear fission doesn’t have some way of traversing that distance in a week and a half? You don’t know! How do you know!? YOU DON’T KNOW!
Okay, alright, let me start over…
There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t worry about something in space killing us without even noticing it. You really have no idea how tiny and fragile and defenseless we are. We’re only all still alive because some wandering brown dwarf hasn’t tumbled by, ripping our entire atmosphere off and going on about it’s merry way without batting a stupid, dwarven little eye… Yet. So when I hear about us actually discovering something so mind rapingly insane just trudging through the universe, I have two reactions. One; sweet tangy Christ, that thing wants to murder me, and two; if we’ve actually managed to discover this thing, what other nightmares are out there waiting for me that I haven’t even imagined to be frightened of yet?
This humongous sun crapper was first discovered by a dutch elementary school teacher thumbing through NASA’s packed away photo albums in 2007. NASA has a program called the Galaxy Zoo Project where they apparently take old shoe boxes full of dusty snap shots of the fucking unknown wonders of deep space, that they just hand out to anyone and say, “Hey, could you rifle through these eight by ten color glossies of infinity and see if there’s anything out there in the great vastyness of all of creation, billions of years of existence spanning farther than we’ve ever made words to describe that might want to obliterate everything we’ve ever known through power unimaginable? Thanks, you’re a Reuben. We’ll just be over here testing how hilarious it is when cats try to pee in zero gravity.”
A giant green blob in space is exactly the kind of thing that Star Trek has been trying to prepare us for all these years, and now, when we finally find it, it’s treated like we didn’t just discover our own tombstones floating in the sky.
I realize budgets are tight, but I think there should be more than just a volunteer brigade of wooden shoe wearing elementary school teachers in charge of making sure we know about the scariest shit imaginable floating around in the void. We have a giant telescope in the sky, taking pictures of everything, shouldn’t there be someone who’s job it is to look at those pictures, you know, when our other chocolate chomping experts are busy grading spelling tests?
After NASA released this new photo, the teacher that first discovered it said it looked like a dancing frog in the sky because it’s green, and she could even see what passes for arms and eyes. Fantastic. And while NASA and Dutch teacher NASA giggled and toasted over a shoe full of cocoa, my brain couldn’t stop shitting itself, like a giant inter-stellar gas frog the size of a galaxy shits stars.
So it’s pretty clear that I’m the only one taking this appropriately seriously, and that this dirty little ball of idiots is doomed, which means that I’m going to have to build my own escape craft in a futile attempt to escape a universe that wants nothing more than to murder me dead. And between all of the screaming and crying, when exactly am I going to find the time?