Often as I leave ‘Costas Kebab Emporium’ in
Tipton High Street,
on a Friday night, I’m berated by late night revellers about the deep
imponderable and ineffable mysteries of the cosmos. Usually I mumble
incoherently about a dark, indifferent and insentient universe before falling
face down in the gutter besmirched with mild, but tangy, chilli sauce. Therefore,
suitably inspired and fortified by an abiding curiosity tinged with cosmic awe
and 8 pints of Bank’s bitter, I am about to embark on Flaxen Saxon’s Cosmology
Dear Flaxen Saxon, Why is it that we are able to fly men to the moon and send deep space probes to the outer reaches of the Solar System but I have to wait 75 minutes for the number 127 bus to Dudley Zoo? Furthermore, at every other stop, the Ukrainian bus driver is upbraided by little old Polish ladies about the cost of the fare. Bewailing the fact that the fare used to be only 3 Kopeks and the wheat hereabouts used to grow 6 foot tall, until the Germans came……
Dear Mrs Gorlinski-Mugumbo, If we are to learn anything from Einstein’s theory of special relativity it is that the speed of light is a constant, irrespective of our relative motion or position. However, as predicted by Einstein’s famous theorem, mass and time dilation increase as we approach this speed. Therefore, to reduce your wait, at the bus stop, you are advised to travel at least 90% of the speed of light. However, you need to be aware that your mass will also increase by times 2.3; you fat arsed cow. Also, due to concomitant time compression, and new government regulations with regard to the state pension, you will have to wait another 150 years before you can retire, unless of course you are Romanian.
For Reference: 1 Kopeck is equivalent to 5 billion Rhodesian dollars.
Dear Flaxen Saxon, Is it true that the Crab Nebula is the remnant of a supernova observed in 1054AD, without the aid of a telescope, in the constellation of Taurus?
Dear Mrs Itchytwat, I had crabs in my black hole’s event horizon once- itches like fuck, doesn’t it? Try one part paraffin, one part DDT.
Dear Flaxen Saxon, How come every time I fart a big pink bubble extrudes from my arse. It reminds me of the expansion of the early universe following the ‘big bang’ some 14 billion years ago. The brown swirly bits on the outside of the bubble are reminiscent of the nascent galaxies which formed within the first few billion years of the universe’s origin. I wonder whether the universe could have been similarly born of a black, although slightly puckered, hole. How can I return to those halcyon days when all I had to worry about, when I farted, was the faint possibility of a little residual moistness?
Dear Mr Tightsphincter, Stop swallowing your bubble gum.
Dear Flaxen Saxon, Do we live in an infinite universe or a universe subscribed by limits? If the universe is finite what is its geometry, what are Quasars and finally what do astronauts call haemorrhoids in space?
Dear Mr Nogirlfriend, To answer your questions in sequential order: I don’t know; I don’t know; I don’t know; Quasars are a tasty wheaty snack which we can all enjoy and lastly, arseteroids.
Flaxen Saxon leaves the last word, at least with regard to the universe, to the late, great, Douglas Adams.
‘There is a theory which states that if ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. There is another theory which states that this has already happened’.