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Hollow Tree Ventures parenting humor
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Intelligent Life

I know you THINK you're sitting completely still.  In fact, if you're like me, you'd contend that you haven't moved your buns off the chair you're in right now for anything other than getting another Reese's cup for the last several hours.  But the truth is, we're all moving at an incredible rate of speed, despite the fact that this movement is translated into exactly zero calories burned (unfair).  This is because the universe itself  is moving, and we (get ready to have a Science Moment) are in  the universe - luckily we're smashed onto the surface of our planet by gravity, because we're zipping through the vacuum of space at an alarming 74.2 kilometers/second/megaparsec.


For those of you who aren't physics professors, or who aren't familiar with kilometers ("What's up with that whole metric system thingamajiggy, anyway?"), I can tell you in layman's terms that this means the universe is expanding at roughly the same speed as Donald Trump's ego, which is pretty dang fast.  And since it's stretching and twisting and expanding like a box full of Slinkys that got dumped down the stairs (beautiful metaphor, I know) and is full of various gasses (also like Donald Trump), it gives NASA lots of gorgeous photo ops.


The other day Gerry and I were looking at some of these pictures, and I mentioned something about a discovery some Science Guys made a while back about a section of the universe that tastes like raspberries.  As you can imagine, Gerry looked at me like I had three heads and one of them was on backwards.

Unfortunately, I tend to only remember about 20% of anything I learn, which means I recall the gist of a story but absolutely no details to back it up.  What I wanted to do was make up a bunch of stuff on the spot so I'd sound like I knew what I was talking about, like, "Well, in June of 1998 Sir Issac Nerdfellow of the Norwegian Outer Space Institute discovered a sector of the universe known as the Raspberry District, which tastes precisely like fruit-topped waffles with whipped cream due to the fact that it contains a chemical called IHOP Breakfast 182."  Gerry, however, would never fall for that.

"Why don't you blog about it," he taunted.  And so I am.

In fact, in 2009 astrobiologists (yes, that's a real profession) went poking around in a cloud of dust called Sagittarius B2 in the center of the Milky Way (Hey, I know a guy who lives there!) and found that it contains ethyl formate, which is the chemical responsible for giving raspberries their flavor.  As a bonus, it also smells like rum!  However, when I looked the story up again, I read that the cloud also contains propyl cyanide, which is responsible primarily for killing stuff.  Hmmm.


I started getting more and more alarmed, as I considered the possibility that there's some swarthy cloud of dust that has infiltrated our very own galaxy, and it's currently amassing the ingredients to mix up a giant poisoned, girly, fruity rum cocktail.  At some point in the near future, this Sagittarius B2 fellow might try to sidle up next to us here on Earth and offer to "buy us a drink," at which point he'll produce a Biggie-sized sugar-rimmed glass with a huge umbrella in it, and we'll collectively bat our eyelashes and accept the drink just because it's been such a long time since any amorphous space clouds have told us we look thin.


Then what will become of us???  We're already doing a dandy job of poisoning our own environment; we can't really afford to douse ourselves with some kind of berry-flavored cyanide from outer space.  As far as I know, scientists aren't even looking into this, so if/when it happens we'll be totally unprepared.  This strikes me as terribly irresponsible.  That's why I think we should all work together and do something, like write a fake phone number on a really gigantic piece of paper.  That way, when that Sagittarius guy gets here, we'll be ready to tell him to buzz off.


I hope you enjoyed yourself while you were here - and I hope you come back! Please share inappropriate giggles with me on Pinterest, Twitter, and Facebook, or subscribe via email so you don't miss a thing - and so I don't get all lonely. I get extra-pathetic when I'm lonely.


4 comments:

  1. Don't be alarmed, but I think we are going to have to up your medication.

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  2. I don't care much for raspberry. And I'll kick any amorphous gas cloud's buns that ever offers to buy you a drink. That's the kind of thing that gets a nebula on my sh** list.

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  3. I think I've entered creepy stalker territory, but I'm on vacation without a computer and trying to entertain myself so I decided to read some of your old posts. This is absolutely hysterical! Thanks for the laugh.

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    1. Hey, happy vacation! This was written during my Totally Random and Pointless Space Information Period, which lasted exactly the length of one post. ;)

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