Buckminster & Amber - Bucks Talks About Nothing

Exploring the Feline Brain.

I’ve looked at Amber’s blog, her Swedish art thing, and it’s nice if you’re into paintings and such. I much prefer TV, watching the colors move . . . And yes. I understand what’s going on. I just don’t care. There’s nothing I could possibly relate to. The servants tried to trick me by installing an aquarium screensaver last week. I gave it a couple half-hearted swipes, and they thought it was a big deal. So what? (I’m going to tell you about, ‘so what,’ some day. But that’s another story.) Where was I?

            Oh yes, talking about nothing. I am going to tell you everything you need to know about nothing. I will describe nothing. I will illuminate nothing, and when you have finished reading this monolog, I promise, you will understand nothing.

             It seems like understanding nothing it should be easy, but it’s not. It’s far easier to understand something. Something happens every day. Nothing hardly ever happens, and is much more difficult to talk about. Most of us believe in something, and why not? The worst that can happen is nothing . . . fade to black. But black is something in the eye of the beholder, and it has a name. Nothing is nameless. I sometimes wonder if nothing is possible.

            Great minds with large budgets are searching for nothing with cyclotrons. They zoom particles around at near the speed of light, in temperatures hotter that the sun, slamming them into one another. A cosmic train wreck . . . particles splattered everywhere, smaller and smaller. Photons are like whales in the sea of sub atomic particles. There are quarks (six kinds of these), and Bosons, Leptons, just to name a few. It seems there’s always something left.

            Scientists predict that they will find nothing sometime in the next ten years. They want evidence taken from the moment before creation . . . to discover the primal building block that existed a split second after the big bang; the mother of all things, including time itself. Before this moment there was nothing. Where did nothing go? Is it still there?  After trillions of years?

            Nothing is beyond my kat-like comprehension, but I think about it all the time. You humans think I’m doing nothing, but I’m always doing something. Naps are something. Nothing seems almost impossible to do, but I am working on it.

                I hope I have at least clarified something for you. Nothing is more difficult to understand.

P.S.  Here’s something I just Googled.