nisaba
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Oh, we've already looked at this one. <Shuffle> <cut>
Ah, the Tower. A huge edifice goes screaming through space at a Red Dwarfian angle. Its windows are lit up not with office lights, but with the yellow of superheated metal, implying that contrary to the impression of deep space I have, the Tower must be hurtling through some form of atmosphere to generate those temperatures. It is starting to crack, like the superstructure of a stressed aeroplane (Yes, I have an accent). The whole tower is wreathed in crackling electricity. Close to us, at the base of the card, shock-waves look like gigantic thumb-prints. At the top of the tower or the nose-cone of the ship, a blue-white sonic boom seems to be happening.
Is the Tower immense, or tiny? If it is tiny, it could be an open-ended string, tensioned beyond belief, vibrating at incredible energies. Bubbling away at the realm of the super-small, below anything Planck imagined, is quantum foam: the constant fizz of things or non-things in a state of flux and change, of popping into and out of existence, of changing from blue whales falling through space into small bowls of petunias that sigh "not again". A string smaller than a quark may believe in its own resilience and strength, to find itself snapping like the Tower, or melting into its own energy, or welding onto another string and becoming indivisible. Everything that string believes in, could end or be recreated at any moment in the subatomic turmoil that is quantum foam.
Oh, we've already looked at this one. <Shuffle> <cut>
Ah, the Tower. A huge edifice goes screaming through space at a Red Dwarfian angle. Its windows are lit up not with office lights, but with the yellow of superheated metal, implying that contrary to the impression of deep space I have, the Tower must be hurtling through some form of atmosphere to generate those temperatures. It is starting to crack, like the superstructure of a stressed aeroplane (Yes, I have an accent). The whole tower is wreathed in crackling electricity. Close to us, at the base of the card, shock-waves look like gigantic thumb-prints. At the top of the tower or the nose-cone of the ship, a blue-white sonic boom seems to be happening.
Is the Tower immense, or tiny? If it is tiny, it could be an open-ended string, tensioned beyond belief, vibrating at incredible energies. Bubbling away at the realm of the super-small, below anything Planck imagined, is quantum foam: the constant fizz of things or non-things in a state of flux and change, of popping into and out of existence, of changing from blue whales falling through space into small bowls of petunias that sigh "not again". A string smaller than a quark may believe in its own resilience and strength, to find itself snapping like the Tower, or melting into its own energy, or welding onto another string and becoming indivisible. Everything that string believes in, could end or be recreated at any moment in the subatomic turmoil that is quantum foam.