When observed, quantum waves collapse
and become the particles that make up reality. By being observed,
things become real. The answer to the question - 'if a tree falls in
a forest and no one is there to hear it does it make a sound?' - is
'nope'. For something to exist,
another existing thing has to know it exists. To exist you have to be observed. 'Esse
est percipi.' Bishop Berkeley said it, the Australian
Aborigines always knew it, and now the rest of us are beginning to
understand it. I think it's all got something to do with this: (ψ =
Σanψn).
OK, you got that? I've made it real
simple for you because you're real simple. You understand? Good. Even
if you don't understand, don't worry because I probably have it
wrong anyway. If you do understand then don't worry if I have it
wrong because either way you're none the wiser so it doesn't really
matter.
Anyway, this brings me to Alan. Alan
was born to a reclusive single mother in a remote barren quarry where
the two lived out their whole lives. Alan's mother survived by
trekking daily to the nearest Lidl, which was ages away, and coming
back with food and supplies for herself and her son. Don't bother
asking why she chose to live like that because no one knows the
answer, just like no one knows the answer to why you choose to live
the way you do. You don't even know the answer to that one yourself.
So, Alan's mother never told anyone she
had a son and she was the only thing that knew he existed. That was
fine but one day she died leaving Alan with nothing remotely sentient
to vouch for his presence in reality. The fact that he could observe
himself wasn't enough to help him and he gradually faded away. His
eyes faded away first so he didn't even get to see his hands and
limbs and torso vanish. The last thing to go was his mouth. It issued
a scream, a horrifying shriek of sheer fear, that no one and no thing
ever heard because, in a way, it never happened.
You might consider it sad about Alan
but don't. From what I hear from those who never knew he existed, he
was a bit of a dick. I can't say the same for my Uncle Stan though.
He was quite a nice fella but very boring. He'd just sit in the
corner mumbling about some boring topic like rhubarb distribution in
late nineteenth century Prussia or what he had for breakfast that
morning and how long it took him to make it. Stan was so boring
everyone stopped listening to him and gradually forgot he was there,
including his wife and parents and even his kids. Stan faded away as
if he never existed, just like Alan. No one was the wiser and no one
shed a tear as he mumbled his disbelief and slowly faded from
existence, just like a radio station vanishes as you turn the dial.
One second the DJ is talking inane shite about this and that and the
next second the fucker is gone as if he was never there at all.
The same will eventually happen to the
rest of us. We live a while and then die but continue to exist as
memories but then, over generations, we are forgotten and, over billions of years, any
evidence left of us erodes and crumbles to less than atoms and then
these less than atoms cease to be when the Universe finally pops out
of existence. It'll be as if none of us were ever here because there
won't even be a 'here'. Are you horrified? Do you feel like screaming
as Alan did? I don't. I actually find the thought comforting.
Especially when I consider the fool I made
of myself in front of everyone when I got drunk the other night. The thought of those events being utterly erased from existence suits me fine.
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