was that all part of the divine plan? How about when the Cathedral of Notre Dame burned to the ground... Should we praise the Lord for that fire? The Heaven's Gate UFO Suicide Cult?, Waco Texas? Is God Totally Fake?
.jpg "I found God on FarmVille")
Where was God when crazy people with guns are shooting children at schools? Again and again and again... Where was God during the Camp Mystic Flood when those little girls drowned? It happened in the Texas Hill Country and all they needed was a SIGN and they could have walked up the Hill! To Safety... Was God in Venezuela during the earthquake? I've been in an earthquake and I did pray that God would stop it... In my case it did end... But not Venezuela...
Where was God when the atomic bomb was blowing up Hiroshima and Nagasaki? Chernobyl? F*ck You Shima? How about the million people that died from covid-19 in the USA??? I guess their prayers were not answered... Or maybe the answer was "NO! You Gonna Die, Mo Fo!"
and then on Faceborg a guy said:
Pilliard Dickle
Thoughts had at 3AM:
Maybe I brought all this on myself. With negative thinking. Maybe I summoned the universe I have stepped into.
Now this is not to say I caused the predicament we’re in, I’m just saying of the endless permutations of the universe that exist simultaneously, maybe I chose to step into the one I feared the most. And here we are.
A few Plank units to the left lies a universe just like this one except people are having fun—laughing and dancing in the street and eating corn on the cob corn. (Only they eat it vertically instead of horizontally, as Father Guido Sarducci once said on SNL.) But no, I had to step through Door Number Hell.
Or wait. This is not Door Number Hell. I mean, what do I have to complain about, really? All I need do is glance at the guy across the street, or the woman next door—people with problems that make mine look like a mere bag 'o shells—and that little voice in the back of my head kicks in and says, in the voice of Don Rickles: "STFU!"
But having said that, yeah, things are pretty messed up.
Isaac Asimov talks about the paradox where you go back in time and shoot your father before you were born, so you could never have existed in the first place to shoot him. With all due respect, Mr. Asimov (from whom I once received a post card, typed in his typewriter!) (sorry, I can’t mention Isaac Asimov without throwing that tidbit it), current theories of time —some from a physicist named (I kid you not) Craig Callender, as well as stuff I wrote in a now-yellowed notebook back in the day (yes, “back in the day” is code for, you know)...
Jesus in a rowboat, that sentence was way too convoluted. Lemme take another shot at it:
With all due respect, Mr. Asimov, current theories of time render that paradox moot. They still don’t know what time is—heck, thanks to the James Webb telescope and the Cern collider and all that, they don’t know what anything is anymore, they only know that they were wrong about pretty much everything. Including that Big Bang hooey (which I never bought). But they do know this: time is not one linear line, any more than space is Newton’s concept of an ether.
Infinite possible futures lie before us at every now. We choose our path. Please allow me to demonstrate. Do this: Shift the position you are sitting in. (I’m going to assume you’re sitting.) Go ahead, just shift a bit, into a slightly different position. It might do you good anyway, you might have been sitting way too long.
OK, did you shift? Not yet? Well…shift. Move a leg or something. I can’t go on with this experiment until you shift positions. Have you shifted yet?
Just shift, dammit!
OK, the universe that you now inhabit is infinitesimally different than the one you would be occupying if you had remained in your prior position. And both those universes coexist.
Now I didn’t get this out of some underground comic or via some psyliciobin-induced epiphany. Well, I did, but it’s also what cutting edge quantum physics is currently theorizing.
Want to try something really freaky? Hold your hand up, spread your fingers and reach slightly forward, as if touching a mirror. Leave it there a moment. OK now stand up. (But wait, if you choose not to stand up, don’t take you’re hand down, just sit there and leave it up.) OK, now turn facing where you were just sitting and put your hand, from the other direction, right where your hand just was. You are now touching the hand of the you who chose not to stand, the you who is sitting, holding her or his hand up. Fingertips to fingertips. And if you chose not to stand but are still sitting and holding your hand up, you are touching the hand of the you who did stand up. Both those yous are right there, they actually exist. in fact, if you lean in a bit more and put your face where your face just was before you stood up, y’all can almost kiss.
So what about that universe I almost stepped into but didn’t—that universe where people are laughing, and dancing in the street, and eating corn on the cob? Well, that universe is almost as close. I can smell it. I can hear the people laughing. But no, I stepped into this thing. I guess we all did.
In my next installment, I’ll talk about my plan to use the concepts of co-existing universes to win the lottery
and then another post...
Every single thing he has touched—every cacamamie plan he has launched, every ill-thought-out scheme that has gurgled up from what’s left of his mind—has been a disaster. All this regime has done, time and again, is shoot themselves in the foot. So this scheme to usurp the midterms—maybe it'll backfire as well. Maybe, in the end, what will come along to save us will not be the Epstein files, or waving placards, or blacking out Facebook for a day (yeah, that one really brought 'em to their knees), or Jesus, or 3IATLAS, or singing Kumbaya, but rather, like everything else [...drumroll...] their own bumbling ineptitude.
Yeah, I've given up on 3I/ATLAS or Jesus, I'm banking everything on that he is one colossal f**k-up. And I'd say that's a fairly safe bet.
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