SCIENCE FRICTION

Voices echo in my head without precedent, without antecedent, residual background radiation left over from the Big Bang, thoughts and ideas bouncing like ping pong balls in a mind too full for thinking, a brain too drunk for drinking. Quit re-normalizing equations. Maybe mass IS infinite at the speed of light. Meaningless infinities my ass; maybe more physicists should get more metafizzical. I’m pregnant with ideas, ready to give birth. Those who can’t create, consult; those who can’t shine, reflect. Radio waves are the enemy, jamming somebody else’s thoughts into my brain. TV will live your life for you if you let it. Now Internet wants to do the same or worse, creating a life of its own within the limits of conspiracy. Still I persevere. Prepare for the best; avoid the worst. Fear of success is the greatest handicap of the sensitive male. How do you score points when your best offense is a good defense? Beyond the call of the sexual wild, the call to merge with the void, beyond the sleepy call of nature two or three times a day depending on circumstances, my world is finally at peace with itself.

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