Marina Cortês
Ticks of time: on Cosmology, Everest, and Ballet
Ticks of time: on Cosmology, Everest, and Ballet
We wrote this letter on October 9th, 24 hours after the Nobel Prize of physics was awarded to work in computer science. It has been rather difficult news for physicists to joke about, but here it is finally. Our confession in full!
Quick! They are onto us, we have been exposed!
Breaking news: theoretical physicists confess at long last to be guilty as charged of their long-held deceit.
We have had a good run, deceiving the unsuspecting physics acolytes, and apostles alike, that there is no such thing as computer science at the very inception of reality.
Oh, how we have laughed and jeered while trying to keep a straight face, professing the Standard Model of Particle Physics, the Lambda Cold Dark Matter Universe and many, many other lies that we regret. That glorious time has now come to an end. Those quick-witted members of the Stockholm Nobel Committee have exposed us. Therefore, the purpose of this letter is as follows:
We come to you today in shame, humiliation, and repentance, while being aware that there is no forgiveness for our mortal sins. To begin with, we have deleted the eighth mortal sin from the primordial scriptures of civilisation!!!
A long time ago that sin read “Though shalt not engage in theoretical physics!!!” Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it did read thus. We can right this one wrong already, and re-instate the truth of the eighth aforementioned primordial sin.
Moving on, we are nothing but guilty as duly charged by Stockholm. Knowing that we cannot repent such insurmountable tales of lies, we can at best tell the story of how our lie began.
In the beginning there was a Big Bang and the Universe started. 13.8 Gyrs later a shameful breed of liars and tellers of untruths were born: Cosmologists!! The first thing we did was to peer onto the baby Universe. We squinted really hard and saw the primordial light denoting that the Universe had indeed begun. BUT… One of us was faster and peered quicker onto the newborn cosmos. The rest of us were still making our way to the baby Universe. When this first scout returned they hushed us:
“Cosmologists, huddle up! I have seen something in reality that needs to forevermore be hidden safely away from humanity. We alone must bury this secret so deep that not even those astute Stockholm personae shall find it. There exists, I tell you, in the first instants of the Universe, a large, massive, humungous .dat data file!!!
This file says that, in the great reckoning of the Year of our Lord 2024, the computer scientists shall come and they shall take over the Universe. The files testifies how computer scientists, and they alone, have made up the very elementary particles, which I utter these very words to you with. We must keep this secret. They wish to rob us of our authority on the innocent communities of our planet. Let us make a pact right here, and forevermore, that we will never ever, ever utter a single word on how there is a huge .dat file computing reality as we speak.
We will keep this secret so that we remain in our power over the masses. We shall sign this pact with Galactic synchrotron emission, B-modes, and primordial non-gaussianity. Bring thy possessions to the table, and let us sign all together… As a wave packet of a non-commutative algebra.”
So read our sins, whose deceit and lies we must now face. We bring before you our repentance and ask for thy forgiveness.
In the future should anyone have a question pertaining to the nature of reality, the structure of space-time, and existence itself, kindly make way to the offices the laureates who unmasked our conspiracy. We have now freed them from decades of oppression. Those laureates are the true whistleblowers of our time. They are finally free to speak their truth. If anyone asks after us, we are serving our sentence at the beach. There, at least, we can no longer be held responsible for the breakdown of reality.
PS – We shall be holding an auction of PhD diplomas in theoretical physics this evening. We are laying down our degrees at the asking price of three margaritas and a grilled mackerel. (Not grilled is also OK).
