2,500,000 Solar Masses of Fate
Hello plebeian masses! Now, I know the weather’s great, summer’s here, and all you want to do is go and get pissed up in a park on off-license liquor. Or maybe I do. Anyway, before I head out to lasciviously ogle the kempt, tanned nudists on Hampstead Heath, I’d like to teach you a thing or two about astrophysics.
Boring? Fuck you!
Now look here – let’s talk a little about black holes. No, I’m not talking about racist pornography, I’m talking about theoretical space phenomena which have a mass which might approximate 2.5 million times that of our sun. Okay. So you’re a dozy fucker and a magnitude of “2.5 million solar masses” might just seem fairly big to you. Well, let me tell you, it’s bigger than you think.
Take the Earth. It weighs fucking 6,600,000,000,000,000,000,000 tonnes! Although most of this is now accounted for by Lawrence Fishburne, 6.6 thousand billion billion tonnes is very fucking heavy. Then, the sun weighs 330,000 times that. That’s one solar mass. And Christ, even though my ex once claimed she did, in fact, weigh one solar mass after consuming every chocolate in the house, a single solar mass is a huge amount.
So these black holes, weighing 2.5 million of these motherfuckers, are pretty big right? Nope. They’re actually so heavy that their own gravity collapses them in on themselves until they’re a tiny dot. That’s called a singularity. Something smaller than even your cock, and it weighs more than the entire TNT equivalent that the US will have dropped on folks by the time they realise they’re wankers.
Thus, the black hole singularity is more dense than Jade Goody on ketamine, and exerts a gravity which sucks with more potency than Heather Brooke of IDeepThroat.com. In fact, it even sucks light into it. And this is why it’s called a black hole.
There is a spherical perimeter around a black hole called the Event Horizon, which is the distance furthest from the singularity at which light cannot escape. Once you enter that event horizon, a number of fucked up things happen, even if you were wearing a nice space suit.
First you’d notice yourself being torn apart. The amount of gravity is so immense that your feet would feel it an order of magnitude more than your head, with the result that your feet would fall faster than your head, and when that sort of shit’s going down something’s got to give. Your waist, as it happens. That doesn’t matter because at the acceleration you’re going at, you’d probably hit the singularity before you died anyway. So your disembodied head might look around and wish that you’d packed some sort of rocket pack to help you escape. Not a chance, unfortunately, because once you’re past the horizon then nothing can escape. The singularity becomes a part of your future.
So why am I babbling on about all this? Well, it all ties in with my ideas on fate. Do we have control over fate, or do we not? Do we decide who we fall in love with, or does it happen at first sight / by chance, accident / when the planets are aligned?
I think fate is like floating through a field of black holes. The black holes are the people you fall in love with. Sometimes you can see them coming, because you’ll see their event horizon ominously blotting out the bright stars behind them. Or perhaps you’ll feel the gradual pull as you get close. Or perhaps you just won’t see it before it’s too late. They are hard to spot, after all.
But you can control fate at this point, to some extent at least. Go this way, that way, avoid one, head for another – whatever you like.
But once you’re inside a horizon, its singularity is in your future. There is no device in the universe which can set you free. If you’re lucky, you’ll love it all the way down, though you’re torn apart, exposed, fucked and helpless to prevent yourself moving in any direction but in. And once you arrive – at the singularity, her soul – let’s hope she notices you there. Or else your broken body will feel quite alone.
You’ll have no control over that fate.
[ PS – This post was invoked by something I read by ButterflyUK. A lot of my posts are based on hers these days, and this might be seen as favouritism - well, it's not. It's just that the rest of you churn out utter drivel that makes me want to tear out my eyeballs and chew on their optic nerves. And I hate ButterflyUK, anyway. I hate her most of all. So spin on it, you foetid motherfuckers. ]
Boring? Fuck you!
Now look here – let’s talk a little about black holes. No, I’m not talking about racist pornography, I’m talking about theoretical space phenomena which have a mass which might approximate 2.5 million times that of our sun. Okay. So you’re a dozy fucker and a magnitude of “2.5 million solar masses” might just seem fairly big to you. Well, let me tell you, it’s bigger than you think.
Take the Earth. It weighs fucking 6,600,000,000,000,000,000,000 tonnes! Although most of this is now accounted for by Lawrence Fishburne, 6.6 thousand billion billion tonnes is very fucking heavy. Then, the sun weighs 330,000 times that. That’s one solar mass. And Christ, even though my ex once claimed she did, in fact, weigh one solar mass after consuming every chocolate in the house, a single solar mass is a huge amount.
So these black holes, weighing 2.5 million of these motherfuckers, are pretty big right? Nope. They’re actually so heavy that their own gravity collapses them in on themselves until they’re a tiny dot. That’s called a singularity. Something smaller than even your cock, and it weighs more than the entire TNT equivalent that the US will have dropped on folks by the time they realise they’re wankers.
Thus, the black hole singularity is more dense than Jade Goody on ketamine, and exerts a gravity which sucks with more potency than Heather Brooke of IDeepThroat.com. In fact, it even sucks light into it. And this is why it’s called a black hole.
There is a spherical perimeter around a black hole called the Event Horizon, which is the distance furthest from the singularity at which light cannot escape. Once you enter that event horizon, a number of fucked up things happen, even if you were wearing a nice space suit.
First you’d notice yourself being torn apart. The amount of gravity is so immense that your feet would feel it an order of magnitude more than your head, with the result that your feet would fall faster than your head, and when that sort of shit’s going down something’s got to give. Your waist, as it happens. That doesn’t matter because at the acceleration you’re going at, you’d probably hit the singularity before you died anyway. So your disembodied head might look around and wish that you’d packed some sort of rocket pack to help you escape. Not a chance, unfortunately, because once you’re past the horizon then nothing can escape. The singularity becomes a part of your future.
So why am I babbling on about all this? Well, it all ties in with my ideas on fate. Do we have control over fate, or do we not? Do we decide who we fall in love with, or does it happen at first sight / by chance, accident / when the planets are aligned?
I think fate is like floating through a field of black holes. The black holes are the people you fall in love with. Sometimes you can see them coming, because you’ll see their event horizon ominously blotting out the bright stars behind them. Or perhaps you’ll feel the gradual pull as you get close. Or perhaps you just won’t see it before it’s too late. They are hard to spot, after all.
But you can control fate at this point, to some extent at least. Go this way, that way, avoid one, head for another – whatever you like.
But once you’re inside a horizon, its singularity is in your future. There is no device in the universe which can set you free. If you’re lucky, you’ll love it all the way down, though you’re torn apart, exposed, fucked and helpless to prevent yourself moving in any direction but in. And once you arrive – at the singularity, her soul – let’s hope she notices you there. Or else your broken body will feel quite alone.
You’ll have no control over that fate.
[ PS – This post was invoked by something I read by ButterflyUK. A lot of my posts are based on hers these days, and this might be seen as favouritism - well, it's not. It's just that the rest of you churn out utter drivel that makes me want to tear out my eyeballs and chew on their optic nerves. And I hate ButterflyUK, anyway. I hate her most of all. So spin on it, you foetid motherfuckers. ]
Another hilarious post that almost made me choke on my breakfast.
I think you'll have no problem avoiding these black holes, JiB. Your lame chat-up schemes and the fact that you spend most of your free time either wanking in your room or mentally masturbating with LIAC posts should preclude an encounter with an event horizon of any kind.
Excellent! Oh, wait...
Editing the PS, JiB? Chicken...
LOL. Nooooo, I was just fixing it :-)
LOL. Yeah, sure. ;o)
Ah, requited hatred... Mmm...
"Extremely dense black hole found in Duch's head"
Ummmm, I know I keep repeating myself everywhere today, but...I hate men.
Thanks.
That post was classic.
Excellent, a misandrist. Nemesis to my misogyny. Let battle commence...
(and thanks)
I know enough Chinese to read that first 2 character in that japanese comment. They mean 'of no or none substance', it would be nice if anyone knew enough jap to actually translate the freakin comment.
She could be talking about JiB's black holes, or just talking about JiB in general.
Hmm. Speculations.
Great post btw, it's nice to see some freakin' quality posts in the LIAC Black Hole after all this while.
Apparently we're attracted to our partner's immune systems.
Probably true, too. I know I wank over white blood cells.
Elessar: If you click the link it looks like they're talking about mountain bikes. I guess I'd call it spam. Thanks, though, I thought the place needed brightening up a bit.
Eriu: People are way more attracted to nice tits.
Ah, what great detective-like powers you have JIB. The better to screw would-be stalkers with, I'm sure.
Yeah! Boobies for sure! Woot!
zzzzz, a black hole being like a relationship is just shit. If a girl turns out to be a cunt I will escape back past her event horizon faster than you can say 'repressed minger'
your humour is also shit, please no more cringe worthy analogies.
May I suggest trying the work of Byron Katie to release some of your cuntness. I'm serious and I do wish you all the best.
Of course, when you say relationship you mean some rancid skank you hooked up with while you were pissed. When I say relationship I mean falling in love with someone. We're making different points here; you're spectacularly missing mine and thus trying to advise me on how to make it is making you shitheel of the week.
Oh and why not slice out your funny-bones and work them slowly up your arse? I'm serious and wish you all the best with it. Cheers!
this is my point, any man worth his salt needs to be in a relationship for a long time and a few feet from your metaphorical singularity before he falls in love(you see how little sense it makes), unlike sad wallowing souls whose only passion besides looking for love is slagging it off. This is maybe why men run a fucking mile after 2 weeks of your 3 page poems and shit illustrations, jus' guessin. Leaving you once again in your favourite state, singlelarity (wow, funnier than you in a single scrutinised sentence, you amusing twat)
all the best Juliet.
www.thework.com
I can only imagine that you took my advice because what you wrote made about as much sense as someone trying to type with several splinters of bone wedged wrongwards up his sphincter.
1. I spit on all forms of poetry. Show me a 3-page poem I wrote and I'll show you a delusion.
2. My favourite state is in no way "singlearity", and even if it was that does not excuse the epically shit pun you made.
3. I'm a bloke you fucking oaf.
4. I have never drawn anything, ever, except perhaps the metaphorical blood of clueless, nameless imbeciles on the internet. Where are these illustrations you're gibbering on about?
The entirety of both your comments contain absolutely the same amount of sense as everything Pee Wee Herman ever said or did, which is nil.
reading through your posts it seems you really dont have a clue, to be of assistance (which means Im helping you fucktard, so stop being so touchy), get a purpose! try and discover a talent (good fucking luck) blogging you're emoness you fairy does not count btw and stop giving your power away to women, hmm too late I guess.
I'm glad men like you exist however, we all need humourless fuckwits with repressed feelings and insecurites so the better man (ie most men in your case) can capitalise.
By the way, little rule of psychology you wont understand, perception is usually projection, which basically equates to you being possibly the worlds biggest cunt.
Thanks for the laugh MATE, I will be sharing this blog with people who also need to feel better about themselves, certainly works for me.
Again, good luck
I mean it more than ever now.
1/10
I think I came at least six times during the jist of that little cat fight.
Good work gentlemen.
yeah more entertaining than the blog I thought, even if Juliet did take a bit of a pounding.
Although Mr misanthropic masochist tiny plums fairy, or cunt for short, probably enjoyed it.
I think I'll leave him alone now, hey now I'm starting to sound like his ex girlfriends.
Both of em.
You'd be lucky.